Skip to main content

Full text of "The birds of California : a complete, scientific and popular account of the 580 species and subspecies of birds found in the state"

See other formats 


Axe 
Ny) ’ 
‘ Pr 


Sen 
ah 
Ned, 
“yt 


ee 


Saag OT ORT 


et i see 


ihe Birds of Gahtornia 


Cory No. // Fr _ 


Patrons’ Edition, De Luxe 


wh 


The Birds of California 


A Complete, Scientific and. 
Popular Account of the 580 Species and Subspecies of Birds 
Found in the State 


By 


William Leon Dawson 
of Santa Barbara 
Director of the International Museum of Comparative Odlogy, Author of “The Birds of Ohio’ 


and (with Mr. Bowles) of “The Birds of Washington” 


_Ulustrated by 30 Photogravures, 120 Full-page Duotone Plates and More Than 
10 Half-tone Cuts of Birds in Life, Nests; Eggs, and 
Favorite Haunts, from Photographs 
Chiefly by 
Donald R. Dickey, Wright M. Pierce, Wm. L. Finley 
and the Author 


Together with » Mountain’ oe and a Series of 
‘1 F xbout'26 life size” 
From a water-color painting by Major Allan Brooks 


Major Allan Brooks 


{ fa ss 
Format De Luxe 

Patrons’ Edition 
3 Complete in Four Volumes 
far Volume Four 

South Moulton Company 
' San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco 

3 1923 
3 Sold Only by Subscription. All Rights Reserved 
} 


The Birds of California 


A Complete, Scientific and 
Popular Account of the 580 Species and Subspecies of Birds 
Found in the State 


By 


William Leon Dawson 


of Santa Barbara 


Director of the International Museum of Comparative Odlogy, Author of “The Birds of Ohio” 
and (with Mr. Bowles) of “The Birds of Washington” 


Illustrated by 30 Photogravures, 120 Full-page Duotone Plates and More Than 
troo Half-tone Cuts of Birds in Life, Nests, Eggs, and 
Favorite Haunts, from Photographs 


Chiefly by 
Donald R. Dickey, Wright M. Pierce, Wm. L. Finley 
and the Author 


Together with 44 Drawings in the Text and a Series of 
110 Full-page Color Plates 


Chiefly by 


Major Allan Brooks 


Format De Luxe 
Patrons’ Edition 


Complete in Four Volumes 


Volume Four 


South Moulton Company 


San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco 


1923 
Sold Only by Subscription. All Rights Reserved 


TEXT, DUOTONE-PLATES AND PHOTOGRAVURES, 
BUT NOT THE COLOR-PLATES, COPYRIGHT 1923 


BY 


WILLIAM LEON Dawson 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION 


Contents of Volume IV 


Lise Orr IMS NGS IRONING. ocdounencosenuascoeoasesoacene. Se EXAIL 


DESCRIPTION OF SPECIES NOS. 308-424 


308 


309 
310 


319 
320 
321 
322 


323 


324 


Family Rallide (Continued). 


The California Black Rail, Creciscus jamaicensis coturniculus. 1549 
he oridayGallinules\Gallznulascalcataa ee eee 1554 
MhevAmenicaniCooupiulvcaamentvcanO- neers eee 1557 


Order Galliformes—Fowls. 


Family Phasianide—Pheasants. 


The Mongolian Pheasant, Phasianus torquatus.............. 1567 


Family Perdicide—Partridges, Francolins, Quails. 


RhrewMlountamiOuailswOxconiyarpicta eee 1570 
The Valley Quails, Lophoriyx califormica..................- 1575 
Dhe Desert! Ouailk Lophorincwcambeld. i fa eee 1586 


Family Tetraonide—Grouse. 


The Dusky Grouse, Dendragapus obscurus.................. 1589 
The Oregon Ruffed Grouse, Bonasa umbellus sabini.......... 1596 
The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse, Pediecetes phasianellus 
COVLIMULG MUSH ty eR ea EE Ee 1599 
The Sage-Grouse, Centrocercus urophasianus................ 1602 


Order Falconiformes—Falcons, Hawks, Eagles, Vultures. 


Family Falconide—Falcons, Merlins, Kestrels, etc. 


The Prairie Paleon, Falco mexicanus.....:.......-......... 1608 
The Peregrine Falcon, Falco peregrinus anatum............. 1622 
iihitesRiceon hawks Halcorcolumbariuss a ae oe eee 1630 
The American Kestrel, Cerchneis sparverius sparverius....... 1636 
The Audubon Caracara, Polyborus cheritway auduboni........ 1643 


Family Pandionide—Ospreys. 


The Osprey, Pandion haliaétus carolinensis................. 1644 


PAGE 
Family Milvide—Kites. 


The White-tailed Kite, Elanus axillaris majusculus.......... 1648 
Family Buteonide—Hawks, Harriers, Buzzards, Eagles, etc. 
The Marsh Hawk, Circus cyaneus hudsonius................ 1652 
The Sharp-shinned Hawk, Accipiter velox.................. 1657 
dhe Cooper Hawks, Aiccyputer cooper. 5522505555255 see ee 1663 
ine Gosvennks,) Aw aWdS. oN, c bab setscesacdosecsoaaeo- 1668 
The Harris Hawk, Parabuteo unicinctus harrisi. Dae ae eye nL Oi//2, 
The Western Red-tailed Hawk, Buteo borealis calurus. Hic ant eid. 1674 
The Red-bellied Hawk, Buteo lineatus elegans................ 1683 
The Zone-tailed Hawk, Buteo abbreviatus................... 1687 
thes Swainsom law. Bite o) SWwatnSON ccs ne ee 1689 
The American Rough-leg, Buteo lagopus sancti-johannis...... 1696 
The Ferruginous Rough-leg, Buteo ferrugineus.............. 1698 
The Golden Eagle, Aquzla chrysaétos. : pea ee ON 

The Southern Bald Eagle, Halicetus leucocephalus leuco- 
COD NGL USE Mr Cen Cae SP nh Rena ee Te eS I7I1 


Family Cathartidea—American Vultures. 


The California Condor, Gymnogyps californianus............ 1717 
The Turkey Vulture, Cathartes aura septentrionalis.......... 1736 


Order Anseres—Ducks, Geese, Swans. 


Family Anatide—Ducks, Geese, Swans. 


The American Merganser, Mergus merganser americanus..... 1743 
The Red-breasted Merganser, Mergus serrator.............. 1747 
The Hooded Merganser, Lophodytes cucullatus.............. 1749 
iihesMiallardAmasiboschas ee ta aise ere reese 1751 
Nes BEGIN ALOIS (Hees {ootsucdessvbeasoeuedsoaee 1757 
The Gadwall, Chaulelasmus streperus...................- 758 
The European Widgeon, Mareca penelope.................. 1761 
iheyBaldpate, Marecw americana pape ee 1761 
ihessuropean Neal Netttomecneccanm ers tae reer eee 1766 
The Green-winged Teal, Nettion carolinense................ 1767 
The Blue-winged Teal, Querquedula discors................. 1769 
The Cinnamon Teal, Querquedula cyanoptera cyanoptera...... 1772 
therShovellen Ss patulachypeatar ry a pee ee aes 1778 
heseintal Vatlovacuiatziizinod ena ee ce ae 1784 
Mine WooGl IDNOhs, Ale GROWS. bo coon bsouereoonsacdosopocce 1796 


390 


ithesRedheadse Wianil atanenvcanar nee ee 1800 
Mine Cammassonc<, Worle) WHPSHBCHBs cosccsccbescersocbocc 1803 
iheiGreater Scaup) Duck, Manila manila s-+....5+-5-5 05: 1807 
The Lesser Scaup Duck, Marila affinis..................... 1810 
ithesRing-neckedsDuckwViarlarcollarissene 5 ene eee 1812 
The American Golden-eye, Glaucionetta clangula americana.. 1814 
The Barrow Golden-eye, Glaucitonetta islandica.............. 1817 
The Buffle-head, Charitonetita albeola....................... 1819 
MierOldeSquawaGlanculanhyentalishamem acc ie eee 1822 
The Harlequin Duck, Histrionicus histrionicus.............. 1825 
itherkine Biden, Somaterva spectabiles: ae eee 1828 
The American Scoter, Oidemia nigra americana............. 1830 
The White-winged Scoter, Melanitta fusca dixont............ 1831 
The Surf Scoter, Melanitta perspicillata.... 5. 1835 
ihesRuddy Duck sersmatunayamatcensiss 4 see ae 1840 
The Lesser Snow Goose, Chen hyperboreus hyperboreus....... 1845 
Wing Bilis Eooss, Caan C@WACGIS =o ccccvoodaeckpoduscadnsce 1849 
Wine IROESS Sion (GOOss, (CUAD TOSS sos 500 680% bsesese0esunone 1850 
The White-fronted Geese, Anser albifrons.................. 1853 
dhe Canada Geese »Brantacanadensts. 44-5. - 34 ane eee 1858 
Wine Bem, IBOOK OAAHEOID. socsccnecececsgsonssosndoavave 1869 
ihe Himperon Goose, Phidlactecanagicdws. 4) sce 1872 
The Black-bellied Tree Duck, Dendrocygna autumnalis....... 1875 
The Fulvous Tree Duck, Dendrocygna bicolor............... 1876 
The Whistling Swan, Olor columbianus..................... 1882 
ithemirum~peter Swanky Olowibuccinatoe ee ee oe ae LloSO 


Order Herodiones—Herons, Storks, Bitterns, Ibises, etc. 


Family Ardeide—Herons, Egrets, Bitterns, Nos. 382-389. 


(ihe Creat BluesHeronsw Ardea henodvases. 5 oe ee 1888 
The American Egret, Casmerodias egretta................... 1896 
AM Srvonway leat, JAAN PONG: UPOWD. 556505000 es 50006045 IQOI 
The Louisiana Heron, Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis.......... 1906 
The Anthony Green Heron, Butorides virescens anthonyt...... 1907 
The Black-crowned Night Heron, Nycticorax nycticorax nevius 1910 
The American Bittern, Botaurus lentiginosus................ 1916 
ihe Least Bittern), Iobrychws extlas extlis. 0... 1920 


Family Ciconide—Storks, Adjutants, Wood Ibises, etc. 


The Wood Ibis, Mycterta americana.......................- 1922 


400 


PAGE 
Family [bidide—lbises, No. 391. 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis, Plegadis guarauna............ 1924 
Family Plataleide—Spoonbills, No. 392. 
siheposeate Spoon-billeAvajaajaja. eee 1932 
Order Staganopodes—Cormorants, Boobies, Pelicans, etc. 


Family Phaethontide—Tropic-birds. 


The Red-billed Tropic-bird, Phaéthon ethereus.............. 1933 
Family Anhingide—Darters, No. 394. 

ihe Water diurkey, Anhingaranhivegn ey oe eee 1935 
Family Phalacrocoracide—Shags, or Cormorants. 

The Farallon Cormorant, Phalacrocorax auritus albociliatus... 1937 

The Brandt Cormorant, Phalacrocorax penicillatus.......... 1948 

The Baird Cormorant, Phalacrocorax pelagicus resplendens.... 1956 
Family Pelicanide— Pelicans. 

The White Pelican, Pelecanus erythrorhynchos............... 1961 

The California Brown Pelican, Pelecanus occidentalis calt- 
NO PUG aoe a Mics ee ol aimee he aitin Bes biguaraiente o Wiies CARE G'S eae 1970 


Family Fregatide—Man-o’-war-birds. 


The Pacific Man-o’-war-bird, Fregata minor palmerstoni..... 1982 


Order Procellariiformes—Petrel-like Birds. 


Family Diomediid@e—Albatrosses. 


The Black-footed Albatross, Diomedea nigripes............. 1984 
The Short-tailed Albatross, Diomedea albatrus.............. 1989 
Family Procellaritide—Petrels, Shearwaters, etc. 
sbheghulimans yi ulnaresnolacvala sen san coe seis. 4 cree area eee 1992 
MhevRintadosRetrel Da pivonsca pensem ewe ere ee eee: 1995 
The Pink-footed Shearwater, Puffinus creatopus............. 1996 
The Black-vented Shearwater, Puffinus opisthomelas......... 1998 
The Dark-bodied Shearwater, Puffinus griseus.............. 2001 
The Flesh-footed Shearwater, Puffinus carnetpes............ 2005 
The Slender-billed Shearwater, Puffinus tenutrostris.......... 2006 
The New Zealand Shearwater, Puffiinus bullert.............. 2008 


411 
412 
413 
414 
415 
416 


417 
418 
419 


420 
421 
422 
423 
424 


The Black-tailed Shearwater, Priofinus cinereus............. 
The Fork-tailed Petrel, Oceanodroma furcata................ 
The Leach Petrels, Oceanodroma leucorhoa.................. 
The Coues Petrel, Oceanodroma homochroa................. 
The Black Petrel, Oceanodroma melania.................... 
sheaWailsonweetnelOccanitesyoccanicus aes 


Order Gaviae—Loons, Divers. 
Family Gaviide—Loons. 


sihexCommonweoonmGauralininierjane a eee 
sihesrachte Woon Gauavarchicapaciican 5 ae eee 
‘themved=throaredweoons Gautausicllat@ans t= 4s 4 an eee eee 


Order Podicipedes—Grebes. 
Family Podicipedide—Grebes. 


The Western Grebe, 4chmophorus occidentalis.............. 
The Holbeell Grebe, Colymbus grisegena holbelli............. 
AUlne Islosneal Cielo, COWBWOOS COWS. 6.cccdcabesssenboouds 
The American Eared Grebe, Colymbus nigricollis californicus. . 
The Pied-billed Grebe, Podilymbus podiceps................ 


XI 


neni 
ty 


List of Full-page Plates 


FACING PAGE 


Moun mAINE Outen (Colorplate) mae eee en ee Frontispiece 
CATTRORNTAY BENG Kalani (Colors plate) sae ne ee 1552 
NEST AND EGGs oF FLORIDA GALLINULE (Photogravure).......... 1556 
VArEEva@ wan (Color plate) emer ters eer ee arr ne ee 1574 
WALL, QUAIL, MoAILiss Aue INfaeie (IDG OMS). 5. 2coeos4cceesensce 1576 
UNDERETHE MCE MONG REED (DU OtOne) sein eines ers ener 1578 
N/A VALLE Owame, (DMOwOMe)s.o.4eoesvc0cbvnaoveesuecsweases 1584 
DESH Rag Owain (Colors plate) pare ser ee ea eee es es ee Ce 1586 
N/14 DESERT QUAIL IN OLD THRASHER Nest (Duotone).......... 1588 
Iasi a oun 1ROKeK< (ID INGLEOIHVS a2 wy ol ote apis aetee ols tnisiie ns te Fema oto: 1590 
Pirin InAcon (Coloeta)). ..sscedcdn we dessacGeecdsbatedact 1608 
ROMNAZORMNOCKSN(DUOCOME) ety ts cae eee neg ee er 1616 
NESTING SITE OF PRAIRIE FALCON (Photogravure)............... 1622 
NEST AND EGGs OF PEREGRINE FALCON (Duotone)............... 1628 
MPR CANSIM STRRELs (Color-plate) pearls aa ara ener 1640 
Wirt TATE DEkemmrs(Color-plate) pws ares = oe 1648 
AMERTCANG GOSHAWKe (Colorplate) naan mene ie eee ee 1668 
A\ IDBsior@® OASIS (IDUOGHOME).c.ccccevecadoveocscvdc dads coesanees 1674 
Nest oF BALD EAGLE ON SEA C.iFF (Photogravure)............. 1714 
(CA TRORINWA CONMDOIRS (IDINGHOINS)o4sacccccuscccccecousonsooceave 1724 
MATTARD SAN DEIN mAnniss (Color plate) pene ae ee re ae 1750 
PORTRAIT OF GREEN-WINGED TEAL, FEMALE (Duotone)........... 1766 
GiINNANIONSI EAT (Colorplate)paee ri ee nme eer ee 1772 
BEHUNDEDHE SCREENA(DMOtOne) bya aee ee ee ate a eee 1778 
SHOVEEEPRS Be RISING ENE VIASSENODUMOtone) amen aes ne 9 ee 1782 
Pram, IDWS (Collomples)..6 1.65 Gakbesesoavesescencsnscaes 1784 
NUAS SI ETGHMORSEIN TATE Ss (DUOtOme ier inees riya ee oe 1788 
ANG ORDERING GHi Oh SERIGSE(DMOtOne) sasnar eile ence ree 1794 
Woops DucK(Color-plate) ie. son eee ney eee eee nee 1796 
Ny MOPAMPRICAN REDHEAD (bhotostayune beeen ieee ieee 1800 
IEESSDRESCAWIP Sn CD MOLOME) tae war reine a statae coil eee ee ne Roe 1810 
ININGSNE Cke DUCK (Color plate) eer See ere ne eae 1812 
BARROWESIGOLDEN-EME.(Colorplate) een jae nage eee 1816 
BUBPEEHBDADN (Color plate) en mere m ee wieder oe 1818 
RARE OUINE DUCK (Colorplatc) meee nein ane ee 1826 
Nw IDEGES, MAE Anno JawiNce (Dmotom)...245¢06deecn0cse- 1840 
‘Theis Sipamrsie ID Wer (IDMOWONS),coscasceeseesecensoceccancadose 1844 


FACING PAGE 


rE AVE PRONRED) GEESE) (Color-plate)en- en aan ae orneee 1852 
RULVOUSMEREDEDUCKa(Color-plate) ices leis eer eee 1876 
NEST AND EGGs oF FuLvous TREE Duck (Color-plate)........... 1880 
CREATE BLUR EEROND (photogravune ane ee ee ee ee 1888 
AN DHONNES) GREENSEERON) (Color-plate)).. 9545-08 cer eee 1906 
N/o ANTHONY GREEN HERON (Duotone)....................-..- 1908 
PURINE VO IRM DUO LOME) hy fits eco w cco cee eal ere erat ee 1910 
FUUMORESOUEN(DMOtOne) Renae cs ce ie eer ie ae 1914 
VIED USA CDT OLOME) hate ey rere usec ee tee ae ee name a See ame a IQ16 
A TUT-ANKH-AMEN FRIEZE (Photogravure)..................-... 1924 
IGXCATPAISINN KONE (CID INGNAOLOXS nic Sigh was Ry Galan Pade dee clo deae pees 1926 
EF CVPITIENINEL (DUOONE) Meta mince ceee in ace ei ee ee ea 1930 
FARALLON CORMORANTS, ADULT AND YOUNG (Duotone)........... 1936 
A TREE-TOP COLONY OF FARALLON CORMORANTS (Duotone)....... 192 

AD RIOLORSHAGS INEST Ss (DUOtOMe) he eels sent awe area rete 1946 
BREASENG DHE BREEZE (DWOtOMe)y 408 catenins is een ice: 1960 
“WHERE ALPH, THE SACRED RIVER, RAN” (Photogravure)......... 1970 
IMPENDING «RAGED Va (DUOTONEe) panei ciate ce one oe area 1974 
AUG RAVE. SUB E Cia (DMOtOIE) pee eee cic oe earns ee teed years ec 1978 
APAKINGIORPN (OD WOtOMe) arene eet eee ee 1980 
BLACK-VENTED SHEARWATER (Color-plate)...............+...-5- 1998 
ISIDAIG SG IPAMRIDIO, Oy INiaeann(ID UKE OWKS) a, ..koeaneoe nee eaoes ene cuan 2014 
OunoOMIHE DEPTS (pe hotograyune) ere sein dese cyan eee 2040 
AMERICAN EARED GREBE (Color-plate).......2....2..:..-+/:.-: 2050 
N/ OU AREDIGREBE(DUOtOne) ae ciate stn ere a ae een ae ee 2054 
CONTDEMPORARYS ANCESTORSE(DUOtOME) mek vee eee eee ee 2056 


XIV 


The Birds of California 


Vol. IV 
Description of Species Nos. 308—424 


The California Black Rail 
No. 308 


California Black Rail 


A. O. U. No. 216.1. Creciscus jamaicensis coturniculus Ridgway. 


Synonyms.—Paciric Black RaIL. FARALLON RaiIL. FARALLON BLACK RAIL. 
LittLE BLaAck Ral_. 


Description.—Adult: Head, breast, and upper belly blackish slate, changing 
to purer black on sides of head and on crown; a broad patch of rich chestnut on cervix; 
remaining plumage brownish black, on belly and flanks indistinctly barred with white, 
on back and wings sharply spotted with white and faintly washed with chestnut; 
border of wing white. Bill black; feet brownish. IJmmature: Like adult, but duller; 
paler below centrally, chin and throat whitish. Length 127-152.4 (5.00-6.00); av. of 
10 Berkeley specimens (skins): length 136 (5.36); wing 65.9 (2.59); bill 14 (.55); tarsus 
21 (.827). 

Recognition Marks.—Warbler size but appearing sparrow size; an incorrigible 
skulker in marshes; slaty black plumage distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: In salt marsh, a shallow platform of broken salicornia stalks 
placed on ground and more or less concealed by overarching plants. Eggs: 4 to 8; 
elliptical ovate, white or pinkish white, finely but sparingly sprinkled and spotted with 
reddish brown (walnut-brown to mikado brown) and vinaceous gray. Av. size of 14 
specimens in the M. C. O. coll.: 24.5 x 18.5 (.965 x .73); index 75.8. Season: March 
20-April 10; one brood. 

Range of Creciscus jamaicensis—The United States and southern Ontario, 
breeding in fresh water marshes easterly and in coastal marshes westerly; winters in 
California and the Gulf States south to Jamaica and Guatemala. 

Range of C. j. coturniculus.—Pacific Coast of the United States from Puget Sound 
to Lower California. Only known breeding station salt marshes near National City, 
California. 

Distribution in California.—Probably of general occurrence both in fresh and 
salt-water marshes during migrations. Common or sporadically abundant (as re- 
vealed by high tides) in the salt marshes tributary to San Francisco Bay and in Tomales 
Bay. Casual on the Farallons (2 records). The breeding grounds tributary to San 
Diego Bay are the only ones so far exploited. 

Authorities.—Cooper (Porzana jamaicensis), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 
1868, p. 8 (Martinez and Alameda); Ridgway, Am. Nat., vol. viii., 1874, p. I11 (orig. 
desc. of Porzana jamaicensis var. coturniculus, type locality, Farallon Ids.) ; Ingersoll, 
Condor, vol. xi., 1909, p. 123, figs. (San Diego Bay; nesting habits, photos of nest and 
eggs, etc.); Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Bull. no. 128, 1914, p. 35, map (distr.); Grinnell, 
Bryant and Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, p. 304 (desc. occurrence, habits). 


ABSOLUTE size, whether of birds or bales, is a matter for mathe- 
maticians and stevedores—it is all in the day’s work; but relative size is a 
matter for poets and rhapsodists, and children withal,—a thing to fire 
the imagination and feed the fancy. Your Black Rail is as big as a Song 
Sparrow—nearly; but he comes of a race that is due to be as big as a dove 


1549 


The California Black Rail 


or a chicken, a race that has, moreover, furnished giants, such as the 
Notornis or ‘‘Moho,” of New Zealand, which has a body two feet long. 
So the sparrow-sized body of Coturniculus proclaims it a pygmy among its 
kind and arouses our interest at once. Now dye the bird the color of 
swamp muck, and set it to playing hide-and-seek in a situation where it 
has every advantage of obscurity, and you have issued an ornithological 
challenge whose piquancy is felt by every amateur and fought for by every 
professional. Although the bird is probably to be found at some season 
of the year in every considerable tidal marsh in the Pacific Coast States, 
and may occur extensively inland, every record of the occurrence of the 
California Black Rail outside of San Diego is eagerly scanned; and those 
who have even seen the bird in life are a small and select company. 

The comings and goings of a Black Rail are as obscure as those of a 
meadow mouse. One’s chances of seeing it casually are about as good as 
those of picking up a lost coin of a specified denomination. The writer, 
who has seen something of swamp life, has glimpsed only two in his ex- 
perience, one straggling across a country road at dusk, the other flushing 
sharply from his feet in the Estero at Santa Barbara—only to be lost a 
moment later, and forever, when it plumped into the salicornia a dozen 
feet away. Only in the special circumstance of high tides may one hope 
to see the bird in numbers, and these are manifestly unlawful occasions, 
like a shipwreck or a hotel fire at night. 

Coturniculus broke into print when, in 1874, Ridgway described a 
bird, a waif picked up on the Farallon Islands, as Porzana jamaicensis 
var. coturniculus Baird [MS]. From this circumstance it was long known 
as the Farallon Rail, even after mainland records began to appear. Dr. 
Brewster, of Boston, ever alert in matters of Californian ornithology, 
reviewed, in 1907,! the evidences of distribution and relationship presented 
by twenty-six skins, of which twenty-two had been collected by Mr. C. A. 
Allen at Point Reyes, October 24th to November 26th, 1897—evidently 
under the circumstances of high tide already mentioned. Mr. J. H. 
Bowles established ‘“‘farthest north,’’ November roth, 1910, by taking 
three specimens near Tacoma, Washington (unless we accept the affirm a- 
tion of Mr. J. W. Merritt, of Spokane, that he had shot the Black Rail 
near Sprague, Washington, and had seen it ‘“‘repeatedly’’ thereabouts). 
A recent report? of an injured bird picked up on the street at San Bernar- 
dino confirms our belief that the California Black Rail is at least partially 
migratory, and that its movements are not confined to the coastal marshes. 

To the odlogists of San Diego, however, belongs the chief credit 
for having brought the ways of the California Black Rail to light. 


DSI 


1 Auk, Vol. XXIV., April, 1907, pp. 205-210. 
2? Mr. Edward Wall in Condor, Vol. XXI., Nov. 1919, p. 238. 


I550 


The California Black Rail 


Mr. Frank Stephens, writing in March, 1909,! credits ‘‘alad”’ with having 
obtained a deep insight into the nesting habits of C. j. coturniculus in the 
extensive stretches of salicornia just south of San Diego. The veteran 
odlogist, A. M. Ingersoll, evidently relying in part upon the experience of 
this same “‘lad,”’ reports? the outcome of four seasons’ intensive work in 
the marshes between National City and Chula Vista. Lastly, Laurence 


Taken in San Diego Photo by L. Huey and D. R. Dickey 
PACIFIC BLACK RAIL IN CAPTIVITY 


TWO VIEWS OF THE SAME BIRD 


M. Huey, working partly with and for Mr. Donald R. Dickey, confirms 
the essential conclusions of previous workers and adds much lively infor- 
mation of his own.? 

All unite in testifying to the extreme difficulty of coming upon nests 
of the California Black Rail. Ingersoll made twenty-five special collecting 
trips to the colony to secure one bird and three sets of eggs. The nameless 
“lad” thought he was lucky if he found a nest in half-a-day’s steady search. 
Huey has spent hours and even days on the rail marshes. Nests are 
hidden in the depths of the salicornia (Salicornia ambigua, a fleshy-leaved 
plant which grows to a height of a foot or two), and the heavy foliage had 


to be searched inch by inch, either by a deft swing of the foot or else on 
1 The Condor, Vol. XI., March, 1909, pp. 47-49. 


2? The Condor, Vol. XI., July, 1909, pp. 123-127. 
3 Reported in the Condor, Vol. XVIII., March, 1916, pp. 59-62. 


T551 


The California Black Rail 


hands and knees. In this way an area never larger than a hundred acres 
was scrutinized season by season. 

The nests proper, cushions of broken bits of salicornia, are either 
placed on the ground or else on convenient shelves of matted vegetation. 
The eggs are invariably concealed from above by overarching foliage. 
Only rarely is a bird flushed under such circumstances, since she has a 
hundred chances to escape by stealth. With the slightest suspicion of 
interference, the bird deserts, and is indeed so sensitive that the mere 
passage of a stranger causes her to lose interest in her charge forthwith. 
Partially built nests and incomplete clutches, therefore, outnumber full 
sets several to one. 

No Black Rail appears to have been detected at rest upon a nest, 
and actual observation of the bird’s habits seems to be limited to those 
rare occasions, usually measured in seconds, when the bird will lift itself 
a foot or so above the salicornia, and straggle off a rod or so with dangling 


Taken in San Diego Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
NEST AND EGGS OF PACIFIC BLACK RAIL 


1552 


ae 


cs 


& 


Yas Cotlfewnta Black Rail 


Howes saw knees. In this way an area never larger than a hundred acres 
es a Stiteined season by season. 

‘TSe ests proper, cushions of broken hits of salicornia, are either 
placed oa the ground or else on convenient shelves of matted vegetation. 
The eggs are invariably concealed from abeve by overarching foliage. 
Only rarely is a bird flushed under such circumstances, since she has a 
hundred charees to esoupe by stealth, With the slightest suspicion of 
interference, (he bird deserts, and is indeed so sensitive that the mere 
passage of a stranger causes her to lose interest m her charge forthwith. 
Partially built nests and incomplete clutches, therefore, outnumber full 
sets several to one, 

No Black Rail apeears te have been detected at rest upon a nest, 
and actual observation of the tsied’s habits seems ta be liniited to ‘those 
fare occasions, usually me in secamds, when the bird walt Ott itself 
a fect iv eo alsove the salicornia, and stragwle of 3 rx? of so with dangling 


The California Black Rail 


feet. On occasions still rarer the birds have made sustained flights, as 
though to quit the locality outright; but almost as usually they have 
changed their minds midair, and come straggling back to disappear some- 
where near the home premises. 

Sad evidence the searchers have found of the heavy odds against which 
this tiny rail does seasonal battle. An ‘“‘unusually” high tide, which by 
the way usually occurs in the springtime, will sweep the colony clean, and 
leave the eggs to settle as random flotsam. As a consequence, waif eggs, 
or ‘‘floaters,’’ are a commonplace of odlogical experience. The unusually 
durable quality of these eggs has been observed, insomuch that many of 
these floating treasures are known to have been the product of the pre- 
vious season. The effect upon the unformed, or unguarded, conscience, 
of this tempting array of potential building material for “‘composite”’ sets, 
had best be left to the imagination. With definite exception of these gen- 
tlemen whose names have been cited, it is still, unfortunately, true that 
composite sets from this classical locality have been widely circulated. 

Perhaps a word of caution upon this point may not be amiss, for 
there have been unwitting offenders. The conclusions of science, any 
science, must be based upon an array of exactly known facts. The validity 
of a conclusion must depend upon the integrity of the evidence. In a 
science, such as that of comparative odlogy, where the integrity of the 
facts must depend chiefly upon human testimony, honesty is everything. 
Without it investigation is at a standstill. Science suffers and the com- 
munity is cheated of its rights. You can deceive a scientist by a false 
statement of facts, just as you can deceive the fire department as to the 
existence of a fire; but when you do, and whether you are caught at it or 
not, it is the community—your neighbors and friends—which has to foot 
the bill. Now the placing together of eggs which do not belong together, 
and calling them a “‘set,’’ may not be as harmful in its immediate effects 
as a false alarm for the fire department, but it is just as truly cheating. 
For our understanding of life processes it is just as necessary to know the 
parentage of an egg as it is in human society to know the authenticity 
of an heir presumptive. 

We have spoken of the nesting of the California Black Rail in the 
past tense and with a certain detachedness—the classical colony near 
San Diego was wiped out of existence by the flood of 1916, and no candi- 
date has yet arisen to take its place. 


N 
1 
1 
8) 


The Florida Gallinule 


No. 309 
Florida Gallinule 


A. O. U. No. 219. Gallinula galeata (Lichtenstein). 


Synonyms.—MupD-HEN (confused with the Coot). RED-BILLED MUD-HEN. 
AMERICAN GALLINULE. 

Description.—Adult: |General color blackish slate, darkening, pure black, on 
head and neck and on crissum, centrally; extensively white on middle of belly; length- 
ened flank-feathers boldly blotched with white; and lateral under tail-coverts definitely 
and showily pure white; back and wings heavily overlaid with deep olive-brown; edge 
of wing white, and bluish dusky feathers in lining of wing tipped with white. Frontal 
shield and base of bill red, the latter tipped with yellow; exposed tibia reddish, tarsus 
and toes greenish, changing to blue on the joints; irides red or reddish brown. Imma- 
ture birds are duller, especially on the bill and feet, and extensively white below, with 
frontal shield more or less undeveloped. Downy young are black, with sprinkling of 
silvery filaments on chin. Length of adult 304.8-355.6 (12.00-14.00); wing about 177.8 
(7.00) ; tail 76.2 (3.00); bill with frontal shield 44.5 (1.75); tarsus 57.2 (2.25). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; dark slaty coloration distinctive for all but 
Fulica americana, from which it is distinguished by bill extensively red and by brighter, 
purer red of frontal shield, by its somewhat smaller size, and by its more retiring habits. 

Nesting.— Nest: A well constructed basket of cattail leaves or sedges built up 
out of water or placed on broken-down rushes from one to three feet above water of 
swamp—in any case provided with runway leading down to open water. Eggs: 6 to 
10, 13 of record; ovate or elongate ovate, yellowish olive-buff, cartridge-buff, or pale 
dull pinkish clay-color, spotted or blotched rather sparingly with rich chocolate, which 
is sometimes smeared or ‘‘self-toned,’’ and occasionally with vinaceous gray under-shell 
markings. Av. size 44 x 31 (1.73 x 1.22); index 70.4. Season: May—June; one brood. 

General Range.—Warm temperate and tropical America. Breeds from central 
California, Nebraska, Minnesota, Ontario, and Vermont south through the West Indies 
and Mexico to Argentina and Chile. Winters from southern California, Georgia, and 
the Gulf Coast southward. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common summer resident in southern 
portion of State west of the desert divides and north to Santa Barbara. Found also in 
the San Joaquin-Sacramento Valleys north to Sutter County (Belding). Winters very 
sparingly, possibly throughout its breeding range. 

Authorities.—Newberry (Gallinula galeata), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 96 (San Francisco); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 33 (s. Calif.; 
nesting dates); Bangs, Proc. New Engl. Zool. Club, vol. v., 1915, p. 96 (syst.; N. Am. 
form described: Gallinula galeata cachinnans). 


IT IS a common misfortune of men to be overshadowed by the pres- 
ence of others neither more deserving nor more clever, but only a little 
more self-assertive. A similar misfortune has befallen the Florida Galli- 
nule. The accident of association, together with the still greater accident 
of similarity to the multitudinous ‘“‘Mud-hen,”’ has completely obscured 
this bird’s claim to public recognition. Even in those regions where both 


T554 


The Florida Gallinule 


are common, the lakes and marshes of southern California and the San 
Joaquin Valley, the Coots outnumber the Gallinules twenty to one. As 
a result, the really more distinguished and gallant Florida Gallinule is, 
in California at least, a tradition observed only by birdmen,—the author, 
or authoress, of certain eggs found in swamps, meekly accepted and no 
questions asked. 

Gallinula—iiterally little hen—is in appearance a sort of connecting 
link between ducks and chickens, but in habit she is an aquatic rail. 
On the one hand, she swims freely and dives readily to escape a pursuer. 
If undisturbed, she moves upon the surface of the water rather daintily, 
nodding the head and perking the tail with each stroke as if she were work- 
ing her passage. When under water the bird makes all speed for shelter, 
where, if sore pressed, she is said to cling to the submerged stems of water- 
plants, allowing only the nostrils to protrude for air. On the other hand, 
the water-hen scuttles over the surface of submerged vegetation, or threads 
the reeds with amazing alacrity, or else ranges the grass on the dry borders 
of the swamps. 

But a bird, like a woman, deserves to be praised by a sincere admirer. 
The description of the lowly fowl left us by Dr. Brewster! will not soon 
be surpassed; for he wrote under the inspiration of first discovery. A 
few of his paragraphs are obligatory. 

‘Sometimes one appeared, sometimes the other, but the male the 
more frequently. He was a truly beautiful creature. With the exception 
of the yellow tip, his bill was scarlet, and this color extended back over a 
broad frontal shield which at a little distance looked like the red comb of a 
laying hen. At every movement of the head this brilliant color flashed 
like a flame. When he swam in under the bushes it glowed in the dense 
shade like a living coal, appearing and disappearing as he turned toward 
or from us, and often catching the eye when all other trace of him was lost. 
In the sunlight his breast appeared to be of a rich bluish plum color, at 
other times slaty. The legs were greenish yellow, the head black, the neck 
nearly so, the wings and back cinnamon or reddish brown. 

“His manner of swimming and of feeding from the surface of the water 
was very like that of a Coot.. He sat high and accompanied the strokes 
of the feet with a forward-and-backward nodding motion of the head and 
neck, accentuated at times as he reached out to seize some tempting mor- 
sel. On land he walked like a Rail, threading his way deftly among the 
stems of the bushes and tall rushes, stepping daintily, lifting and putting 
down his feet slowly, and almost incessantly jerking up his tail with a 
quick, nervous motion which caused the under coverts to flash like the 


1Auk, Vol. VIII., Jan. 1891, pp. 1-7; ‘‘A Study of Florida Gallinules with Some Notes of a Nest Found at 
Cambridge, Massachusetts’ by William Brewster. 


The Florida Gallinule 


sudden flirt of a handkerchief. As he picked his food from the vegetation 
at his feet, the head and neck were shot forward and downward at inter- 
vals of about a second with a peculiarly vivid, eager motion. His manner 
of walking and feeding also suggested that of the Guinea-hen, the body 
being carried low and in a crouching attitude, while the movements of the 
head partook of that furtive swiftness which is so characteristic of this 
barnyard fowl. 

“Our Gallinule at most times, whether in action or repose, was a bird 
of slender shape and graceful outline, his carriage light yet firm, the play 
of the body lithe and strong. While preening his feathers, however, his 
attitude was often stiff and awkward, and the ruffling of his plumage made 
him appear nearly as portly as a duck. Again, the motion of flight was 
ludicrously awkward and uncouth. When, frightened by a glimpse of us 
through the flags, he rose and flew with legs hanging down, wing-beats 
feeble and labored, the whole bearing was indicative of strain and ‘ex- 
haustion, which received an added emphasis from the abrupt reckless 
drop into the bushes which ended the flight.”’ 

Although more or less associated with the Coots, the Gallinules keep 
much more to the shelter of the reeds, and they are much more difficult to 
flush. Their presence in the swamp is betrayed at nesting time by a suc- 
cession of varied and animated notes which now resemble the Coot’s, and 
now differ sharply from them. A common frog-like outburst, kup or bup, 
I cannot certainly distinguish from the Coot’s note of disturbance. An 
amorous note of the male is decidedly rail-like, crepitant, to be exact, 
tick’ et—tick' et—tick'et—tick'et. For the rest, one must appeal again to Dr. 
Brewster, who had the advantage of studying isolated pairs: ‘‘Sometimes 
they gave four or five loud harsh screams, very like those of a hen in the 
clutches of a Hawk—only slower and at longer intervals; sometimes a 
series of sounds closely resembling those made by a brooding hen when dis- 
turbed, but louder and sharper. Then would succeed a number of queru- 
lous, complaining cries, intermingled with subdued clucking. Again I 
heard something which sounded like this: kr-r-r-r, kruc-kruc, krar-r, 
kh-kh-kh-kh-kea-kea, delivered rapidly and falling in pitch toward 
the end.” 

Gallinules allow themselves an even greater latitude than Coots in 
the choice of nesting sites, save that they do not often nest in open water 
nor in exposed situations. The nest itself is a shallow basket of coarse 
dried grasses or cat-tail leaves, bedded in broken-down reeds or else built 
up on floating vegetation. I have seen nests as high as two feet above the 
water, and others which were veritable arks of bulrushes supported by the 
water itself. Occasionally these structures ride the water so freely that 
they will rise with the flood; but usually their dependence upon surround- 


1550 


Px 


igen fire ofa handkerchief. As he picked his food from the vegeta tion 
at his feet, the head and neck were shot forward and downward at inter, 
wals of about a second with a peculiarly vivid, eager motion, His manner 
of penne and feeding also suggeste ed that of the Guinea-hen, the body — 

rried low and in a crouching attitude, w hile the movements of the 

head pe nek ot that furtive, swiftness which is 89 characteris Hic of this. 


wilirigke at west times, w agg in action or repose. ~ bird 
a d gracetial outhine, his carriage hehe | yet iia a 
5 W bs preening his fe 


e & TET t 


The American Coot 


ing reed stems is so close that they would be overwhelmed by a rise in the 
water. Mr. Verdi Burtch reports! a pair of Gallinules which built up 
their nest when thus threatened, and elevated the eggs ten inches in a 
single day. 

Eggs to the number of six or eight, rarely more, are deposited in this 
basket, and incubation may begin before the complement is reached. The 
eggs, both in shape and coloring, proclaim their affinities with the Rail. 
Although lusterless when fresh, and averaging perhaps a little more richly 
spotted, liver-brown on a background of cartridge-buff, the eggs can be 
almost exactly duplicated by those of the King Rail (Rallus elegans) or 
California Clapper Rail (R. obsoletus). Now and then one comes upon 
Coots’ eggs which have liver-brown markings instead of blackish, but those 
of the Gallinule are much larger, and the texture of the shell is coarser. 

A brood of Gallinule chicks—tiny black fellows with funny szlver 
whiskers—are fully as cunning as any raised on shore. Indeed, I do not 
know of a more heartening sight in nature than the maternal tenderness of 
a mother Gallinule, with her wise cluckings and her graceful bobbings, 
attended by the earnest obedience of these tiny bobbers and patterers. 
The little fellows will peep lustily if but a weed-stem separates them from 
their fond parent; and, indeed, how otherwise could they subsist in this 
place which looks to them like a trackless Amazonia of gigantic forests! 


No. 310 


American Coot 


A. O. U. No. 221. Fulica americana Gmelin. 


Synonyms.—MupD-HEN. WATER-HEN. CROW-DUCK. POUL D’EAU.  IvorRyY- 
BILLED Coot. 


Description.—Adult: General color blackish slate, bluer-tinted above, browner- 
tinted below; head and neck pure black; lower scapulars and interscapulars tinged with 
olive-green; edge of wing, exterior margin of first primary, tips of secondaries, and lateral 
and posterior under tail-coverts white. Bill ivory-white, a dark brown spot near the 
tip of each mandible; frontal shield brownish red; tarsi and feet greenish; toes margined 
by scalloped flaps. Adult in winter: Plumage lightened below by whitish tips of 
feathers; frontal shield reduced in size. Jmmature: Similar but more extensively 
tipped with whitish; frontal shield still further reduced; red spots on bill wanting; bill 
obscure flesh-color or with olive tinge. Downy young: Nearly bald on crown; general 
color slaty black; head and neck decorated with orange-colored bristly filaments; 
remaining upperparts with similar but paler filaments. Bill orange-red, narrowly 
tipped with black. Length about 381 (15.00); wing 186.7 (7.35); tail 55.9 (2.20); bill 
(including frontal shield) 44.5 (1.75); tarsus 53.3 (2.10); middle toe and claw 78.7 
(3.10). 


1 Auk, Vol. XXXIV., July, 1917, p. 319. 


L55/ 


The American Coot 


Recognition Marks.—Crow size, to appearance; substantially uniform colora - 
tion (slaty black); white bill; lobate feet; known from preceding species by somewhat 
larger size; bill not red and red of frontal shield more brownish. 

Nesting.— Nest: A bulky mass of tules, cattail-leaves, or fresh-cut sedges, 
moored in shallow water, or built up on damp ground, or else more or less supported 
and concealed by growths in deeper water. Eggs: 6-15, 16 of record; ovate or elongate 
ovate, dull yellowish buff or yellowish olive-buff, finely, sharply, and uniformly sprinkled 
with deep purplish red or seal-brown, appearing blackish. Av. size 49.5 x 33 (1.95 x 1.30); 
index 66.6. Season: April 15-June 15 (July at higher altitudes); one or two broods. 

General Range.—Chiefly North America. ‘‘Breeds from central British Colum- 
bia, southern Mackenzie, Manitoba, Quebec, and New Brunswick, south to northern 
Lower California, Texas, Tennessee, and New Jersey, and also in southern Mexico, 
southern West Indies, and Guatemala; winters from southern British Columbia, Nevada, 
Utah, the Ohio Valley, and Virginia, south to Colombia; casual at Ft. Yukon, Alaska, 
and in Greenland, Labrador, and Bermuda”’ (A. O. U. Check-List, 3rd Ed.). 

Distribution in California.—Abundant resident in suitable localities through- 
out the State. The breeding stations in the warmer sections are more or less deserted 
at the end of the season, and it is surmised (Grinnell, Bryant and Storer) that an alti- 
tudinal migration takes place. The Coot population of southern California is greatly 
augmented in winter, and many birds resort to salt water. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Fulica americana), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 224 (California); Grinnell, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. v., 1908, p. 54 (San 
Bernardino Mts.; desc. nests, growth of young, etc.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 
1913, p. 23 (San Joaquin Valley; habits, etc.); Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Bull. no. 128, 
1914, p. 43, map (distr. and migr.); Grinnell, Bryant and Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, 
p- 313 (desc., occurrence, habits). 


WHEN a canvas canoe propelled by a double-bladed paddle grows big 
upon the horizon and then brushes noisily against the weedy outpost of 
some tule swamp, an ominous hush falls over the scene, a silence broken 
only by the rustling of the arum tops. You saw birds from the distance, 
but every man Jack of them has fled. The reeds will tell no tales. Pres- 
ently a grebe relieves the tension by snorting—that is the word—then 
dives suddenly to quench his ill-timed mirth; next a leaden figure steals 
from behind a distant clump of reeds and glances this way and that ap- 
prehensively. It is only a man in a boat—perhaps—she did want to visit 
that snail-bed before the sun got too high. So she advances, not without 
many misgiving hitches of the head, across an intervening stretch of bare 
water, and disappears behind a screen of reeds. The passage successfully 
accomplished, another Mud-hen, and another, ventures forth, the last one 
sniffing scornfully over the alleged danger. Confidence restored, the in- 
vaded precincts begin to re-echo to their wonted sounds of life, splashing 
and noise of pursuit, and mellow notes of several sorts. Only sit quiet and 
your stranger presence will soon be accepted as matter of course. 

Where unmolested, Mud-hens fill about as large a place in the econ- 
omy of a well-conducted swamp as do chickens in a barnyard. Especially 


1558 


The American Coot 


“MID HAUNTS OF COOT AND HERN” 


in the breeding season, the sound of their gulp- 
ing call, pulque pulque pulque pulque, is the pre- 
vailing note of the swamp. These notes are 
rendered with the head close to the water, and 
seem to afford a prodigious relief to the bird’s 
feelings. The Coot, on fatigue duty, is a very 
prosy-looking fowl, for the bird ordinarily sits 
half submerged, with lowered wings and tail 
both sloping into and under the water; but the 
Coot on dress parade is a very different-looking 
fellow, albeit his uniform is the same. When 
the ladies are looking, he sits high in the water; 
the wing-tips are pointed obliquely upward; 
the tail is held vertically or tilted forward; and 
two white patches of feathers, one on each side 
of the tail, are flashed into view and carried prominently. 

Courtship is largely a matter of pursuit. In this both pursuer and 
pursued rise, or only half rise, from the water, with much floundering and 
splashing. And they proceed only a rod or two when both fall back ex- 
hausted, the female usually well in advance. This is mere gallantry on the 
part of the male, and exaggerated pretense on the part of both. When the 
male is in earnest, the pursuit is carried on under water as well as above it. 
Much time is spent by enamored couples in simply gazing into each other’s 
eyes. A pair will face each other, beak to beak, with necks stretched out 
full length upon the water, and paddle about for minutes together in fas- 
cinated circles. The hinder parts, meanwhile, are carried high like those 
of aswan. This v7s-d-vis pose is also a menace on the part of rivals, and is 
the inevitable preliminary of any cock fight. In this the birds appear to 
depend upon nail more than upon tooth, for they lean back upon the water, 
bracing with their wings, behind, and kick at each other most absurdly. 
After such an episode, which the female, as likely as not, has interrupted, 


L559 


The American Coot 


all the interested parties float about with ruffled feathers and outstretched 

heads laid low, each apparently in a sort of trance of self-satisfaction. 

Coots are highly gregarious at all times. Although the necessities of 

the nesting season enjoin a somewhat wide dispersal, there is no such thing 

as privacy in the Coot’s 

affairs. This makes for 

loose morals; and_ al- 

though some preference 

for mates, with a work- 

ing partnership, is un- 

doubtedly effected, it is 

probable that inter- 

course is more or less 

indiscriminate. This is 

evidenced by the readi- 

ness with which other 

cocks are disposed to 

butt in upon any chase 

in progress, quite after 

Taken near Santa Barbara 2 : Photo by the Author the imate oNOKeNE of the do- 

THE FLASH OF WHITE ON THE ieee Seaees IS THE ‘FOLLOW ME” SIGN mestic fowl. : 

The copulation of 

Coots, a momentary affair at best, is accomplished upon or under the water 

and involves at least the complete submersion of the female. Bearing 

in mind this fact, as also the pugnacity and the amativeness of the Coot, 

which, in the former respect at least, is equal to that of the barnyard fowl, 

I believe we have the key to certain strange conduct which has been wit- 

nessed upon several occasions in connection with the discovery of a nest. 

One of the interested birds, presumably the male, rises upon the water and 

treads vigorously in a crouching position, much as a bird would do in 

copula. But there is no bird there! Is he not then setting up the ap- 

pearance of the act, a little exaggerated perhaps, in order to excite jealous 

rage and pursuit, and so of course diverting attention from the imperiled 

nest? Viewed from any lofty height this is a ridiculous performance, but 

the poor fellow knows only the range of emotions to which he himself 

would respond. The female, too, on occasion flashes her sex charms as a 

decoy ruse, with such indifferent success that not one observer in a hundred 

is aware of what is happening. More sensibly, she splashes vigorously, so 

as to distract attention by sheer noise; or else she strikes the water sud- 

denly with her feet and makes a startling sound, like the plunge of a 
muskrat. 

Every one is familar with the shuffling manner in which a Coot rises 


7500 


The American Coot 


from the water, floundering and kicking to get up steam; then lumbering 
off at a low height only to splash down again at what it supposes a safe 
distance. Under the spell of persecution the birds learn to get up more 
nimbly, and once under way, prove to be not ungraceful flyers. In flight 
they carry their legs at full length behind them, and seem to use them quite 
cleverly as a rudder, to supply the deficiencies of the abbreviated tail. 

Whether flying or diving or walking, the mud-hen enjoys a highly 
varied diet. While much of its food consists of snails and water bugs and 
aquatic larve, it feeds heavily upon water plants and herbage. Upon a 
northern lake I watched a flock of mud-hens feeding upon a long-leafed 
water plant which grew two or three rods from shore and in some depth 
of water, say six or eight feet, and which could be obtained only by diving. 
In diving, the Coots leaped upward and turned a half somersault in the air, 
quite after the fashion of the grebe, and they brought the leaves to the 
surface in dripping beakfuls to be devoured piecemeal. The birds are 


Photo by the Author 


Taken in San Francisco 
THE CROWD 
quite capable, likewise, of gleaning grain from the bottom of a duck-pond, 
and on this account have gotten themselves cordially disliked by the 
sportsmen. 
While chiefly a fresh-water bird, the Coot infests brackish ponds as 
well and has no aversion to the salt, salt sea, if only an easy living is 


150L 


The American Coot 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
THE BATHING BEACH 


promised. In winter, therefore, they gather in considerable numbers at 
the sewer outlets which disgrace some of our coastal cities and defile 
alleged bathing beaches. 

As a pleasant offset to these offensive recollections, is the sight of a 
flock of mud-hens foraging on shore. At Stow Lake, for example, in 
Golden Gate Park, the festive Coots swarm over the banks in search of 
grass, which they pluck after the fashion of geese. The keepers have in 
many instances lined the shore with brush to keep the birds off the tender 
herbage; but where they cannot crawl, the birds will fly, so that such 
protection is practically worthless. It is a pretty sight to see, as we did 
one day, a flock of forty mud-hens feeding industriously on a sloping 
greensward, while a dozen California Quails darted about amongst them, 
like children at a picnic. 

Wherever absolute protection is afforded, the mud-hens will become 
as tame as chickens. Feeding the mud-hens, then, is a favorite afternoon 
pastime at Stow Lake. Some of the “‘mob”’ photographs shown here- 
with are evidence of the author’s weakness in this direction. I found the 
birds very active, and nimble to a fault in securing my offerings of crumbs. 
In fact, although I was very anxious to encourage the ducks, not one crumb 
in ten, however skillfully thrown before some expectant Mallard or Pintail, 
but was snapped up by the agile Coot. While the duck was making up his 
mind that that white something on the water might be edible, the Coot 
behind him had risen, shot over the water, snapped up the morsel and 
off again with vibrating head—vibrating so that none might snatch it 
from his beak before he had time to down it. So intent did the Coots 


1502 


The American Coot 


become on the chase that they would crowd together where the crumb 
was going to fall, and in the scrimmage which followed it was not unusual 
for one or more birds to be forced up off the water—birds literally two 
stories deep. Never a bird was left to undisturbed enjoyment of his 
catch, and many a morsel was halved and quartered before it disappeared. 
A particularly large piece would send its owner scudding over the water, 
if it were half way across the pond, and his progress was continually 
intercepted by halfbacks and fullbacks tackling on the slant. There 
was some bad feeling engendered, and | had time to witness again that 
curious cock fight wherein the combatants lie back on the water with 
wings outstretched by way of stays, and, with heads cocked forward, 
kick at each other with vicious intensity. 

Although the Coot bids fair to thrive under cultivation, there is 
one situation, and that in his favorite haunts, where he never feels at 
home. If he is caught out anywhere in that area of tall stiff grass which 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
BIRD TRACKS 


THE FLEEING BIRD, DISTINGUISHED BY A WHITE PATCH ON THE TIPS OF THE SECONDARIES, MAY BE DESCRIED AT THE 
LEFT EXECUTING THE LAST KICK 


surrounds a good many of our swamps, and especially if the observer comes 
up between the Coot and the water, the bird knows he is fairly trapped 
and will as likely as not stop suddenly and stand absolutely motionless. 
On such occasions, I have caught them by hand without a struggle— 
playing possum—and friends have done the same, although the bird 


The American Coot 


appeared to be very much alive when released either in the air or upon the 
water. It would appear that the bird cannot launch to wing on account 
of the impeding grass, and, realizing its plight, attempts deception in- 
stead. 

By way of nesting the Coot puts a hatful of speckled eggs on a bulky 
heap of broken sedges or tules. This accumulation may be placed either 
on dry land near some waterway, or in various depths of water in the weedy 
or reedy margins of a lake. Not infrequently nests are built on the water 
and moored to standing 
reeds, after the fashion 
of Grebes,—with this dif- 
ference, however, that 
the Coot under such cir- 
cumstances always 
chooses dried weed- 
stalks, or crumpled bul- 
rush stems for nesting 
material, so that the 
buoyancy of the sub- 
merged portion will lift 
the surface of the struc- 
ture high and dry above 
the water. A runway 
or ‘‘gang plank”’ of mat- 
ted rushes is usually pro- 
vided, and this is an- 
chored or steadied in 
such fashion that the 
nest will not be upset 
by the weight of the 
approaching bird. 

Since it is not pos- 
sible to do justice to the 
relationships of birds in 
any linear taxonomic 
arrangement, | prefer to 
stress the tie existing 
between the Ralliformes 
and the Galliformes. 
Whatever other connec- 
ites BA Si Deo (Gan a tions we must recognize 

n/12 AMERICAN COOT for these two groups, 


7504 


The American Coot 


there is undoubtedly a 
close affinity both in 
structure and in habit 
between them. We 
should doubtless have 
clearer insight into the 
phylogenetic history of 
the Coot, if we were 
able to interpret the 
meaning of the chick’s 
downy plumage. As is 
well known, the young 
of any animal repeats 
in the successive stages 
of its growth the devel- 
opmental history of its 
race. Bearing this fact 
in mind, a brief descrip- 
tion of a baby Coot 
will not be without in- 
terest: General color 
black, the down of body 7 
plumage everywhere in- Taken in Washington 
terspersed with longer 

hair-like feathers, the terminal or exposed portion of these pale 
orange on upperparts, intensifying to bright orange-red around chin, 
sides of face, and back of head, forming together with their black 
bases, now exposed, an absurd tonsure; short feathers of lores and 
ring of minute feathers about eyes still redder orange; top of head bare, 
forehead, except central line and space over eyes, livid purple, changing 
on crown to pale red; bald area modified by tiny rows of starting feathers; 
bill black at tip with a speck of white on top, thence to base passing 
through four shades of red, pale vermilion or saturn red, coral, light 
maroon, and purplish maroon; underparts modified to dull gray by whitish 
tips of projecting hairs; feet bluish gray. Surely the remote ancestors 
of the now plebeian Coots must have been gay birds! 

“Could anything exceed the selfishness of a young Coot? Here is 
one, the eldest of a prospective family of seven. He has been hatched at 
least a minute and a half, possibly two minutes. When the enemy appears 
he has a clear perception of the danger, but instead of waiting to warn 
or defend his brethren 1m ovo, he promptly scrambles over the side of the 
nest and paddles off to safety. Heartless infant!” 


A HATFUL OF SPECKLED EGGS 


1505 


Photo by the Author 


The American Coot 


So runs an entry in the author’s note-book. And another entry per- 
taining to the birds whose portraits are shown herewith recites how at the 
tender age of two days the chicks sought first to escape by diving. They 
soon tired of this exercise, however, for although they used their wings 
for paddles—a habit long since abandoned by their nearer ancestors—the 
effort to keep their buoyant fluffiness submerged for any great length of 
time appeared to exhaust them. Thereafter it was plain swimming for 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
BALD-HEADED BABIES 


them; but as often as the hand came too close to one of the chicks, it threw 
itself backward upon the water into a defensive pose, and kicked out as 
bravely as ever its father had done a few weeks before. Out of the mouths 
of babes and sucklings—shall be proclaimed the history of their remoter 
ancestry. Evidently the practice of pedal pugilistics is an ancient one 
with Fulica americana. 

Of the Coot as a game bird the author is not prepared to speak at 
length. Youthful slayers of mud-hens there will always be, but the serious 
pursuit of this artless and ignoble fowl by grown men is one that I refuse 
to discuss. The bird enjoys the same seasonal protection as that afforded 


1500 


The Mongolian Pheasant 


the ducks, but there is no ‘“‘bag limit” prescribed. This omission accords 
with the well known practice of sportsmen of “‘killing off the mud-hens”’ at 
the beginning of each season, so that they will not share the duck feed. 
This unpopularity with the sporting fraternity was once the cause not 
alone of the Coot’s downfall, but of the postponement of some very much 
needed legislation for the protection of the shore-birds. I will tell the 
story, even if it is at the expense of the present senior senator from Cali- 
fornia. In the legislative session of 1913, at the instance of the California 
State Audubon Society, and through the courtesy of the Assembly Com- 
mittee on Game, the author was permitted to draft the provisions of a 
measure afterwards known as the ‘“‘Guill bill,’’ extending protection to 
some forty odd species of birds, chiefly rails, cranes, herons, and shore- 
birds. In this form the bill passed both houses ‘‘unanimously’’; and the 
State Audubon Society in convention assembled, some thirty days after 
the adjournment of the Legislature, was in the very act of celebrating 
the important victory, when word came that Governor Johnson had ve- 
toed the bill. Some sporting friend had gotten the gubernatorial ear and 
had denounced our measure as “‘freak legislation,’’ because it had ex- 
tended protection to the execrated mud-hen. The Coot was the goat and 
has been ever since; but we had the satisfaction, alittle later, of seeing the 
Federal Government take a hand, and the Federal Regulations, supported 
by the act of the California Legislature of 1915, now protect thirty-four 
of the species for which exemption was provided by the Guill bill. 


No. 311 
Mongolian Pheasant 


Introduced. Phasianus torquatus Gmelin. 

Synonyms.—RING-NECKED PHEASANT. CHINESE PHEASANT. DENNY PHEASANT. 

Description.—Adult male: Sides of head largely bare, with livid skin; top of 
head light greenish; short plumicorns dark green; throat and neck all around black, 
with rich metallic reflections; a white cervical collar nearly meeting in front; fore-neck 
and breast, well down, shining coppery red with golden and purplish reflections; sides 
rich fulvous with black spots; belly mostly blackish; above with indescribable intricacy 
of marking,—black, white, copper, fulvous, pale blue, viridian green, glaucous green, 
etc., etc. (we are not morally responsible for the coloring of this marvelous exotic); tail 
much lengthened, mostly greenish fulvous, edged with heliotrope-purple and cross- 
banded with black. Adult female: Much plainer, mostly brownish and without white 
collar; the upperparts more or less spotted and mottled with dusky; the underparts 
nearly plain buffy brown; the tail-feathers barred for their entire length, dusky and 


1507 


The Mongolian Pheasant 


whitish on a mottled brownish ground. Adult male length 762 (30.00) or more, of 
which more than 406.4 (16.00) is tail. 

Recognition Marks.—Size of domestic fowl. Long tail and white collar dis- 
tinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground, of dried leaves, grasses, etc., usually in grass 
tussock or under bush. Eggs: 8 to 15; dark olive-buff, vinaceous buff, or isabella 
color, unmarked. Av. size 40.9 x 33.3 (1.61 x 1.31). Season: April-July; two or 
three broods. 

General Range.— Native in eastern Asia from the valley of the Amur south to 
Canton, China, and west through eastern Mongolia. Introduced and established in 
the Pacific Coast region from British Columbia to northern California. 


Distribution in California.—Variously introduced in many widely separated 
localities. Apparently well established in the northern humid coastal section and in 
Owens Valley. Also, perhaps successfully, in Tulare, Kern, and Santa Clara counties. 


Authorities.—Belding, Land Birds Pac. Dist., 1890, p. 8 (Santa Cruz Co.); 
C. H. Merriam, Ann. Rep. Dept. Agric., 1888, p. 484 (food);Wall, Condor, vol. xvii., 
1915, p. 59 (San Bernardino; nest and eggs); Grinnell, Bryant and Storer, Game Birds 
Calif., 1918, p. 30 (introduction in California); p. 572 (desc. habits, etc.). 


WITHOUT QUESTION the introduction of the ‘‘China’’ Pheasant 
(Phasianus torquatus) to America in 1881 marked a new era in the game- 
bird life of the Pacific Northwest. Credit for this shrewd move belongs to 
Judge O. N. Denny of Oregon, then consul general at Shanghai; and the 
bird is still called by many enthusiastic admirers the ‘‘Denny’”’ Pheasant. 
Unlike that of the English Sparrow, the outrageous profiteer of misguided 
sentimentality, the importation of the Mongolian Pheasant had been most 
carefully considered. Judge Denny studied the facts, and knew the high 
reputation which the bird enjoyed in its native land, both as a table bird 
and as an economic factor in the subjugation of insect pests. He knew, 
too, the necessity of drawing fire from our harassed and over-hunted 
native birds; and he knew the hardiness, adaptability, and fecundity of 
this Chinese fowl. The experiment promised well, and was carried out, 
therefore, with great care and diligence. The promise of these early ex- 
periments has been fulfilled in every particular, not alone in western 
Oregon but in Washington and British Columbia; and the China Pheasants 
are now so thoroughly established in the economic life of the Pacific North- 
west that continued prosperity and usefulness is only a matter of sensible 
regulation. But similar experiments persistently carried out in California 
have been, to say the least, less successful. It has been found that the 
Ring-necked Pheasant is subject to rather exacting climatic requirements. 
The first requisite is humidity, and this is found to perfection only in our 
northwestern coastal counties. Elsewhere the presence of abundant water 
in swamps and flooded sections has measurably supplied the bird’s 


1508 


The Mongolian Pheasant 


necessities, and we find it most thoroughly and hopefully established in 
the lower Santa Clara Valley and in the Owens River country. 

There are many factors which conspire to make the Mongolian Pheas- 
ant the favorite, as it will be in suitable sections the dominant, game bird 
of the West. In the first place, the male bird is a vision of loveliness, 
gorgeous in coloring beyond the ability of a mere word-painter to depict, 
occupying in this regard the same relation to other gallinaceous birds that 
our Wood Duck does to other water-fowl. A cock Pheasant brought to 
bag is both a dinner and a picture, a feast and a trophy. 

Then, and chiefly, the China Pheasant is a good rustler. Evolved in 
his native land under conditions of the most strenuous competition, the 
pheasant race has developed both adaptability and endurance, staying 
qualities which give the bird an assured position in any situation remotely 
similar to that afforded in China. Under protection, Pheasants avail 
themselves of all the privileges, ranging freely across farms and cultivated 
areas, finding sufficient cover in neglected fence-rows or wayside thickets, 
and becoming so bold as to disregard the passer-by, and even to venture 
into the farmyard to feed with the domestic fowls. Under persecution 
the bird as quickly develops wariness and cunning, and is able, under 
necessity, to maintain a thrifty existence in the forests and uncleared river 
valleys, or in the swamps, in complete independence of men. It is even 
able, and this is a vital point, to quickly discriminate between open and 
close season, and to resume the warier life under the behest of a single 
day’s discipline. 

As a game bird, also, the China Pheasant ranks high. Its flesh is 
above the average, and its pursuit involves all the elements of sagacity, 
skill, and endurance which constitute upland shooting sport. The bird 
lies well to a dog—that is, when cornered—but if he has a running chance, 
the dog must win his point. Pheasants are cunning sneaks and swift 
runners, and the cocks will sometimes travel at top speed for half a mile 
before admitting defeat and crouching for the wing test. The bird leaps 
into the air with a sudden cry, pauses for a fraction of a second to get his 
course, then away on vigorous wings. 

The Pheasant is usually thus pursued with gun and dog, after the 
fashion observed in case of all native grouse, and that moment of indeci- 
sion which always comes after the bird‘is up is the favorable moment for 
the gunner. But it is no mean test of skill to stop a Pheasant in mid- 
flight when the hunt is en battue, after the English and Continental fashion. 

Stubble fields and open situations are the preferred range of the Ring- 
necks, but they are quite at home in the jungle. They are especially to 
be found at the borders of clearings, where their haunting presence is likely 
to be resented by the pioneer who is trying to carve a garden out of a 


1569 


The Mountain Quails 


forest. Some damage they undoubtedly do, just as chickens would, but 
it is to be suspected that those who complain most bitterly of the ‘‘devas- 
tations’? wrought by this fowl are seeking cover for their practice, all too 
frequent, of potting these luscious birds out of season. 

Fecundity is another trait of this hardy fowl. The birds are polyga- 
mous, and the cock is prepared to fight for the possession of the largest 
possible harem. The females raise two or three broods in a season, but 
not content with this, the amorous cocks seek alliance with native and 
domestic species. Hybrids formed by the crossing of China Pheasants 
and Sooty Grouse are not infrequent, and the introduction of wild blood 
into the farmyard results in interesting and not unprofitable forms. 

Cock Pheasants crow somewhat after the fashion of Chanticleer, 
producing a sort of double explosive sound, squawk-squawk, accompanied 
by a vigorous clapping of wings. They are sure to crow immediately upon 
hearing thunder; and once, in Owens Valley, near Independence, after a 
particularly sharp clap of thunder I could trace the course of the aqueduct 
(open at this place) by the successive squawks of the Pheasants stationed 
along its course. In the North I have heard the neighboring pheasants 
crow simultaneously when a blast of Hercules powder “‘let go” under a 
stump. 


No. 312 


Mountain Quail 


A. O. U. No. 292. Oreortyx picta picta (Douglas). 

Synonyms.—PaAINTED QuAIL. NORTHERN MOUNTAIN QUAIL. 

Description.—Adults: A greatly lengthened crest of two superimposed, 
very narrow, black feathers (of which the lower usually much shorter) ; foreparts in gen- 
eral, including breast, broadly slaty gray (Payne’s gray, nearly) changing on nape and 
sides of lower neck to bright olive-brown (dresden brown) of back, wings, and tail; 
throat chestnut (claret-brown), bordered sharply on sides by line of black continuous to 
eye; this in turn by narrow band of white; forehead ashy, region about base of bill, 
narrowly, white; lower middle of belly, narrowly, buffy; remainder of belly, broadly, 
lower sides, and flanks, rich chestnut (claret-brown), interrupted on sides of belly by a 
longitudinal series of bold broadly scaled black and white bars, somewhat variable as to 
width and admixture with chestnut; crissum black, faintly touched with chestnut; 
inner secondaries and tertials broadly edged with white on the inner webs (usually 
tinged somewhat with buffy or tawny), forming a conspicuous lengthwise border on 
folded wing. Bill dusky, paling below; feet dull brownish. Females are less exten- 
sively chestnut below and have crests averaging a little shorter than those of males. 
Near adult: Olive-brown of upperparts paler and duller, the feathers faintly edged 
with whitish. Immature (4 to 6 weeks old?): Upper plumage extensively and finely 
mottled with shades of brown and dusky (suggesting Bonasine affinities), the half- 
grown crest touched with brown terminally; chin white, the sides of throat broadly 


1570 


The Mountain Quails 


black; chestnut tinge appearing on flanks and thighs; the slaty of breast less blue, the 
feathers tipped with white. Chick: Upper plumage entirely mottled, buffies, browns, 
and duskies; breast much as in immature, but throat plain buffy; belly and flanks 
buffy- and dusky-barred. Average of 10 adults: length (skins) 251 (9.88); wing 129.7 
(5.11); bill 13.7 (.54); tarsus 35.9 (1.41). 

Recognition Marks.—Robin size, but nearly small grouse in apearance; 
throat chestnut; long straight crest distinctive; ‘“‘larger’’ wing-sound in rising, as com- 
pared with Valley Quail. 

Nesting.— Nest: A slight depression in earth, lined scantily with dead leaves, 
pine needles, or other forest litter, sometimes placed under shelter of bush, log, or 
fallen branch. Eggs: 5 to 15; short ovate and pointed; light buff or pale ochraceous 
buff, unmarked; often stained brownish through contact with wet leaves. Av. size 
33-7 X 25.3 (1.33 x 1.00); index 75.2. Season: June (April 7-August); one brood. 

Range of Oreortyx picta.—The Pacific Coast states and Lower California. 

Range of O. p. picta.—The humid coastal district of western Washington, western 
Oregon, and northwestern California. 


Distribution in California.—Resident in the humid coastal belt, broadly, 
into Trinity County, in the North; south to Sonoma County. Reappears sparingly 
in the mountainous district of Santa Cruz County, and in western Monterey County 
south at least to Big Creek. 

Authorities.—Douglas (Ovtyx picta), Trans. Linn. Soc. London, vol. xvi., pt. 
I, 1829, p. 143 (orig. desc.; interior of Calif.); Ridgway, Auk, vol. xi., 1894, p. 193, pl. 
vi. (distr.; crit.); Grinnell, Bryant and Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, p. 513 (desc. 
occurrence, habits, etc.). 


No. 312a San Pedro Quail 


A. O. U. No. 292a. Oreortyx picta confinis Anthony. 

Synonyms.—PLUMED PARTRIDGE. PLUMED QuAIL. MouNTAIN PARTRIDGE. 
SOUTHERN MOUNTAIN QUAIL. 

Description.—Similar to O. picta picta, but slaty blue of foreparts nearly or 
quite displacing olive-brown on nape and upper back; general tone of upperparts a 
little lighter and duller; forehead whitening; the border area of inner secondaries and 
tertials clear white and only slightly tinged with buffy. 

Status.—This form was created in recognition of a slight tendency. Any one 
of the characters assigned above may be contradicted by individual examples from 
any locality, but the consensus of characters appears to hold. Other characteristics 
quite as in preceding. 

Range of O. p. confinis —Mountainous districts of the Pacific Coast states from 
northwestern Oregon (west of the Cascade Mountains) south through the Sierras and 
the southern coast and southern interior ranges of California, to northern Lower Cali- 
fornia, and east to extreme western Nevada,—resident throughout its range. 

Distribution in California.—Found at middle levels upon all mountains, save 
those of the humid coastal district (where replaced by O. p. picta) and the most barren 
desert ranges. Occurs to the levels of some of the higher plateaus and retreats before 
the snows of winter. 

Authorities.—Gould (Ortyx plumifera), Icones Avium, pt. 1, Aug., 1837, pl. 9 
(orig. desc.; “‘California’’); Dwight, Auk, vol. xvii., 1900, p. 46 (plumages and molts); 
Judd, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 21, 1905, p. 58 (food); Grinnell and 
Swarth, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. x., 1913, p. 228 (San Jacinto Mts.; habits; crit., 
as regards O. p. confinis). 


I571 


The Mountain Quails 


Acer) rook 


MOUNTAIN QUAIL 


TWO SENSES minister chiefly to our knowledge of birds, namely, 
sight and hearing. There are observers, and some of them very keen bird- 
men, who seem scarcely to be aware that birds have voices. Yet the infor- 
mation gained by the ear, if more limited in scope, is much more abundant, 
more stimulating or seductive, and more natural withal. Fora bird under 
conscious survey, whatever his reactions, is scarcely natural. Often he is 
tense or distraught, but oftener still he is tame, timid, and subdued; 
whereas, a bird at a little distance, unaware of your presence, may enact 
a vocal drama of domesticity whose every line you may read; or he may 
utter his heart so fully, that you could scarcely wish to see the painted clay 
which gave utterance to such aspiration or purified desire. For myself I 
am content that the Hermit Thrush should be a voice of the high Sierras, 
and I am content that the Mountain Quail sounds a hundred bugling notes 
to one exposure of a skulking or a scurrying form. 

The Mountain Quail’s is the authentic voice of the foothills, as well 
as the dominant note of Sierran valleys and of bush-covered ridges. 
Spring and summer alike, and sometimes in early autumn, one may hear 
that brooding, mellow, slightly melancholy too’ wook, sounding forth at 


1572 


The Mountain Quails 


intervals of five orsixseconds. Nowand then it is repeated from a distant 
hillside where a rival is sounding. This note is easily whistled, and a 
little practice will enable the bird-student to join in, or else to start a 
rivalry where all has been silent before. And quite as frequently, in 
springtime, a sharper note is sounded, although this, I believe, is strictly 
a mating or a questing call, quéelk or queelp. his has alike a liquid and 
a penetrating quality which defies imitation, so that the unfeathered 
suitor is not likely to get very far in milady’s affections. Thus, also, I 
have ‘‘witnessed”’ the progress of courtship and its impending climax in 
the depths of a bed of ceanothus where not a feather was visible. The 
quilk of the preceding days had evidently taken effect. The lady was 
there, somewhere. The mate was still guzlking, but his efforts were hurried, 
breathless. Between the major utterances, ecstatic took notes were inter- 
jected. As the argument progressed I heard a low-pitched musical series, 
rapidly uttered, look look look look look. (But there was no use in looking). 
This series, employed six or eight times, was suddenly terminated by half 
a dozen quilks in swift succession, indicative of an indescribable degree of 
excitement. 

Not less uncanny nor less fascinating are the vocal accompaniments 
with which a scattered covey of youngsters is coached or reassembled. 
If the little ones are of a tender age and the need is great, the parent will 
fling herself down at your feet and go through the familiar decoy motions; 
but if the retreat has been more orderly, the parents clamber about, 
instead, over the rocks and brush in wild concern. Once out of sight, 
the old bird says querk querk querk querk, evidently an assembly call, for 
the youngsters begin scrambling in that direction; while another old bird, 
presumably the cock, shouts quee yawk, with an emphasis which is nothing 
less than ludicrous. 

On such occasions the mobile crest or plume which characterizes 
this bird is played to the utmost. The plume separates into its two com- 
ponent feathers and is thrust forward as far as possible, so that the anterior 
feather lies almost horizontally, while its fellow, usually a little shorter, 
bristles at an angle of thirty degrees, and all the other feathers of the 
crown bristle like porcupine quills. I was much interested also to see 
half-grown chicks wearing their nascent plumes a la pompadour. 

Save in the extreme northwestern and southeastern portions of its 
range, the Mountain Quail is to be found in summertime somewhere 
between 2000 or 3000 and gooo feet elevation, according to local condi- 
tions of cover. It inhabits the pine chaparral of the lesser and coastal 
ranges, but its preference is for mixed cover, a scattering congeries of 
buck-brush, wild currant, service berry, Symphoricarpus, or what not, 
with a few overshadowing oaks or pines. In the northwestern portion 


The Mountain Quails 


of its range (O. p. picta) the bird comes down nearly to sea-level and 
accepts dense cover. In the southeastern portion, namely, on the 
eastern slopes of the desert ranges overlooking the Colorado Desert, the 
Mountain Quail, according to Mr. Frank Stephens, ventures down and 
nests at an altitude of only 500 feet. It is closely dependent here upon 
certain mountain springs, which it visits in common with L. c. vallicola and 
L. gambeli._ Under certain conditions, therefore, its breeding range over- 


Taken in Fresno County Photo by the Author 
MOUNT GODDARD, FROM THE SOUTH 


MOUNTAIN QUAIL COUNTRY 


laps that of the Valley Quail. There are several instances on record of 
nests containing eggs of both species, and at least one hybrid has been 
found,! conjectured to be between O. p. confinis and L. c. californica. 
The nesting of the Mountain Quail is conducted at the higher levels 
of its range. Ten or a dozen eggs, of a rich buffy hue, unmarked, line a 
scanty shakedown of grasses or pine needles, which almost invariably 
enjoys the shelter of a projecting rock, an arching tree-bole, or a thicket 


1In Harvey County, Oregon. See Condor, Vol. XIII., Sept. 1911, pp. 149-151. 


1574 


© SS easier 


vel and 


8! 


down and 
ni here won 


a 
tHe 


Hh Sea-lk 


¥i 
ert 


arly 


ty 


ra 


| earnee 


n 


reli 
Veen 
eeteo 


The Valley Quails 


of brush. The female sits closely once incubation has commenced, and 
she appears to be much less sensitive to molestation than other gallina- 
ceous birds. I nearly stepped on one coming down the trail off Mt. 
Shasta in July, 1916. The bird flushed so sharply that I did step on an 
egg which had rolled down into the path from a nest not over a foot away. 

Brood joins brood at the close of the nesting season after the fashion 
of the Lophortyx Quails, but pictas never assemble in such numbers as 
did our earlier californicas. When the berries of the upper levels have 
been gleaned, the Mountain Quails begin a stately migration on foot to 
the lower levels in order to avoid the heavy Sierran snows. At such times 
they are said to be unwary, and even prefer the good walking of the open 
road to a laborious threading of the sage-brush. Hunters used to take 
advantage of this fact, and took excessive toll along certain well known 
valley routes. Since market hunting was abolished, however, the Moun- 
tain Quail population has been picking up. Although their broods are 
smaller than those of the Valley Quail, their enemies are fewer and their 
cover better. They are not great favorites with sportsmen, because 
they will neither lie to a dog nor rise at close quarters, but go scurrying 
away under the brush instead. When they do rise, however, it is with a 
very impressive wing-burst, more nearly akin to that of the Ruffed Grouse 
than that of a Valley Quail. 

Mountain Quails, especially the younger birds, take ready refuge in 
trees, like fledgling grouse; but whether they sleep there I am unable to 
say. Mr. Frank Stephens (MS) says explicitly that they spend the 
night roosting in the thickest available trees; but the authors of ‘‘The 
Game Birds of California’ declare, ‘‘This bird but seldom perches in 
trees, and as far as we know the adults never roost in one at night.” 
It’s up to you, dear reader. We don’t pretend to know it all. 


No. 313 
California Quail 


A. O. U. No. 294. Lophortyx californica californica (Shaw). 

Synonyms.—NorTHERN VALLEY QUAIL. CALIFORNIA PARTRIDGE. 

Description.—Adult male: A narrow recurved crest of five or six closely super- 
imposed feathers, glossy black; a patch involving chin, throat, and sides of head below 
eye, glossy black; this bordered posteriorly by a broad line of white; another semilune 
of white across crown and curving backward along sides of occiput; adjacent region 
posteriorly black, changing to olive-brown of hind-crown and nape; forehead and fore- 
crown buffy, finely pencilled with black; breast, narrowly, sides of breast, and the tail 
slaty gray (Payne’s gray); sides of neck and cervix broadly slaty gray, finely spotted 


T5795 


The Valley Quails 


with white and finely ribbed and bordered with black, changing on upper back to clear 
olive-brown (Prout’s brown to mummy-brown) of remaining upperparts; the inner webs 
of tertials ochraceous buffy or tawny, forming conspicuous stripes; sides the color of 
back, sharply striped with creamy white; lower breast, broadly, light ochraceous buff; 
upper belly centrally bright chestnut, on sides white, the three areas last mentioned 
presenting a handsomely scaled appearance, by reason of sharply-defined, curved, 
black borders; flanks, shanks, and crissum ochraceous buffy striped with dark brown; 
the lower belly dull buffy finely crossed by dusky. Bill blackish above, lighter below; 
feet and tarsi brownish dusky. Adult female: Somewhat similar to male, but without 
characteristic head markings, mottled olive-gray and white instead, on sides of head 
and throat; entire crown olive-brown; breast color of back; underparts without chestnut 
or central ochraceous, white instead—the borders of the scales brownish black; the 
crest somewhat reduced, olive-brown. Bill dull horn-color above, yellowish below. 
Near adult male: Throat dull gray progressively invaded by black; lower breast, cen- 
trally, finely buffy-and-dusky-striped, the advance and intensity of chestnut marking 
increasing age; above traces of wood-brown mottling on wings, and especially on ter- 
tials. Chick: Below whitish; above mottled buffy, brownish, and dusky; a brownish 
patch on crown and nape, foreshadowing that of adult. Chicks a week or more old are 
a highly variegated patchwork of woody browns, buffies, and duskies, more suggestive 
of an adult Sharp-tailed Grouse than of the plain-backed Quails. Av. of 10 adult 
males: length 245.7 (9.67); wing 109.6 (4.31); tail 80 (3.15); bill 11.1 (.44); tarsus 
33.6)\(1232))e 

Recognition Marks.—Robin size; dense recurved crest; black throat of male; 
scaled appearance of belly and darker coloration distinguishes from L. gambeli; weight 
decidedly less than that of Mountain Quail. 

Nesting.— Nest: A hollow in ground, lined carelessly with dead leaves or grasses 
and a few feathers, placed in shelter of weeds, thick grasses, fence-corner, logs, or pro- 
jecting rocks, or, rarely, built up on brush-pile, top of stump, or even side of haystack. 
Eggs: 6 to 22, or more, usually 10 to 15; short-ovate, pointed, ivory-yellow or cream- 
color, finely and rather uniformly sprinkled, or coarsely spotted, or even blotched, with 
“golden brown’ (dresden brown to mummy-brown or Prout’s brown). Av. size 
31.6 x 24.1 (1.24 x .95); index 76.6. Season: May—June 15 (July—Sept. 15 of record); 
one or two broods. 

Range of Lophortyx californica.—Pacific Coast states and Lower California. 

Range of L. c. californica—Humid coast strip from southwestern Oregon to 
southern Monterey County; introduced into western Washington, Vancouver Island, 
and Colorado. 

Distribution in California.—As above. 

Authorities.—Shaw (Tetrao californicus), Naturalists’ Miscellany, vol. ix., 
1798, p. 345 (California); Hoover, Bull. Cooper Orn. Club, 1, 1899, p. 75 (destruction of 
quail eggs by snakes); Beal, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 34, 1910, p. 9, 
pl. 1 (food). 


No. 313a Valley Quail 


A. O. U. No. 294a. Lophortyx californica vallicola (Ridgway). 

Synonyms.—SouTHERN VALLEY QUAIL. TOPKNOT QUAIL. 

Description.—Similar to L. californica californica, but paler and grayer, the 
slaty gray prevailing over olive-brown on back and wings (either entirely displacing it 


1570 


D Sie 


me 


5 > Nee 
uf Fe erento “a 


Valley Quail, Female at Nest 


From a photograph by Donald R. Dickey 


Taken in the Ojai 


The Valley Quails 


Taken in the Ojai Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
A GYPSY HOME 


or leaving it irregularly irruptive or as a gloss; the breast of the female grayer, corre- 
sponding to change in color of back); flanks likewise more grayish; the ochraceous buff 
of lower breast slightly paler; the stripe on inner tertials pale buffy to whitish. 

Status.—The progressive graying of this form follows the analogy of Oreortyx 
picta confints, but it has been carried much further and is more definitely established. 

General Range of L. c. vallicola—Resident in Sonoran valleys and in foothills 
from the Klamath Lake region of southern Oregon south to Cape San Lucas (except the 
northwest coast district and the southeastern deserts) east to extreme western Nevada. 
Now widely introduced throughout the West. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant resident at lower levels nearly through- 
out the State, save as displaced by californica in the northwestern fog belt and by 
gambeli in the eastern portions of the Mohave and Colorado deserts. Occurs, perhaps 
less commonly, east of the Sierras south to Owens Valley and the eastern desert ranges 
and extends its range over the western edges of the deserts, where it encounters, and 
perhaps hybridizes with, Desert Quail. Found also along the seacoast from San Luis 
Obispo County south. Introduced on San Clemente. 

Authorities.—Audubon (Perdix californica), Orn. Biog., vol. v., 1839, p. 152 
(Santa Barbara); Ridgway, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. viii., 1885, p. 355 (orig. desc.; 
type locality Baird, Shasta Co.); Williams, Condor, vol. v., 1903, p. 146 (use of sen- 
tinels) ; Judd, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 21, 1905, p. 47 (food); Tyler, Pac. 
Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 32 (San Joaquin Valley; habits, etc.). 


1577 


The Valley Quails 


No. 313b Catalina Island Quail 


A. O. U. (unrecognized). Lophortyx californica catalinensis Grinnell. 


Description.—‘‘Similar to L. c. vallicola but about 9 % larger throughout, 
and coloration somewhat darker; similar to L. c. californica, but larger and much less 
deeply brownish dorsally”’ (Grinnell). 


Status.—A dubitative form whose recognition involves the supreme exercise of 
the critical faculty. An independent comparison between five examples from Santa 
Catalina and ten selected specimens from the mainland sustains the claim of a slightly 
greater wing length for catalinensis, a more robust bill (about equal to maxima of 
L. c. vallicola) and especially robust feet and legs, which exceed the maximum average of 
vallicola by a millimeter or so. 


Range.— Resident on Santa Catalina Island, Los Angeles County. 

Authorities.—Grinnell (Lophortyx catalinensis), Auk, vol. xxiii., 1902, p. 262 
(orig. desc.; type locality, Avalon, Catalina Id.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 
1917, p. 52 (Catalina Id.; crit.). 


GET RIGHT’ UP. Get right’ up. Get right’ up. Is it the voice of 
conscience? or is it some patent new-fangled Californian alarm clock 
which thus admonishes us? It is an unearthly hour—not sunrise yet— 
What! a bird, you say? How interesting! It zs a beautiful morning. 
There is the pungent smell of things newly rained on in the air, and a 
faint mist, like a host of ministering fairies, hovers over the budding 
roses. Perhaps the bird is right. Let’s get up! 

Glad summoner of springtime! Gallant pensioner of our lawns and 
hedges! Brave elf o’ the nodding plume! Is there a heart in California 
that loves you not? Or an ear that does not thrill anew when it hears 
your sturdy call? What can we do to repay the kindness of your daily 
cheer? What less, indeed, than to give you the freedom of our premises, 
to let you glean for us a thousand seeded evils, and to let you parade, un- 
coveted, your saucy beauty? Stay, beautiful bird, and trust us, us 
whose tongues have never tasted your brothers’ blood; us who would as 
soon frighten children as to violate your confidence. Woe is us that you 
must scuttle to the nearest cover and deliberate in anxious accents whether 
to fly or no. Woe! I say, and a plague upon the cause that brought you 
to this pass. 

There! that is a very bad beginning for an account of ‘‘California’s 
leading game bird.’’ For ten years the author of “The Birds of Cali- 
fornia’ has faced the task of expounding to his ‘‘fellow sportsmen’”’ the 
glories of quail-shooting. Duty is written large in the expectation of a 
hundred thousand owners of guns. ‘‘Come,’’ they say, “‘glorify for us 
the ardors of the chase, the rustle of expectation, the sudden hurtling of 
winged rockets, the quick eye and the accurate finger that stops the hurt- 
ling mid-sky, and the limp form retrieved from the sheltering bushes, the 


A\UNOD sajaduy so'yT ur uaye J, 
IIL PY WYO yy 8g ydvabojoyd v wos 
[eng Ade A 94} JO 91S Suljsou pasodxa Ajavpnsuis V 
IIL], UOULIT 94} Aepuy~) 


The Valley Quails 


count of the bag at the day’s end. Recall to our pleasant recollection 
the skill of the cook who serves our birds and the daintiness of the white 
meat, an ounce or two to a portion, that graces our banquets.’”’ Gentle- 
men, I cannot do it. I wouldn’t eat one of those pitiful remnants of 
departed glory, unless I were starving; and I never was anywhere near 
starving—were you? Did you ever really need the flesh of a little bird, 
a beautiful, happy bird? Forgive me and let me pass. 

The Valley Quail’s day begins in some bush or tree—a live oak, as 
like as not—where, in company with his fellows, he has spent the night 
secure from all anxiety as to foxes or coyotes. 

After a visit to some spring or running stream where water is copi- 
ously imbibed, the chief business of the day, if in spring, is foraging on 
grass and other tender herbage; if in autumn, the gleaning of fallen weed- 


Taken in the Ojai Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
A CRESTED BEAUTY 


FEMALE VALLEY QUAIL ON NEST 


L579 


The Valley Quails 


seeds; or it may be a bit of grain, together with such crawling insects as 
come incidentally under review. The quantity and variety of weed- 
seeds consumed by these birds is amazing. Beal lists 73 species of seeds 
found in Quails’ stomachs; and two birds, whose crop contents the in- 


Taken at Los Colibris Photo by the Author 
A “STOLEN” NEST, IN THE GARDEN 


vestigator took pains to count, had about 2000 seeds each aboard. There 
is industry for you! and mightily profitable labor at that—for the farmer. 
If the day is warm, the middle portion is spent in retirement, again in the 
thick foliage of a tree. The siesta finished, the birds venture out again 
to provide another grist for their insatiable seed-hoppers, and to indulge 
a dust-bath, such as all fowls dearly love. As the twilight hour approaches, 
there is much scampering and calling, with some sportive pursuit, and 
a night-cap drink before the company is bedded again under its coverlet 
of thick green leaves. 

The Quail’s year begins some time in March or early April, when the 
coveys begin to break up and, not without some heart-burnings and fierce 
passages at arms between the cocks, individual preferences begin to hold 
sway. It is then that the so-called ‘‘assembly call’’ ku kwak’ up, ku kwak’ 


1550 


The Valley Quails 


uk, ku kwak’ uk-ko, is heard at its best; for this is also a mating call; 
and if not always directed toward a single listener, it is a notice to all and 
sundry that the owner is very happy, and may be found at the old stand. 
Although belonging to a polygamous family, the Valley Quail is very par- 
ticular in his affections; and indeed, from all that we may learn, is at all 
times a very perfect model of a husband and father. Even in domesti- 
cation, with evil examples all about and temptresses in abundance, the 
male quail is declared to be as devoted to a single mate as in the chaparral, 
where broad acres may separate him from a rival. 

The female spends some time casting about before she decides upon 
a nesting site, and during these days, as also during incubation, the male 
posts on a mound of earth or upon the summit of a bush, and calls out 


Taken at Los Colibris Photo by the Author 
AN EARNEST “‘SETTIN’ HEN” 


from time to time witha vibrant yawrk. The nest itself is a mere apology, 
a layette of grass or a few leaves scraped together, but the site is usually 
well concealed in thick grasses, ina clump of ferns, under a protecting bush, 
nestled at the base of a haystack, or even hidden in the cranny of a rock. 


15ST 


The Valley Quails 


In the illustration shown 
on p. 1584 the nine eggs 
were quite invisible from 
above. On another occa- 
sion, at the Point of Rocks 
overlooking the Antelope 
Plains in Kings County, I 
found a deserted set of 
Quail’s eggs in an old Road- 
runner’s nest, placed eight 
feet from the ground in a 
cranny of the sandstone 
cliff and quite unapproach- 
Taken near Santa Barbara 5 
Photo by the Author able save by flight. 


A CUBIST FLIGHT s 
VALLEY QUAIL TAKING TO WING Eggs are deposite d 


daily, from nine or ten to 
twenty-odd, all told, with perhaps an average of thirteen or fourteen; and 
incubation, which is undertaken only upon the completion of the set, lasts 
from 21 to 23 days. The youngsters ‘‘run from the shell,’’ and although 
they do not fly for a week or ten days thereafter, they are so well able 
to care for themselves that their parents rarely deem it necessary to em- 
ploy decoy tactics upon the appearance of danger. There are solicitous 
cries, indeed, and warnings to keep still, but the babies know so well 
the value of their protective coloration that after a momentary scuttling 
for cover, they become immovable and invisible and all but undiscover- 
able. When the enemy has gone, the mother returns circumspectly with 
low anxious cries, pit, pit, pit, upon which the chicks release themselves 
one by one from the all-obliterating embrace of the mottled earth and 
go scurrying to safety. An observer, Mr. F. X. Holzner, of San Diego, 
reporting in the Auk,! tells of very different behavior under imminent 
danger: ‘‘While collecting birds near Lakeside on June 5, 1895, I walked 
unsuspectingly upon a bevy of Valley Partridges consisting of an old 
male and female with about fifteen young ones. They were in the crevice 
of a fallen cottonwood tree. On my stepping almost upon them, the male 
bird ran out a few feet and raised a loud call of ca-ra-ho; while the female 
uttered short calls addressed to her brood. Seeing us, she picked up a 
young one between her legs, beat the ground sharply with her wings, and 
made toward the bush in short jumps, holding the little one tightly be- 
tween her legs, the remainder of the brood following her.” 
Several instances have come to notice of Valley Quails which have 
nested at a considersble distance above the ground. One such was fur- 


1 Auk, Vol. XIII., June, 1896, p. 81. 


1532 


The Valley Quails 


Taken in Monterey County Photo by the Author 
n/20 VALLEY QUAIL 


nished me by Mrs. Bagg, of 412 W. Montecito St., Santa Barbara. Ac- 
cording to this lady, in the summer of 1910 a pair of these birds nested 
on a horizontal stretch of dense wistaria covering an arbor, at a height 
of ten feet from the ground. At first the nest was insecure, and one egg 
fell through to the ground, but the bottom was evidently repaired soon 
after, for there were no more losses. On hatching day the parent birds 
took station on the lawn below and called the chicks to them one by one 
as they tumbled off the trellis roof. The little fellows were oftenest 
stunned at first, but soon recovered and toddled off to join their fellows. 
Presently the parents called them together, led them off, and secreted 
them under a sidewalk a block away. After solemnly charging the little 
brood to remain together and motionless, the parent birds returned to 
look for delinquents. The last two chicks had fallen out after their 
parents had departed, and being evidently the weakest of the lot, had 
lain stunned on the ground for a longer time than usual; but as they were 
beginning to recover, Mrs. Bagg, in mistaken kindness, noting the absence 
of the old birds, gathered them up and took them into the house. The 


1583 


The Valley Quails 


rest of the story is told by another lady, a neighbor across the street, 
who had happened to observe the hiding of the chicks and the return of 
the parents. The lady first hastened down to the sidewalk to confirm 
her surmise, and found the instructed brood huddled together and abso- 
lutely motionless. She then returned and watched the old birds while 
they searched and called in anxiety upon the lawn, until further effort 
seemed useless, whereupon they returned to the infantile cache, withdrew 
the injunction of silence and led the brood away to the hills. 

When I was rehearsing this incident to Mrs. O. D. Norton of Monte- 
cito, then residing at ‘‘Mira Vista,” she related a similar story of a nesting 
on top of her house. The nest had not been discovered until the little 
ones were hatched and were seen running about on the roof. Part of 
the roof of the place is covered by a roof-garden pergola, which is buried 
under a mass of vines, and it was here, although fully thirty feet from the 
ground, that the nesting undoubtedly took place. Mrs. Norton declares 
that some of the chicks, at least, were carried to the ground in the beaks 
of the parent birds. 

The discussion still rages as to whether the Valley Quail raises two 
broods a year or only one. It seems probable, however, that later nests 
are only second attempts on the part of birds who have lost their first 
broods. It must not be forgotten that young quails, as well as eggs in 


i 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
“OR EVEN HIDDEN IN THE CRANNY OF A ROCK" 


1584 


AJUNOD AdtayuopAy UT Uaye 7, 


Loyyn py ays dq ydvibopoud v MOM 


[renG Ade 0z/u 


The Valley Quails 


the nest, are the staple diet of every power that preys,—snakes, coons, 
weasels, squirrels, skunks, badgers, foxes, coyotes, bobcats, jays, ravens, 
Cooper hawks, and horned owls. Think what an ungodly crew is arrayed 
against these gentle fowls, and you will cease to wonder at the fearful 
toll they have to pay in their efforts to perpetuate their kind. So terrible 
are these imposts, and so delicate the resulting balance of nature, that the 
deciding vote as to whether the Quail shall go or stay is cast by man. 
In particular, it is incumbent upon him, if he too is going to take toll, to 
see to it that his fellow depredators are deprived of their normal share. 
Bobcats and Quail cannot coexist, and as for the gopher snake, that much- 
lauded ‘“‘friend of the farmer,”’ I have seen his belly knobbed with Quails’ 
eggs too often for him to expect forgiveness or immunity at my hands. 

The Valley Quails are so essentially sociable, that neighboring flocks 
begin to draw together while the youngsters are still in their infancy. 
It is no unusual sight, therefore, to see a school of, say, three ranks, at- 
tended by half a dozen parent-teachers. With such conditions of aug- 
mented danger, they are likely to keep near the densest cover; and I have 
seen them threading the tules of Laguna Blanca with the agility of rails 
or marsh wrens. Two such aggregations of two and three families, 
respectively, I watched at one time from a reed-blind, as they deployed 
over the bare ground adjacent to the reeds. The count showed that one 
male of the quintette was posted on guard. The others led their flocks 
about warily, pausing ever and again rigidly, and as upright as soldiers. 
Again and again an American Kestrel (Cerchnets s. sparverius) passed over- 
head unfeared, but as often as the companies heard the “‘sharp-shin 
chitter’’ of the Bush-Tits in a distant live oak, they scurried for cover 
instanter. The joke of it was that there was no Sharp-shinned Hawk 
about, and that the Bush-Tits were making all this fuss over the re- 
current passage of this same Kestrel. 

Associated thus from childhood, contiguous flocks are likely to form 
permanent coveys numbering from twenty to sixty individuals. In such 
fashion they maintain themselves throughout the autumn and winter, 
learning flock tactics and cunning under the discipline of gunfire. They 
do not lie well to a dog, and those who hunt them use only retrievers. 
When approached, the flock scatters somewhat before hiding, and it 
rises in wisps and scattered bevies instead of with a single burst like the 
Bobwhite. This favors the hunter in allowing him successive shots; 
but the winging of these speedy bomb-shells is no easy matter, and we 
give the sportsman the credit of earning what he gets. The escaping 
birds often take to trees where, of course, no gentleman will shoot them, 
and the detection of their cowering forms, shrunk to the smallest capacity, 
is none so easy either. 


1585 


The Desert Quail 


Valley Quails, according to all accounts, are now greatly reduced 
in numbers. A half century ago they existed in almost incredible num- 
bers, and flocks of from one to five thousand were regarded as common- 
places. In the old days, too, some destruction of grapes in the vineyard 
was complained of. Even now isolated vineyards, especially if in the 
hills and surrounded by chaparral, are likely to be plundered; but the 
larger operators, the raisin growers of the central valleys, do not com- 
plain, and it appears probable that the birds’ consumption of weed-seed 
and menacing insects far outweighs the damage done. 

The California Quail is noted for its hardihood, its versatility, and 
its adaptability. I have seen a wounded bird swim and dive with great 
aplomb. The species will maintain itself, if need be, in the depths of the 
chaparral; or, if allowed, it will run over our lawns and take a friendly 
bite with our chickens. Its recovery power is enormous. Whereas close 
shooting will nearly devastate a country, protection will bring the birds 
back in two or three years. Its fortunes are, moreover, closely involved 
with the course of the weather. During unusually dry seasons the birds 
do not attempt to breed. On the other hand, I am inclined to believe 
that the quails do raise two broods in unusually favoring circumstances. 
Apart from the weather, their fortunes are in our hands. No one of this 
generation ever saw too many quails. Whether, indeed, they might be- 
come a nuisance under a policy of absolute protection, I cannot tell, but 
until they do, I submit that the esthetic worth of these exquisite, gallant, 
and confiding fowls far outweighs their value as meat. 


No. 314 


Desert Quail 


A. O. U. No. 295. Lophortyx gambeli Gambel. 

Synonym.—GaMBEL’s QUAIL. 

Description.—Adult male: General pattern of head, chest, and upperparts 
much as in L. californica, but black of throat narrowly or scarcely bordered by white 
below; black of forehead tending to displace buffy—entirely successful on forecrown, 
where sharply defining white fillet, which in turn is carried a little further back; hind 
crown and nape bright chestnut (Sanford’s brown); crest a little longer, less sharply 
recurved, and inclined to brownish; chest (narrowly), sides of breast, and cervix (broad- 
ly, changing on upper back), and tail, slaty gray (Payne’s gray), with a tendency to 
darker shaft lines; the feathers on sides of neck and on cervix anteriorly lightly bordered 
and distinctly ribbed with chestnut (but of marked with white); remainder of back, 
wings and upper tail-coverts light brownish olive or buffy olive; stripe along inner 
tertials creamy buff to whitish; pattern of underparts subsimilar, but without scaled 
effect of feathers; sides, broadly, rich bay striped with white; lower breast, broadly, 


71550 


ca Nolley’ Ouiails , according to all accounts, are now greatly reduce 
mn Lagaenanee - A half century ago they existed in almost incredible num- 
b atl flocks of tng one tO five thousand were regarded as common- 
olaces tn Kane all days, too, some destruction of grapes in the vineyard | 
ined of. Even now isolated vineyards, especially if in the — 
serrouncded by chaparral, are likely to be plundered; but the 
F operators, the raisin growers of the central valleys, da not come 
ami it appears probable that the birds’ consumption of weed- seed. 
iinet insects far outweighs the damage done. i 
ornia Quail is noted for its hardihaod, its cecuailes HY; andl 
ve seen a wounded bird swim and dive with great 
will maintain ttself, if need be, in the depths af the 
alfowed, it will run over our laws amt take a friendly ‘ 
Its recovery power is enormeans, Whereas dose | 
vastate a country, protection will bring the birds 
iy facts SAS. PRPeONeX, closely mivolved: 
a5 seasons the culo 


tl SASK 
Hy ee sag tee No ey this 
ere hetiet. imdeed, they might be- 
ict te protection, | cannot tell, but 
uaiien of these exquisite, gallant, 
pee a far their value as meat, 


rie! ¥ os ab 


ae 


5 lor fa 


ter-c 


‘e 


ie 


a wa 


sn teoE 5 Pat 


ieney ta: ay 
“bardered 


pitas gad des tall-cey : 3y 
Sethe: orearey bait to whitish: pet iach ‘ 
tiers af feathers; sides, broadly, eich bay 


The Desert Quail 


plain ochraceous buffy; upper belly, broadly, black (where californica is chestnut); 
lower belly, etc., dull ochraceous buffy, unmarked centrally, on flanks and crissum 
striped with dull chestnut or brownish dusky. Adult female: In general, color tone 
strikingly similar to female L. californica vallicola, but in complete suppression of 
cervical white markings and abdominal scale-like bordering, following closely the pat- 
tern of its own male; no black anywhere; tendency to dark shaft-lines further developed, 
especially on breast; sides as in male, but bay somewhat restricted. Immature and 
chick: Pattern much as in foregoing form, but tone lighter, grayer, with less brown. 
Measurements (average of 5 males and 5 females): length 249.8 (9.83); wing 110.1 
(4.34); tail 90.2 (3.55); bill 10.6 (.42); tarsus 31.7 (1.25). 

Recognition Marks.—Robin size; recurved crest and black throat (of male 
only) much as in Valley Quail; underparts not scaled; bright chestnut of crown in male 
and dark chestnut sides striped with white, distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: A depression in ground lined with grass or leaves; or occasion- 
ally placed on top of a stump or low horizontal limb; or else eggs deposited in elevated 
nest of other bird. Eggs: 8 to 22; short ovate, pale ivory-yellow, cream-color, or 
cream-buff, spotted and blotched irregularly with golden brown or purplish brown 
(dresden brown or Hay’s brown to light seal-brown and aniline black). Av. size 31.2 
X 24.1 (1.23 x .95); index 77.2. A set of 15 eggs taken near Tucson, Ariz., by F. C. 
Willard, May 24, 1913, shows the following extremes: 36.5 x 25.6 (1.44 x 1.01), and 23.6 
x 19.5 (.93x.77). The largest egg is thus 234 times the bulk of the smallest. Between 
these extremes there is a perfect gradation, there being in this set literally no two eggs 
alike. Season: May-June. 

General Range.—Common resident in Lower Sonoran zone of the South- 
western States and northern Mexico, from the desert divide in southern California and 
northeastern Lower California east to the El Paso region of western Texas north to 
southern Nevada, southern Utah, and southwestern Colorado, and south to Guaymas, 
Sonora. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant resident locally, chiefly in the vicinity 
of streams or springs, on the southeastern deserts; west to Hesperia and Banning; north 
to Amargosa and Death Valleys. 

Authorities.—Baird (Callipepla gambeli), in Stansbury’s Expl. Great Salt Lake, 
1853, p- 334 (California); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 432 (habits, molt, 
food, etc.); Thurber, Auk, vol. xiii., 1896, p. 265 (hybrids between gambeli and vallicola) ; 
Grinnell and Swarth, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. x., 1913, p. 230 (San Jacinto Mts., 
habits, occurrence, etc.). 


THE AMAZING fecundity of the desert is nowhere more clearly 
illustrated than in the case of this humble quail. To be sure, the species 
is nearly confined to the presence of water, which it must visit night and 
morning; but wherever at lower levels springs or water courses are to 
be found in Arizona and the adjoining states, there gambeli abounds. 
The Desert Quail loves cover—arrow weed, atriplex, mesquite—and 
though the birds will momentarily alight in bushes, when flushed they 
almost immediately drop to the ground and go scuttling off under cover. 
Pursuit is difficult where fear has once given them legs; and the adroit- 
ness with which a flock, all. but unseen, will melt away and scatter un- 
harmed before the alert gunner, is nothing less than uncanny. 


1587 


The Desert Quail 


But we spoke of fecundity, and the proof of this lies not so much 
in the size of the bag brought in as in the infallible undertone of Gam- 
beline conversation which accompanies the traveler in his movements 
along the base of the foothills which overlook the Colorado Desert, 
or in the progress up the Gila River in Arizona. There seems to be no 
uniformity of opinion yet as to the notes made by these birds; but a close 
study would probably discover an exact parallelism between them and 
the notes of L. californica. At Potholes I have heard the questing call 
kuh kwad kuk, in form almost precisely like that of the Valley Quail, 
but with an accent more drawling, less emphatic, and more southern. 
The call-note of the male bird, as when the female is nest-hunting, is 
whay o’eh, or, more sharply, quayl. In approaching a lurking covey of 
young birds, one is likely to hear soothing daay daay notes. ‘‘Keep 
still” is their message, and a profound silence follows a closer approach. 
When the danger is over and the youngsters dare breathe again, the 
mother bird calls wreck'’up, wreck’up in sharp, anxious tones. 

The need of fecundity is emphasized by a consideration of all the 
dangers which beset the infant steps of the Desert Quail. Snakes abound 
in their country and they are always keen for quail meat, with or without 
toast. Owls take toll; and coyotes secure many victims at night, especi- 
ally during the breeding season. Being more exposed at all seasons than 
are her California sisters of the chaparral, the Desert Quail nests twice 
in the season to make up for losses. Although she nests typically upon 
the ground, as do all other members of this family, the Desert Quail 
exhibits a decided tendency to seek more elevated quarters. Goaded 
to desperation by the coyotes, the Quails will make nests on the tops of 
protected stumps, in hollows of mesquite trees, or in Thrashers’ nests 
new or old,—anything that offers escape from ground-prowling enemies. 
In the mesquite forest below Tucson one of our party took a set of nine 
eggs from the nest of a Crissal Thrasher, placed three feet up in the center 
of an almost impregnable thorn bush. Another nest, which I found in 
the Gunsight Mountains, occupied a chamber excavated in the side of 
an old rat’s nest. But the bird in this case probably sought shelter from 
the heat rather than escape from vermin. 

That the Quail should trust the rat is rather surprising, but I recall 
having startled a covey of very young quails which took instant refuge 
in a rat’s nest. We gave diligent search, in spite of an armament of 
over-shadowing chollas, and we found the chicks, at last, huddled in an 
underground passage with the rat herself no more than a foot away. 

There can be little question that Lophortyx californica and L. gam- 
beli have developed from a common stock. A moment’s consideration 
of the head-pattern in the males of the two species shows this. The pat- 


1538 


n/14 Desert Quail in old Thrasher Nest 
From a photograph by Donald R. Dickey 


Taken near Mecca 


The Dusky Grouse 


terns, indeed, are almost identical in outline, but on the forehead, where 
californica is creamy or yellowish white threaded with blackish, gambeli 
is black threaded with creamy; and the crown of gambeli is a vivid (an 
over-roasted) chestnut, where californica is of a most subdued grayish 
brown. The pattern of the under-plumage, also, while quite different, 
is still traceably similar. The two species thus evolved in sundered en- 
vironments have recently been thrown together along a line roughly 
indicated by the eastern base of the desert-fronting mountains of southern 
California. It is interesting to notice that invasion has been on the part 
of the western bird, vallicola, and that hybrids have resulted. Whether 
or not the offspring of these cousinly reunions are fertile has not been 
established, as it easily might be by experiment with birds in captivity. 
So friendly, indeed, have become the relations of the Quails on the eastern 
base of the San Jacinto Mountains, that the three species, viz.: Mountain, 
Valley, and Desert, are reported drinking from the same spring; and that 
they figure pathetically in the same bag there can be no doubt. 

Owing to the more restricted variety of desert vegetation, the Gambel 
Quail does not depend upon weed-seed to the same extent as its western 
kinsmen. Although it eats seed and grain and wild fruit of almost every 
available kind, two-thirds of its fare consists of browse, the tender leaves 
and shoots of various plants, especially mesquite; and, in winter, buds 
of mesquite and willow. Gardens are sampled on occasion, and some 
damage to fruit is registered by early settlers, who are apt to be a little 
over-sensitive as to their rights. Mistletoe berries are eagerly devoured 
by these birds, and for this fare the lowly quail will invade the tops of 
the highest mesquite trees. Here they meet the Shining Flycatcher 
(Phainopepla nitens), the petulant, the dandified, the imperious; though 
I never saw them yielding before the reproaches of this perturbed fop, 
nor yet of his more spiteful mate. 


No. 315 
Dusky Grouse 


No. 315a Sooty Grouse 


A. O. U. No. 297a. Dendragapus obscurus fuliginosus (Ridgway). 

Synonyms.—BLvuE GrousE. MounrTaiIn Grouse. Hooter. 

Description.—Adult male: General plumage sooty slate, color deepest, nearly 
or quite black, on upper back and in ring about throat, lighter, slaty, on breast and 
belly, feathers mottled with buffy and tawny on wings, back, and sides, with ashy 
(lightly) on rump and upper tail-coverts, and with large admixture of white on lower 
belly and under tail-coverts; throat heavily flecked with white; shoulder-patches of 


1589 


The Dusky Grouse 


pure white, more or less concealed; subterminal area of tail clear slaty-black; terminal 
band ashy gray, .30-.60 wide; comb over eye and concealed spot of naked skin on side 
of neck, the tympanum, orange-yellow. Bill black; feet with black soles. Adult 
female: Ground-color of male, everywhere, save on concealed webs of rectrices and 
quills and on middle of belly, more or less mottled by ochraceous, tawny, and warm 
browns (sudan brown to argus brown), the markings on back falling more or less into 
bars; often also lightly washed or skirted, especially on breast and upper tail-coverts, 
with ashy; some sector-shaped markings of white on wings, and plumage bordering 
slaty central area of belly extensively varied by white. Young birds are much like 
the female. Chicks are warm yellowish, clear or orange-banded below, above varied 
in irregular pattern by ochrey, tawny, and black. Adult male, length: 508-558.8 
(20.00-22.00), sometimes 609.6 (24.00); average of seven males: wing 232.4 (9.15); tail 
162.6 (6.40); bill 20.3 (.80). Female, length: 431.8-482.6 (17.00-19.00); wing 214.9 
(8.46); tail 130.8 (5.15); bill 19.3 (.76). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; dark slaty coloration; tail definitely tipped 
with white, as compared with black tail of D. 0. richardson. 

Nesting.— Nest: On ground, a slight hollow lined with a few twigs, grasses, 
and stray feathers, usually under protection of tree, bush-clump, or grass. Eggs: 
6 to 12, 16 of record; pale cream-buff or pinkish buff, sharply and sparingly freckled 
with reddish brown (cinnamon-brown to chestnut-brown). Av. size 52.3 x 34.5 (2.06 
x 1.36). Season: May-June, according to altitude; one brood. 

Range of Dendragapus obscurus.—Pacific Coast and Rocky Mountain districts 
from Alaska, southern Yukon, and southwestern Mackenzie south to Mt. Pinos (Cali- 
fornia), western New Mexico, and central Arizona. Resident wherever found. 

Range of D. o. fuliginosus—Humid coastal district from Sitka south to north- 
western California. 

Distribution in Californias—Common resident of the humid coastal strip, 
chiefly in the Douglas fir forests, east to Hayfork and Kuntz (Trinity County) and 
south to Seaview, Sonoma County (Grinnell). 

Authorities.—Sclater (Zetrao obscurus), Proc. Zool. Soc. London, 1858, p. 1, 
part (Trinity Mts.); Z. Kellogg, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, p. 119 (Hayfork, Trinity Co.); 
Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. II, 1915, p. 60 (status in Calif.). 


No. 315b Sierra Grouse 


A. O. U. No. 297c. Dendragapus obscurus sierrze Chapman. 


Description.—‘‘Differs from D. 0. fuliginosus in much paler coloration above, 
in the heavier vermiculation of the entire upper surface, practical absence of neck- 
tufts, whiter throat, and paler underparts.” 


Status.—If we may be allowed to substitute the word perceptibly for ‘‘much”’ 
in the foregoing description, this very ‘‘light’’ form will pass muster. The whiter 
throat is apparently the most constant character. 


Range of D. o. sierre (Almost wholly included within California) —Common 
resident in coniferous forests of the mountains from Mt. Shasta south along the inner 
coast ranges at least to Mt. Sanhedrin, and along the Sierras south to the Piute Moun- 
tains in Kern County, and on Mt. Pinos in Ventura County. Also found upon the 
Warner Mountains and the White Mountains (and so presumably into Nevada). 


1590 


AQUNOD OUOYA, UT Uaye J, 


4HOyIN PY ayy tq ydvibopoyg v wos 
9snode) BALTIC 94} Jo JUNV EY SuIpoa.ig V 
yooy YJOULUTe AY 


The Dusky Grouse 


Authorities.—Sclater (Tetrao obscurus), Proc. Zool. Soc. London, 1858, p. 1, 
part (Yosemite Valley); Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1892, p. 232 (food); Muir, Our National 
Parks, 1901, p. 216 (habits); Chapman, Bull. Amer. Mus. Nat. Hist., vol. xx., 1904, 
p. 159 (orig. desc.; type locality, Echo, El Dorado Co.). 


Taken in Eastern Washington Photo by W. H. Wright 
SOOTY GROUSE ON NEST 


ALTHOUGH RATED AS D. o. fuliginosus, THIS BORDERLINE SPECIMEN IS SCARCELY DISTINGUISHABLE IN A PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE 
CALIFORNIA BIRD, D. o. sierr@. 


THE “BLUE” Grouse, ‘“Wood Grouse,” or ‘‘Mountain’’ Grouse, in 
some one of its geographical races, is found throughout the heavily timbered 
areas of the West, ranging from sea-level to timberline, according to the 
degree of local humidity. It has a strong preference for fir (or spruce) 
timber, on account of the density of cover offered; and its range in Cali- 
fornia is determined chiefly, though not entirely, by this factor. And 
of all fir trees the Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga taxifolia), miscalled “Oregon 
Pine”’ by our local trade, is the prime favorite. In the sheltering branches 
of this tree the grouse takes refuge in time of danger; from its commanding 
elevation he most frequently sends forth the challenges of springtime; 
and in its somber depths he hides himself throughout the winter season. 

The Blue Grouse is by nature one of the most confiding of fowls. 
If it were not for the discipline of gun-fire, now three-quarters of a cen- 


T5QL 


The Dusky Grouse 


tury old, the bird would no more than step aside to watch the traveler 
pass, or at most flutter up to a low-lying branch the better to observe. 
There are few traces left, however, of this once confiding character. Save 
for its unconquerable propensity for hooting, the bird is shrewd enough 
to maintain itself in the very heart of dangerous country. To my knowl- 
edge a small company of Sooty Grouse survived in Ravenna Park, Seattle, 
till the year 1910, and they pastured on land worth at least $15,000 per 
acre. 

The Grouse’s year begins in March or April, according to altitude, 
at which season the males begin to hoot. This operation is conducted 
chiefly in the trees, but as the season advances and love-making becomes 
more earnest, the birds resort to the ground or choose stations on some 
prominent stump or bowlder. The bird, as a rule, is one of the most 
phlegmatic of fowls, and his courting antics, grotesque enough in them- 
selves, are conducted with a gravity which makes them even more absurd. 
Whatever the bird’s situation in hooting, the air-sacs of the throat, chest, 
and neck are first inflated. These auxiliary parts are capable of enor- 
mous dissension, insomuch that the total bulk of the sacs, together with 
their covering feathers, during excitement, exceeds that of the body itself. 
The hooting, or grunting, notes of this Grouse are among the lowest 
tones of Nature’s thoroughbase, being usually about C of the first octave, 
but ranging from E flat down to B flat of the contra octave. Hoot, hoot, 
hoot, tu-hoot, the legend runs, although there is a prefatory note of the 
same character which is inaudible at a distance; and the bird not in- 
frequently adds another at the end, after the slightest appreciable pause, 
as though he required a fraction of a second in which to recover from 
the effort of the double note. There is in the act of utterance a corre- 
sponding pulsation of the air-sacs, but these can serve only as a sounding 
board, for the noise is made in the syrinx, and may be passably imitated 
in that of a freshly killed specimen by placing the thumb and forefinger 
over the apertures, and blowing at the proper intervals through the 
entering windpipe. The sound may also be well reproduced by the 
human voice, and we have offended many a “‘hooter’’ ere now by chal- 
lenging in his preserves. 

As the hooter becomes vehement he struts like a turkey-cock, spread- 
ing the tail in fan-shape, dropping the wings till they scrape the ground, 
and inflating his throat to such an extent as to disclose a considerable 
space of bare orange-colored skin on either side of the neck. This last 
certainly makes a stunning feature of the gallant’s attire, for Nature 
has contrived that the feathers immediately surrounding the bald area 
should have white bases beneath their sooty tips. During excitement, 
then, as the concealing feathers are raised and reversed, a brilliant white 


T5902 


The Dusky Grouse 


circlet, some five inches in diameter, suddenly flares forth on each side 
of the neck, to the great admiration, no doubt, of the observant hen. 
These more emphatic demonstrations are probably reserved for 
such time as the hen is known to be close at hand, for I have never fright- 
ened a strutting cock without finding a female hard by, at least at no greater 
distance than the lower branches of a neighboring tree. She has re- 
sponded to the earlier calls of the male by a single musical toot note, 
uttered at intervals of approach; but once arrived at the trysting place 
she has become very shy, and will take no part in the celebration, save 
by a few tell-tale clucks and many coy evasions. On these occasions, 


also, the cock works himself up 
into such a transport that he 
becomes oblivious to danger, 
so that he may be narrowly ob- 
served or even captured by a 
sudden rush. 

The Wood Grouse are pos- 
sibly polygamous, but contests 
between the males are infre- 
quent, and there is no great 
disparity in numbers between 
the sexes, so that the male, 
oftener than otherwise, mates 
but once during a season. At 
least he is not known to carry 
on separate amours abreast. 
When the female has laid her 
complement of eggs, from five 
to nine, in a shallow, leaf-lined 
depression at the base of a tree, 
bush, or rock, the male joins 
himself to a small company of 
his widowed fellows, or else 
sulks out the season in ineffec- 
tual hooting. 

In choosing a nesting site 
the female is not at especial 
pains to find concealment, rely- 
ing rather upon the protective 
harmony of her surroundings,— 
how securely may be noted in 


Photo by F. S. Merrill 


A NEST IN THE PINE WOODS 
AS BEFORE, THE RACE DEPICTED Is D. o. fuliginosus 


L593 


Taken in Eastern Washington 


The Dusky Grouse 


the accompanying illustration, where the cover was of the slightest, yet 
perfectly in keeping. The bird even sits with half closed eyes, in order 


Taken in Washington Photo by Dawson and Bowles 
SOOTY GROUSE ON NEST 
AN EXAMPLE OF PROTECTIVE HARMONY 


that the glint of the eye, the “‘high light,’’ may not betray her presence. 
The creamy buff eggs, also, with their light brown spots and splashes, are 
comparatively inconspicuous when exposed. 

Grouse are close sitters, and will at times suffer even the touch of 
the hand before bursting off in agitated and noisy flight. I once pottered 
about for half an hour in the immediate vicinity of a sitting grouse whose 
presence was unsuspected. She let me pass within five feet of her without 
betraying her anxiety. She even allowed me to chop out a Chickadee’s 
nest ten feet up in a stub hard by, and that with gesticulations which must 
have tried the Dendragapine nerve most sorely. With fatuous unconcern 
I sat down near her upon the ground and spent torturing minutes packing 
eggs and writing notes. This she endured, but when I sprang suddenly 
to my feet, her nerves gave out, and she quitted the field in disgust. 


L594 


The Dusky Grouse 


There was a teeming ant hill within five feet of the nest, but whether this 
bothered the bird as much as it did me, I cannot say. 

Chicks are brought off after a three weeks’ vigil, and the mother leads 
her brood about until they are fully grown. When surprised a month 
later, as at a dustbath, of which they are exceedingly fond, the bantlings 
rise to the nearest trees and secrete themselves, while the mother makes 
herself conspicuous in effort to distract attention. Or, if somewhat dis- 
ciplined by hunting, the covey makes off through the air by twos and 
threes, endeavoring always to keep the same direction, that they may 
speedily reassemble when out of harm’s way. 

Grouse feed much at the lower levels, and even venture into the open 
in late summer and early autumn. The babies are fed along willow bot- 
toms and in the vicinity of streams which will guarantee a supply of needed 
insect food. Berries come next in line, and only gradually are the young- 
sters inducted into the grim prosaics of fir buds and other bitter browse, 
to which they must become inured by wintertime. As the season advances 
the cocks work their way up to timberline; and they are followed in due 
season by the females and the half-grown broods. When the berries are 
exhausted, the grouse drop down to lower levels again; and at the first 
touch of bad weather they take to the depths of the trees, where they must 
subsist for some months upon an exclusive diet of fir needles. 


Sooty Grouse lie well to a dog, but unless previously filled with the 
fear of man, they are likely to make tame targets, as they rise heavily 
into the nearest tree, and tamer yet as they sit and look down inquiringly 
at the hunter. The young of the year, in particular, are very foolish, 
allowing themselves to be pelted repeatedly with stones until finally 
struck and killed. This trick has earned for them, in common with other 
northern species, the name “‘fool hen.’’ A northern observer claims that 
Sooty Grouse will hiss like a gander, especially when treed by a dog. The 
bird will thrust out its neck and peer down defiantly, hissing and squirming 
in anger over its interrupted meal. 

Under repeated fire, the Wood Grouse learns not only to make away 
with great celerity, flying down hill if possible, with stiff-set wings, but 
also to hide quickly in a tree-top, squatting and freezing so perfectly 
that it requires a practiced eye to detect it. The Indians of the Pacific 
Coast used to be very skillful on the still-hunt, especially in winter, when 
even at the lower levels the birds appear to enter a semi-lethargic state. 


The flesh of the Blue Grouse, although much darker than that of the 
Ruffed Grouse, affords excellent eating in the proper season. The bird 
attains a goodly size, three, four, or even five pounds, in the case of a 


L595 


The Oregon Ruffed Grouse 


cock; and there is no reason to suppose that the supply will not last in- 
definitely, if campers and hunters will observe the excellent laws at present 
in force. 


No. 316 


Oregon Ruffed Grouse 


A. O. U. No. 300c. Bonasa umbellus sabini (Douglas). 
Synonyms.—'‘‘PHEASANT.’’ BuUsH PHEASANT. ‘‘PARTRIDGE.’’ RUFFED GROUSE. 


DRUMMER. RED-TAIL. 

Description.—Adult male: Neck-tufts of lengthened feathers glossy black; 
above rich rusty brown (Sanford’s brown to auburn), varied in endless pattern by 
black and ochraceous markings and ashy skirtings; tail normally color of back, but 
sometimes more extensively ashy or ochraceous gray, crossed by six or seven narrow 
bands and one broad subterminal band of black, shadowed by ochraceous (or gray); 
throat warm buff, nearly immaculate; remaining underparts mixed white and buff, 
heavily barred with tawny or warm brown, each bar bordered narrowly with dusky, 
the brown or dusky prevailing on chest; marks on flanks entirely dark brown or blackish. 
Bill brownish above, yellow below; feet brownish; the toes heavily pectinated on both 
edges. Adult female: Similar to male, but smaller, and neck-tufts much reduced in 
size. Immature birds lack the neck-tufts. Chicks are dull sulphur-yellow below, and 
auburn, almost immaculate, above; a strong stripe of blackish on side of head and 
neck from eye—curiously forecasting the distinctive black neck-ruff of adult. Length: 
406.4-457.2 (16.00-18.00); av. of 3 adult males from Siskiyou County: wing 193.04 
(7.60); tail 145 (5.71); bill 15 (.59); females smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Little hawk to crow size; neck-ruffs and highly variegated 
rusty brown coloration unmistakable; drumming notes of male. 

Nesting.— Nest: A slight depression at base of tree or bush-clump in low woods, 
sparingly lined with twigs and dead leaves. Eggs: 8-14; creamy white or pinkish 
buff, unmarked or sparingly speckled with reddish brown or brownish drab. (Eggs of 
B. u. sabini average ruddier in coloration than those of other forms of the Ruffed 
Grouse). Av. size 41.2 x 30.8 (1.62 x 1.21). Season: May; one brood. 

Range of Bonasa umbellus—Wooded districts of the United States and Canada 
from Norton Sound, Alaska, and central Yukon, central Keewatin, southern Ungava, 
and Nova Scotia, south to northern California, Colorado, northern Arkansas, and 
Virginia; and in the Alleghany Mountains to Georgia. 

Range of B. wu. sabini.—Pacific Coast district from southern Alaska to north- 
western California. 

Distribution in California.—Resident locally on valley floors of the extreme 
northwestern humid district south to Humboldt Bay and east to the Siskiyou Moun- 
tains. 

Authorities.—Douglas (Tetrao sabini), Trans. Linn. Soc. London, vol. xvi., 
1829, p. 137 (orig. desc.; n. w. America, from Cape Mendocino to Vancouver Id.); 
Townsend, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 491 (Humboldt Bay); Anderson and Grinnell, Proc. 
Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1903, p. 6 (Siskiyou Mts.). 


1500 


The Oregon Ruffed Grouse 


AGAIN IT IS that little touch of “Humid Transition” afforded by 
Del Norte and Humboldt counties (with adjacent areas in Siskiyou and 
Trinity) which links us up with the great Northland; and, in this case, 
with the north central portion of the entire continent. Ours is the western- 
most and most ‘‘saturated”’ race of the four or five stretching from Cape 
Cod to Cape Flattery and south to Humboldt Bay. Perhaps the most 
exquisite product of our somber western woods is this ““Oregon’”’ Ruffed 
Grouse with his plumage of warm browns and woodsy buffs, relieved by 
touches of white, and set off by the glossy black of neck ornaments, or 
ruffs. Nature has painted her favorite to match the moldering logs 
of red fir, cross-hatched as they are by the infinite traceries of the under- 
forest. When he steps forth at the sound of your footstep into some 
woodland path, alert yet curious, with ruffs half-raised and tail partly 
opened, you feel as if the very beauty of nature had found concrete ex- 
pression, and that the vision would fade again if you breathed too heavily. 

If not pressed, the bird will presently hop up on some fallen log, the 
better to see and be seen; or else trip away, satisfied, into some mossy 
covert. Or it may take suddenly to wing, with a roar which you feel to 
be quite needless, especially when exaggerated by a series of grunts which 
must be partly derisive. 

From the point of view of the sportsman, this bird is not to be com- 
pared with the Ruffed Grouse of the eastern states. Its cover is too 
abundant, and it does not take the discipline which has educated the wily 
““partridge.’”’ It seldom allows the dog to come to a correct point, usually 
flushing into the nearest small tree, where it sits peeping and perking like 
an overgrown chicken, regarding now the dog and now the hunter. Pot- 
shooting the birds under these circumstances can hardly be called sport, 
but their fondness for dense thickets often makes it the only way in which 
they can be obtained. 

In the latter part of February the mating season commences, and 
from that time until well into May the rolling drum-call of the cocks 
may be heard at any hour of the day and sometimes far into the night. 
Every cock has some particular fallen tree which he has chosen for his 
private drumming ground, and he very rarely resorts to another situa- 
tion. A favorite log becomes worn in the course of a season, so that an 
experienced hunter may locate the trysting place in its owner’s absence. 

The motive of this singular performance is, of course, primarily 
sexual. It is the wooing call, such as every male grouse indulges in one 
fashion or another; but there seems to be in this, also, a more poetic 
element. Its exhibition is not confined to springtime, but the desire 
seizes the bird at intervals throughout the year, and especially in the fall. 
The grouse drums for the same reason that other birds sing, simply to 
express his joy of life. 1507 


The Oregon Ruffed Grouse 


In executing this manoeuver the bird stands to its full height and 
beats its wings swiftly downward toward its sides, in this manner ren- 
dering sounds which closely resemble the syllables bump - bump - bump, 
bumperrrrrr. The wing-beats commence slowly but end in a rapid whirr, 

which not even the most speedy 
lens may exactly define. The 
sound carries to the distance of 
half a mile or more, but so subtle, 
or profound, is its character, that 
the ear can scarcely distinguish as 
between twenty yards and fifty. 
It is only a lucky chance 
which discovers the female near 
the drumming log, although this 
is the appointed meeting place. On 
the occasion of her near presence 
male occupies the intervals of 
drumming by strutting up 
and down with extended 
plumage, and tail held tur- 
key-wise. We cannot blame 
the admiration of the female, 
and no one begrudges a mor- 
tal the right to strut a little 
before one. 

Itisa moot point 
whether Robin Goodfellow 
is as faithful as he ought 
to be. The fact seems to be, 
however, that behavior varies 
greatly with individuals. Or- 
dinarily the bird appears to 
mate but once in a season. 
During the period of incuba- 
tion, the hen is left pretty 
much to her own devices, 
but even then the cock is not 


Taken near Tacoma Photo by the Author 


NEST AND EGGS OF OREGON RUFFED GROUSE unlikely to be somewhere in 
ee a eat the vicinity. When the chicks 


are out, it is the mother who has the care and training of them, but in- 
stances are on record where the male has appeared upon the scene in 
time of danger to make gallant defense of his offspring. 


1598 


The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse 


At the foot of a maple in some swampy thicket, or close beside a 
fallen log, the female scrapes a slight depression in the earth, lining it 
roughly with dead leaves and a few small twigs. In this she places eight 
or ten eggs, buff or faintly ruddy, sparingly spotted with pale brownish 
or buffy red. As she leaves the nest, she does so a-wing, causing the sur- 
rounding leaves to flutter carelessly over her eggs. If the eggs are mo- 
lested, she will either desert outright or else break up the polluted clutch. 
If, however, she only suspects that her secret may be known, she is at 
great pains to cover up her treasures with leaves and trash each time she 
quits them. 

A noisy surprise is in store for the person who comes upon a mother 
partridge with a brood of tender chicks. With a great outcry the mother 
bird charges up in front of the intruder, or dashes into his face; then 
stands before him with flashing eyes and ruffled feathers, looking fierce 
enough to eat him up. Thus she holds the enemy at bay for one bewilder- 
ing moment,—a precious moment, in which her tiny darlings are finding 
shelter. Then she collapses like a struck tent and vanishes in a trice. 
A diligent search may discover a chick under a fallen leaf, or between two 
pieces of bark, but no living man can find an entire brood in this way. 

At such times, also, the female, in concealment, utters a whining 
sound or adds to it a vocal undertone, dzut dzut dzut dzut, which is not 
unlike the chittering of a chipmunk or a chickadee. The youngsters 
peep lustily, once the ban of silence has been removed, and if the bird- 
watcher lingers quietly, he may hear the motherly clucking which re- 
assembles the brood. 

The food of the Ruffed Grouse is, of course, chiefly vegetable. Ber- 
ries of all kinds are freely eaten in season; at other times buds and “‘browse”’ 
form the staple diet,—huckleberry leaves, fern leaves, wild clover, and 
the like. This grouse loves to frequent the little bottoms where deciduous 
trees cover the stream-beds, and here in the fall of the year the birds may 
scratch among the fallen leaves, and experience some of those autumnal 
thrills which, in the sterner East, have given brown October and the 
“partridge”’ an imperishable identity. 


No. 317 


Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse 


A. O. U. No. 308a. Pedicecetes phasianellus columbianus (Ord). 

Synonyms.—ComMon SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. PIN-TAILED GROUSE. ‘‘PRAIRIE 
CHICKEN.” 

Description.—Adults: Above chiefly buffy gray or pale brownish finely varied 
by irregular spots and bars of brownish black and lighter brownish; wing-coverts with 


L599 


The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse 


rounded spots of white; wing-quills fuscous, spotted on the outer webs with whitish 
or tawny; the secondaries tipped with white and irregularly barred with white, the 
inner ones changing to pattern of back; tail graduated, the two central pairs of feathers 
much like back, the remainder mottled on outer webs, white or grayish white on inner; 
below whitish as to base, or tinged with buffy anteriorly, the throat warm buff, usually 
immaculate, the remaining feathers usually with U- or V-shaped markings of dark 
brown, heaviest and sharpest on breast, least or none on belly; axillars and wing- 
linings pure white; legs grayish white. Iris light brown; bill chiefly dark horn-color; 
toes heavily pectinated, light horn-color above, darker below. Young birds are brown- 
er above, with sharp white shaft-lines, and whiter below with dark brown spots on 
breast, changing to streaks on sides. Length of adult: 457.2-508 (18.00-20.00); wing 
228.6-254 (9.00-10.00); middle pair of tail-feathers 101.6-152.4 (4.00-6.00); shortest 
lateral tail-feathers 38.1 (1.50); tarsus 50.8 (2.00); bill 16.5 (.65). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; mottled grayish plumage; chiefly terrestrial 
habits; completely feathered tarsus; graduated tail. 

Nesting.— Nest: A grass-lined depression under shelter of sage-bush, grass- 
clump, ete. Eggs: 10 to 15; olive-buff or dull cream-buff, unmarked, or finely dotted 
with brown. Av. size 43.2 x 31.5 (1.70 x 1.24). Season: c. May Ist; one brood. 

Range of Pediwcetes phasianellus—Central northern and west central North 
America from central Alaska and northwestern British Columbia east to central west- 
ern Ungava and the Parry Sound district of Ontario south to northeastern California, 
central Colorado, Kansas, and Illinois. 

Range of P. p. columbianus.—Central British Columbia and central Alberta 
south to northeastern California (formerly), Utah, and western Colorado. 

Occurrence in California.—Formerly abundant in the Modoc region,—now 
extirpated by gun-fire. 

Authorities.—Newberry (Tetrao phasianellus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p- 94 (50 mi. n. e. Ft. Reading; Pit River); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, 
p. 407 (syn., desc., nomencl., habits, etc.); Henshaw, Rep. Orn. Wheeler Surv., 1879, 
p. 317 (Camp Bidwell, Modoc Co.); Bendire, Life Hist. N. Am. Birds, vol. i., 1892, 
p. 99 (habits, nest and eggs, etc.). 


A REMEMBRANCE and a sigh—that is the present day history 
of the ‘‘chickens’’ which our fathers knew—and incontinently potted. 
They were a hardy and a wasteful breed, the pioneers, unskilled in the 
economics of an older civilization. The western star of empire spoke 
to them only of conquest. Life was a golden to-day, unshadowed by 
a leaden to-morrow. Now to-morrow has come, and for many a glorious 
species, bird or beast, the sun has set. It zs “‘to-morrow’’—on the banks 
of the Styx. 

The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse had all the marks of a fine game- 
bird. It lay well to a dog, and moved off at a pace which was a fair test of 
marksmanship. It was both hardy in habit and adaptable in the matter 
of food. Moreover, its flesh was excellent eating, juicy and tender, and in 
the best of condition just when the frosts were beginning to nip. An early 


1600 


The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse 


recognition of the danger which threatened the species, and a rigid policy 
of protection for a term of years would have preserved for us, at least in 
the northeastern counties of the State, a valuable economic asset, as well 
as a most interesting native species. But the day of opportunity has 
gone by. Both observance of law and economic wisdom are products of 
orderly civilization, and this wild thing succumbed while every man did 
that which was right (or wrong) in his own eyes. Diligent inquiry on 
the part of the authors of “The Game Birds of California’’ failed to 
discover any contemporary records, and in all probability this bird, 
although still found further north, has vanished as a bird of California. 

The economy and general appearance of the Sharp-tailed Grouse is 
much that of the Prairie Hen (Tympanuchus americanus), or “‘chicken,”’ 
of the East, after which it was promptly named by the early settlers. 
In the early days it was partially migratory in habit, spreading out upon 
the sage-brush stretches and rye-grass plains in spring and summer, but 
resorting to the aspen groves and timbered draws in winter. As soon, 
however, as cultivation assured support in winter, the birds began to 
maintain their place in the open wheat-fields, or visited the haystacks and 
the farmyards. Though chiefly terrestrial in habit, at the advent of 
cold weather these Grouse alight freely in trees and bushes, browsing 
upon the tender shoots or gleaning unfallen fruit, being especially partial 
to the rose-hips. In the famed ““Yakima County,” of Washington, which 
is faunistically comparable with much in our Modoc-Lassen region, 
the Sharp-tail was a commonplace thirty or forty years ago. It was no 
unusual thing in my boyhood to see a flock of these Grouse walking and 
fluttering about the barn or some of the out-buildings, nor even to be 
aroused at early morning by the patter and scratch of pectinated feet upon 
the house-top. Of course this was the prompt signal for resurrecting 
the old musket,—so gracious is human hospitality! 

Sharp-tailed Grouse have several cackling and calling notes, none 
more characteristic than the rattling, grunting cry with which they take 
towing. When getting under way the body is rocked violently, as though 
by alternating wing-strokes. A series of such flaps is followed, if the way 
is clear, by a long sail on stiffened wings; and so powerful is the bird in 
flight that it will not infrequently distance a hawk or an unsophisticated 
owl. I have seen a Marsh Hawk dash repeatedly into a passing flock of 
Grouse, but never saw him catch one. 

These Grouse are doubtfully monogamous, but their nesting is pre- 
pared for by an elaborate social function, which is thus described by Mr. 
Ernest E. Thompson:! ‘‘After the disappearance of snow and the coming 
of warmer weather, the chickens meet every morning at gray dawn in 


1Speaking of a closely allied form, P. p. campestris—The Birds of Manitoba, Proc. U. S. Nat’l Museum, Vol. 
XIII. (1890), p. 519. 


TOOL 


The Sage-Hen 


companies of from six to twenty on some selected hillock or knoll and 
indulge in what is called ‘the dance.’ This performance I have often 
watched. At first, the birds may be seen standing about in ordinary 
attitudes, when suddenly one of them lowers its head, spreads out its 
wings nearly horizontally and its tail perpendicularly, distends its air 
sacs and erects its feathers, then rushes across the ‘floor,’ taking the 
shortest of steps, but stamping its feet so hard and rapidly that the 
sound is like that of a kettle drum; at the same time it utters a sort of 
bubbling crow, which seems to come from the air sacs, beats the air with 
its wings, and vibrates its tail so that it produces a low, rustling noise, 
and thus contrives at once to make as extraordinary a spectacle of itself 
and as much noise as possible. 

“As soon as one commences all join in, rattling, stamping, drumming, 
crowing, and dancing together furiously; louder and louder the noise, 
faster and faster the dance becomes, until at last, as they madly whirl 
about, the birds are leaping over each other in their excitement. After 
a brief spell the energy of the dancers begins to abate, and shortly after- 
ward they cease or stand and move about very quietly, until they are 
again started by one of their number ‘leading off.’ 

“The space occupied by the dancers is from 50 to 100 feet across, and 
as it is returned to year after year, the grass is usually worn off and the 
ground trampled down hard and smooth. The whole performance re- 
minds one so strongly of a Cree dance as to suggest the possibility of its 
being the prototype of the Indian exercises.” 


Sage Grouse 


A. O. U. No. 309. Centrocercus urophasianus (Bonaparte). 

Synonyms.—SacGE Cock. SAGE HEN. COCK-OF-THE-PLAINS. 

Description.— Adult male: Above mingled buffy and grayish, varied irregularly 
with black; many of the wing-feathers with central white streaks, the tertials bordered 
terminally with white; wing-quills grayish brown, sometimes mottled on outer webs 
with paler, chin and throat broadly mingled black and white, defined laterally by 
crescentic area of white; lower throat black, the feathers bordered more or less with 
grayish white; chest gray; belly black surrounded by white; lower tail-coverts black, 
broadly tipped with white; lining of wings white; tail-feathers, narrowly tapering, 
dusky as to ground, but finely mottled above and below. Bill black; feet blackish. 
“To describe the peculiar neck-feathering of the old cock more particularly: On each 
side is a patch of feathers, meeting in front, with extremely stiff bases, prolonged into 
hair-like filaments about 3.00 in length; with the wearing away of these feathers in the 
peculiar actions of the bird in pairing-time, their hard horny bases are left, forming 
‘fish-scales.’. In front of these peculiar feathers is the naked tympanum, capable of 


1602 


The Sage-Hen 


enormous inflation under amatory excitement. Above them is a tuft of down-feathers, 
covered with a set of long soft filamentous plumes corresponding to the ruff of Bonasa. 
Many breast-feathers resemble the scaly ones of the neck, and are commonly found 
worn to a bristly ‘thread-bare’ state. Scaly bases of these feathers soiled white; 
thready ends blackish; fluffy feathers snowy-white, like wool, the longer overlying 
filamentous plumes glossy black’’ (Coues). Adult female: Similar to male, but 
much smaller and without black of chin and throat; feathers of neck not strikingly 
peculiar. Length of cock 609.6-762 (24.00-30.00); wing 304.8 (12.00); tail 279.4- 
355-6 (11.00-14.00); weight 4 to 8 pounds. Adult hen: length 533.4-584.2 (21.00- 
23.00); wing 254-279.4 (10.00-11.00); tail 177.8-228.6 (7.00-9.00) ; weight 3 to 5 pounds. 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; largest of American grouse; sage-haunting 
habits. 

Nesting.— Nest: A scantily-lined depression in ground under sage-bush. Eggs: 
6 to 15, usually 8 or 9; olive-buff to deep olive-buff, dotted and spotted with dark 
brown. The marking is of different degrees of intensity, is well distributed, and 
varies in size from a pin-head to a pea, tending to circular forms. Av. size 54.6 x 38.1 
(2.15 x 1.50). Season: April-May; one brood. 

General Range.—Sage-brush plains of western North America from south 
central British Columbia, southern Saskatchewan, and northwestern North Dakota, 
south to central eastern California, northwestern New Mexico, and northwestern 
Nebraska. Resident throughout its range. j 

Distribution in California.—Resident in the northeastern plateau district 
east of the Sierras from eastern Siskiyou County east to eastern Modoc County and 
south to northern Inyo County. Formerly abundant; now greatly reduced in numbers 
and locally wanting. 

Authorities.—Douglas (Tetrao urophasianus), Trans. Linn. Soc. London, vol. 
XVi., 1829, p. 133 (interior of north California); Newberry, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. 
vi., 1857, p. 95 (habits); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 400 (syn., desc., habits, 
etc.); Judd, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 24, 1905, p. 23 (food). 


AS BAM- 
boo to the Ori- 
ental, or as the 
cocoanut palm 
to the South 
Sea Islander, 
so is the sage- 
bush to this 
Cock of the 
Plains. It not 
only provides 
him shelter of 
asort, but food 
and _ probably 
drink as well. 
At least, from 


Viale 


Taken in Oregon Photo by Finley 


HIS GALLANTRY, THE SAGE COCK 


1003 


ALL FOR THE LADIES! 


THESE THREE POSES ARE FROM 
MEMBERS OF A 
MOTION PICTURE FILM. 
NOTE RAPIDITY OF 
CHANGE 


CONTIGUOUS 


Taken in Oregon 
Photo by William L. Finley 


The Sage-Hen 


the fact that the Sage Cock is found at such distances from water, we are 
forced to conclude that the dew-covered browse of the Artemisia must 
often serve the bird in lieu of water. As to food, this Grouse has so long 
depended upon the leaves and tender shoots of the sage-brush and grease- 
wood for subsistence, that it is incapable of digesting grain when it is 
offered. The bird’s gizzard, unlike that of other grouse, is not a strong, 
muscular grinding-organ, but a membranous sac capable of great dis- 
tension, but unequal to the task of reducing seeds, grains, or even hard- 
shelled beetles. The bird’s spring diet is varied by many kinds of tender 
herbage, and in summer it consumes quantities of crickets, grasshoppers 
and other insects, but sage is eaten at all seasons and forms its exclusive 
ration in winter. 

In spite of this monotonous and bit- 
ter fare the flesh of the adult Sage Grouse 
is far from unpalatable, especially if 
speedily prepared; while birds of the year 
in the fall are as wholesome as those of 
any other species. In fact, much that 
has been written about ‘“‘fishy’’ ducks 
and “‘sagey’’ grouse has been derived 
from specimens left about 
undrawn until the charac- 
teristic flavors of the intes- 
tinal contents have 
permeated the flesh,—ob- 
viously, an unfair test in 
case of a pronounced diet 
either of clams or worm- 
wood. 

Sage Grouse move 
about in 
coveys, 
fay amsitel: sy; 
groups, in 
which the 
mother re- 
mains a cen- 
tral figure, 
until late 
autumn. 
At that sea- 
son several 


1004 


The Sage-Hen 


coveys may unite 
tOMlOrm~pane: packsus 
and the male birds 
are allowed to re- 
join the company. 
Stories are told of 
bands numbering 
up to a thousand, 
but small flocks are 
the rule. These 
Grouse, like all oth- 
ers in America, with 
the partial excep- 
tion of the Pinna- 
ted, are non-migra- 
tory; but they are 
mildly nomadic in 
their habits, mov- 
ing about in the 
flocking season 
from one portion of ESE 
their local range to Taken in Oregon 
another. 

Although far larger—males weigh five or six pounds, and eight- 
pound birds are of record—the Sage Grouse resembles the Sharp-tail in 
many ways. Like the latter it will crouch low upon the ground, or, 
especially if the passerby be on horseback or in a wagon, will “‘freeze”’ 
beside a sage-bush in hopes of escaping detection. When put to flight, 
it has the same harsh rattle or cackle, increased in proportion to its size. 
It rises heavily with violent exertion of alternating wing-strokes, and 
after each repetition of such efforts, rests, in long stiff sails. The birds 
lie well to a dog, or not, according to circumstances, and a flock is seldom 
found lying as close together as is the case with Sharp-tailed Grouse. 

In the courting antics of this valiant son of the desert, Nature has 
indulged a fresh fancy. Indeed, it is to be suspected that the Dame takes 
a special delight in making some of the most staid and prosaic of her 
male progeny appear in a ridiculous light, when under the influence of 
the tender passion. This grizzled veteran of the wormwood does not 
express his sentiment with either dignity or grace. No; he first inflates 
the air-sacs which line his neck until they assume alarming proportions, 
meeting in front and frequently engulfing his head; the tail with its spiny 
feathers is spread to the utmost and pointed skyward; then the gallant 


SECM a re BE = 
Photo-by Finley and Bohlman 
PORTRAIT OF SAGE GROUSE 


T6005 


The Sage-Hen 


pitches forward and 
casts off for a belly- 
buster slide over the 
ground, not without 
much assistance of 
propulsive feet in ap- 
proved “kid” fash- 
ion. As a result of 
this ridiculous dry- 
land swim, thie 
feathers of the breast 
are worn off at the 
tips till only the 
quills protrude. 
These ragged quill- 
ends, in. being forced 
over the earth, pro- 
duce a mild roar 
which passes for an 
aria by Caruso with 
the gray lady in the 
sage-box. La! but 
itisabsurd! Do you 
suppose — now do 
you suppose we ever 
make such fools of 
ourselves? 

In nesting, the 
female hides from 
the cock, as is the 
case with most of 
the grouse. A slight 
depression in the 
ground, barely or not 


Taken in uregon Photo by William L. Finley 
FULL DRESS 
THE SAGE GROUSE IS WELL NAMED Centrocercus, ‘‘SPIKE-TAIL”’ 


at all lined with twigs and sage-leaves, serves for a cradle, with a sage- 
bush for a canopy. The eggs are heavily colored, greenish gray or green- 
ish drab as to ground, with sharp dots and rounded spots of reddish brown 
or chocolate. Eight to fifteen is the number laid, but the smaller denom- 
ination represents the average size of fall flocks after the coyotes have 


taken toll. 


Sage is a thing accursed in the eyes of all thrifty farmer folk, and he 


7606 


whose ambition it is 
to cause two blades 
of grass to grow 
where none grew be- 
fore, must needs 
abolish the worm- 
wood. With it goes 
the Sage Grouse, af- 
ter the turkey, 
the largest and most 
irreclaimable of the 
American Tet- 
raonide. 

There are still 
Sage Grouse in Cal- 
ifornia. How long 
they will remain does 
not depend so much 
upon the observance 
of our fairly decent 
game laws, as upon 
the esthetic attitude 
of that portion of 
our population which 
is in contact with the 
wilderness. If it is 
deemed a sine qua 
non of human hap- 
piness to arrange an 
annual slaughter of 
these lumbering 
fowls, they will sure- 
ly disappear, even 
though the “‘bag lim- 
it’’ be reduced to one 
per season. But if 
our people can be 


The Sage-Hen 


Taken in Oregon Photo by William L. Finley 


A DESERT ROSE 
REAR VIEW OF SAGE COCK AT MAXIMUM STAGE OF COURTING DISPLAY 


brought to see that the glory of the wilderness—that little portion of it 
still remaining to us—lies in the presence and abundance and happiness 
of its wild things—not in their destruction—then generations to come may 
make unceasing pilgrimages to their desert shrines, and they will find 
these quaint, ungainly, and most diverting fowls in the full enjoyment of 


their ancient tenure. 


It’s up to us. 


1007 


The Prairie Falcon 


Taken in Idaho Photo by H. J. Rust 
NEST AND EGGS OF SAGE GROUSE: A DESERTED NEST 


No. 319 


Prairie Falcon 


A. O. U. No. 355. Falco mexicanus Schlegel. 
Synonyms.—MEeExIcan FaLtcon. AMERICAN LANNER FALCON. 


Description.—Adults: Upperparts ruddy grayish brown (nearly bister), the 
feathers usually more or less tinged with rusty and chiefly bordered with pale clay-color, 
or bluish gray—the general effect in high plumage being of a ruddy brown overspread 
with ruddy glaucous reticulations; crown and upper back more blended, crown sharply 
and heavily streaked with dusky shaft-lines, back and wings more lightly and sparingly 
dusky-shaft-streaked; primaries darker brown, nearly uniform on exposed portions of 
folded wing, but sharply and deeply indented or spotted on inner webs with white and 
ochraceous; tail much paler brown on exposed portion, but similarly ochraceous- 
whitish dented on inner webs; face narrowly (region about base of bill) white, flanked 
by narrow ruddy black mustachios which proceed sharply downward from before eye; 
cheeks white; auriculars like back; an obscure whitish line across occiput continuous 
with equally obscure superciliaries, and another disconnected line across cervix; axillars 
plain brown, the proximal portion of wing-lining brown centrally with white edging; 


1608 


PLEIN NT AEE PONE DE 


NEST AND EG( Prairie Faleon, pesexrep Nest 


Adult male and junyenal mal 


LL AMD 


, about % life size 


No. 319% 
Prairie Paicon 


No ta. Paice mrexicanua soniye 


LELKEN SME 


lhedered wet 


by. Warros coeds Wise cote h proceed sharpiy downy: 
cheeks whise : Aes an obscure whitish } 
with equally ciskoure mise eciivnes. acl another disconnec 
plain brown, the prexiies: 


7 7608 


ved Jiae ace 


Sy eR NS 
by bale < 
jay bizain ove 


A 
ded 


peearat hauaueas 
i . ea beret spotted pee URWet 
i. Ox parthan, Git santa 
baie wey we ‘ioe aserowty {region abaut 4 


wing-lining brown centrally we 


Photo by H. J. Rust 


. phe 
ay-color, 

rspread ~ 
rowan sharply 
and sparingly 


tS 


exposed portions of 
“ehs with white and 


ty ochracecus- 


white, flanked 


ram before: eye; 


d0rtiss G&cipit ventinuevs 


axitlars 


howhiee edsuig; 


The Prairie Falcon 


remaining wing-lining white with a few touches of brown; underparts pale buffy white, 
immaculate on throat, elsewhere marked with brownish gray of same shade as back, 
narrowly and distinctly on breast, broadly on sides and flanks, where falling into bars, 
sparsely on crissum, coalescing in maxillary region into broad mustache. Bill dark 
bluish, changing to yellow at base and on much of lower mandible; cere and feet yellow; 
iris brown. Young birds are darker, above, with feathers distinctly margined with 
light rusty, and their underparts are tinged with pale buffy and more broadly streaked 
—the younger the bird the richer the coloration. Downy young: Pure white. Length 
of adult male: 406.4-457.2 (16.00-18.00); wing 292.1-317.5 (11.50-12.50); tail 165.1- 
190.5 (6.50-7.50); culmen 19.1 (.75); tarsus 50.8 (2.00). Adult female, length: 469.9- 
508 (18.50-20.00); wing 336.6-362 (13.25-14.25); tail 203.2-228.6 (8.00-9.00); culmen 
22.1 (.87); tarsus 57.2 (2.25). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; powerful, easy flight; light brownish gray 
coloration, with size, distinguishes it from any related local species, especially the 
darker Peregrine (in comparing these two species note especially the white cheeks of 
mexicanus); varied screaming cries. 

Nesting.— Nest: None; eggs laid on floor of ledge or in cranny or tiny cave of 
cliff, and this sometimes marked by old nest of Raven. Eggs: 4 or 5; rounded ovate; 
basally, and theoretically, white, blotched with russet and vinaceous gray. This is a 
rare type. More commonly entire egg more or less suffused with a pale shade of the 
pigment, against which deeper shades are more or less clearly outlined as specks, spots, 
blotches, and clouds, or else overspread as superwashes. Hence, egg yellowish brown, 
cinnamon-buff, cinnamon, sayal brown, mikado brown, pinkish white, light grayish 
vinaceous or hazel, marked or clouded with darker shades, snuff-brown, hazel, and 
liver-brown. Ay. of 73 specimens from San Luis Obispo County in the Museum of 
Comparative Oology 50.4 x 39.4 (1.99 x 1.55); index 78. Season: April; one brood. 

General Range.—Southern portion of western Canadian Provinces east to 
eastern border of Great Plains, south through Lower California and Mexico, breeding 
chiefly in Sonoran and Lower Transition zones. 

Distribution in California.—Resident in semi-arid Sonoran zones both east 
and west of the Sierra Nevada. Not found in the humid coastal strip, and only casually 
above Transition in the Sierras. Especially abundant along the inner coast ranges 
fronting the great interior valley. 

Authorities.—Cassin (Falco polyagrus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. vi., 
1853, p. 450 (‘‘California’); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 104 (food); 
Cohen, Condor, vol. v., 1903, p. 117 (Mt. Diablo, nesting); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, 
no. 7, 1912, p. 48 (occurrence in s. Calif.); Dawson, Condor, vol. xv., 1913, p. 55, figs. 
(nesting habits in San Luis Obispo Co.). 


THE ‘problem of evil’ has always bothered the theologian, and he is 
bound to wrestle with it, because inconsistency is intolerable in religious 
thinking.!. But the bird-lover cannot be consistent. Within his little 
province he cannot “love good and hate evil,’”’ for to do so were to lose 
that joy in variety which is his endless delight. Nature herself is in- 
consistent—fearfully so. Indeed, it is she who has set theology’s prob- 
lem. And if there be a “higher unity” or “‘religious synthesis’ (and I 


1The basis of this article appeared in“ The Condor,” Vol. XV., March-April 1913. Reproduced by courtesy 


1009 


The Prairie Falcon 


believe there is) we as nature students have naught to do with it. If we 
are to find satisfaction in things as they are, if we are to enjoy nature, 
external nature, we must surrender ourselves to admiration of beak and 
talon no less than of wing and song. We may champion the cause of 
our specialty—Birds—against the world, if you like, and death to cat, 
weasel, and serpent; but you cannot adjudicate as between magpie and 
chick, hawk and sparrow, raptor and raptee. Or if you do, you will 
only make yourself miserable,—and wherefore? 

All of which is artful preface to a declaration of love for that arch 
scamp and winged terror, the Prairie Falcon (Falco mexicanus). Ruthless 
he is, and cruel as death; but ah, isn’t he superb! To recall his image is 
to obtain release from imprisoning walls, glad exit from formal gardens 
and the chirping of sparrows. To recall his scream is to set foot on the 
instant upon the bastion of some fortress of the wilderness. Away with 
your orange-bowered bungalows! Give me a sun-burned battlement in 
the hills of San Luis Obispo County. A plague on your dickey birds! 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
CATTLE COUNTRY 


Let me dare the displeasure of the noble falcon as he falls like a bolt 
from the avenging blue and shrieks out his awful rage. Curse for curse 
and blow for blow, you jolly old pirate! Hide your treasures in the 
remotest cranny of the uttermost wilderness, if you will, and I shall find 


TOIO 


The Prairie Falcon 


them; and if I find them, they are mine; and if I reach them, you may 
wreak your vengeance on whom you will. 


Optic Phasto — 


Redrawn by Allan Brooks from photo 
READY! 


Me aS 


by the Author 


I will not even reproach you 


for the rape of pullets 
nor the carnage of 
quails. Go to it, old 
Spore lunilll elne 
air with shrieks and 
call heaven to witness 
what a rogue you are! 
Aye, but you're a gay 
fowl, and I’m _ o’er 
fond of you! 

All the traditions 
of chivalry, save gen- 
tleness, and all the 
associations of ro- 
mance gather about 
this bird. In speed, 
in grace, in prowess, 
and in skill, he is the 
peer of any; and in 
the choice of nesting 
sites he is excelled by 
none. Picture, if you 
please, a granite cleft 
in the foothills. The 
road at the bottom 
winds deviously over 
intersecting talus beds, 
“rock  slides,’’ while 
the sun-kissed battle- 
ments of riven rock 
tower on either hand 
to the height of a 
thousand feet; and 
they clear their own 
debris in sheer walls 
of at least half that 
height. About the 
brink of the precipice 
a dozen Falcons are at 
play. It is courting 


TOIT 


The Prairie Falcon 


time and the birds are 
showing off. The fe- 
males are the larger 
birds, but it 1s their turn 
to sit in the boxes while 
the aspirants perform. 
The doughty males are 
not really contending— 
only renewing their vows 
as they come hurtling 
out of the heavens, 
screaming like all pos- 
sessed and cutting parab- 
olas whose acuteness is 
a marvel of the unex- 
pected. The female 
screaks in wild approval, 
or takes a turn herself 
because she cannot con- 
tain her fierce emotions. 
The rock walls resound 
with boisterous music, 
and the observer feels as 
though he were witness- 
ing the play of elemental 
forces—riotous, exultant, 
unrestrained, the very 
passion of freedom and 
2 oy conquest. 
Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author The Falcon is king 
SU he ae of birds and he knows it. 
Ferocity gleams in his eye and menace quivers in his talons. Mastery 
is his element; his very wings flash confidence; and caution is to him a 
thing unknown. The much-vaunted Eagle is a craven beside him, and 
nothing affords the smaller bird greater delight than to hector his lethargic 
kinsman. 

The Prairie Falcon is doubtless something of a tease at best. One 
observed at a northern lake made life miserable for an inoffensive Red-tail 
who chanced to occupy the same ledge; and he also took elaborate pains 
to chase the Great Blue Herons out of bounds. The Falcon would make 
repeated dashes at the passing hulk, but he could hardly have intended 
bodily injury to the herons, for he permitted them to evade each time by 


T1612 


The Prairie Falcon 


Taken in Kern County Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF PRAIRIE FALCON IN SANDSTONE CRANNY 


ducking, and he probably enjoyed sufficiently the bellow of mingled fear 
and rage which he was able with each threat to elicit from the larger birds. 

The flight of the Prairie Falcon is always easy and graceful, being 
oftenest accomplished by a succession of short wing-beats alternating 
with a sail. The bird mounts rapidly, and if intent on distant hunting 
grounds, is, because of its light coloration, soon lost to eye. It is hardly 
possible to exaggerate the swiftness of the Falcon’s flight through com- 
parison with that of any other bird. I should say that the White- 
throated Swift alone excels it. 

While jogging along through a little “‘coulee”’ in northern Washington 
my horse almost stepped on a Meadowlark which rose and immediately 


IOI3 


The Prairie Falcon 


settled again within ten feet. Thinking of a possible nest, I dismounted 
and turned my horse’s head, disturbing as I did so another lark from my 
very feet, and putting the first bird to flight for some two or three rods 
further. At that moment a Falcon flashed past my head with a quick 
Idhuff, and before I could recover from amazement, the Hawk was speed- 
ing out of sight with the lark in its talons. So instant was the Falcon’s 
swoop that I, although looking straight at the scene, could not have told 
within ten feet where the Hawk annexed the lark. 

The bird makes little fuss over the capture of small game. It simply 
materializes out of the empty blue and picks up a gopher or a blackbird as 
quietly as you would pluck a flower. The approach has doubtless been 
nicely calculated. The thunderbolt, launched from the height of half a 
mile, has been checked every few hundred feet by a slight opening of the 
wings, that the Falcon might gauge the caliber and intent of the victim; 
and the final plunge has, therefore, the speed and accuracy of fate. In 
case of larger game the quarry is knocked headlong by a crashing blow, 
after which the assailant turns to try conclusions as to weight. But the 
Falcon prefers always to snatch, and when small game is abundant, the 
bird is less likely to disturb rabbits or poultry. 

The first requirement of the Prairie Falcon is open country; and the 
second a cranny where she may lay her young. These conditions are 
ideally met in a low range of hills which run north and south through 
eastern San Luis Obispo County, and form the backbone of that ‘cattle 
country’? made famous in story and song by deeds of vaquero and mis- 
deeds of brigand. To the westward lie other rolling hills carpeted with 
bunch-grass and dotted with oaks. To the eastward stretches the arid 
interior plain. This cardinal ridge, by reason of the torrential character 
of the occasional rains of that country, is deeply scored by lateral canyons, 
and ‘“‘breaks”’ in a thousand walls, walls which vary in appearance from 
the sloping adobe of the north to the rugged escarpments of sandstone, 
conglomerate, and Pecten beds, which front the upper San Juan. Here 
are the castles, and there are the banqueting tables. For the presence 
of cattle means insects, and insects imply insect-eating birds, and Jn- 
sectivores mean Raptores. If we use birds-of-prey in the economic instead 
of the structural sense, and so include Magpie, Raven, and Shrike, then 
this cattle country is ravaged by no less than 23 species of feathered 
bandits (and ghouls); and of these we actually saw nineteen in the course 
of a three weeks’ reconnaissance in April, 1912. 

Of Falcones proper, after the ubiquitous Kestrel (Cerchneis s. sparve- 
rius), the Prairie Falcon is most numerous in fact, and least evident to casual 
noticé. It is his proper domain, but he rules it invisibly from on high. 
His business with earth is quickly despatched, and he is off again, while 


IOT4 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photos by the Author 
FLIGHT STUDIES OF THE PRAIRIE FALCON 


The Prairie Falcon 


the slow eye, especially of the breeder of hens, settles upon the soaring 
Buteo as the presumptive culprit. While his visits to the poultry yard 
are by no means rare, and his offenses, judged from this narrow human 
angle, are serious, we shall not stop to plead the thousands of destructive 
squirrels which this bird accounts for, but only hasten on to view him, or 
rather her, at home. 

The first scene is a wild adobe amphitheater, one of half a dozen 
such in sight at any given station. A few shrubs manage to cling to 
the upper reaches of the great earthen funnel; but as the walls descend, the 
pitch increases, until the vortex, 400 feet below, is fronted by walls, 
perpendicular, or even undercut. Here at a point midway of the basal 


Taken in San Bernardino County Photo by Wright M. Pierce 


EGGS OF PRAIRIE FALCON IN OLD RAVEN NEST 


wall, Kelly’s practiced eye discerned a Prairie Falcon squatting upon a 
shady shelf. I stood on the very uppermost brim of the funnel whose 
edges fell away sharply on either hand, and from my station it did not 
seem that a bird could find footing, let alone lodgment, on the wall against 


1616 


AUNOD Ulayy UL UayL TL, 


4oyinp ayy dq ydvibojoyd v Woy 
UOI[V ILIV ayy Jo JUNe ET BUSAN V 
SyI0Y JO JULIOd 


The Prairie Falcon 


which this Falcon had set herself. Yet a determined facing of the 
problem of approach brought a sure solution. We set an iron peg down 
some forty feet over the brim, then made fast and cast off the 60-foot 
rope with which we were provided, and found that it thus exceeded the 
nest by fifteen feet. To 
have gone down from 
above would have meant 
some risk, as well as an 
accompaniment of blind- 
ing dust, so “‘Kelly”’ 
made a detour and at- 
tacked from below. By 
dint of carving steps 
with a hammer he suc- 
ceeded at last in clutch- 
ing the dangling rope- 
end, and so reached the 
coveted shelf. The Fal- 
con, meanwhile, made the 
great amphitheater re- 
sound with malediction, 
and charged about in a 
fashion to make the be- 
holder dizzy as he 
watched her passage 
across the fluted back- 
ground. Her anger 
made our visit memor- 
able, but it failed to Sess 
arouse her mate, who Taken in Kern County Photo by the Author 
A PALATIAL RESIDENCE 

Was doubtless off hunt- A PRAIRIE FALCON MAY BE SEEN STANDING ON AN OLD RAVEN NEST 
ing in the basin country. . 

Though slow to take alarm, the Falcon once roused from the nest be- 
comes very wary. It was doubly fortunate, therefore, that one of the 
birds photographed for display on page 1619 could be approached under 
cover, and suddenly confronted from a convenient spur just opposite. 
To reach this nest our intrepid guide, Dean Brown, went down hand over 
hand the full length of a 140-foot rope. A bird who knows she is under 
surveillance will never resume a position on the eggs; but she will inter- 
sperse her nervous and often distant excursions by prolonged rests on 
some favorite perch or commanding knob. And this she is the more 
ready to do if the observer himself remains quiet. A resumption of 


1017 


The Prairie Falcon 


hostilities sends her off on the instant to screak and soar or tower and 
stoop. 

Of course it will be remembered that the female Prairie Falcon is the 
larger and “‘better’’ bird, as is the case with most Raptors. She is the 
more aggressive and feels the greater interest in the welfare of her brood, 
probably because the duties of incubation fall chiefly to her. It was 
several years before | even so much as saw a male Prairie incubating, but 
several such examples have more recently come to hand, so that I presume 
it is largely a matter of individuality, after all. The unpracticed eye can 
soon distinguish the larger proportions of the female, but it takes a prac- 
ticed ear, or close individual association, to catch the difference in timbre 
or weight between the voices of the two sexes. Here, again, individuality 
counts, but the voices of the males average lighter. 

The assaults of an angry Falcon are really dangerous. Even when 
the earliest efforts are discouraged by a show of sticks or stones, it is decid- 
edly disconcerting to feel the rush of air from a passing falcon-wing upon 
your hatless pate, or to mark the instant change in pitch from the shrill 
uproar of impending doom to the guttural notes of baffled retreat. The 
Falcon has a nasty temper at best, and if she dare not vent her spite on 
you, she will fall upon the first wight who crosses her path. Woe betide 
the luckless Barn Owl who flaps forth from his polluted den hard by to 
learn the cause of the disturbance. I have seen such bowled into the 
sage in a trice, and Kelly declares that he has several times seen them 
struck dead. At such times also the Raven is put on trial for his life. 
In spite of their close association, there is evidently an ancient grudge 
between these birds. Whether or no the ebony saint be at fault, I cannot 
tell, but certain it is that if a Raven blunders near in the hour of the 
Falcon’s high displeasure, he is fearfully beset. The Raven is an adept 
at wing-play himself, and the Falcon’s thunderbolt is met with a deft 
evasion which reminds one of the best sword-play. But the Raven 
takes no pleasure in it. His eyes start with terror, and while he has no 
time for utterance himself, the distressed cries of his mate proclaim the 
danger he is in. 

This close association of Falcon and Raven at nesting time is the 
strangest element in the lives of both of them. To be sure, their require- 
ments of nesting sites are similar; but it is more than that which induces 
the birds to nest within a hundred yards of each other in the same canyon, 
when neighboring or distant canyons offering as excellent sites are empty. 
So constant indeed is this association that when one finds the Raven’s 
nest, he says, ‘‘Well, now, where is the Falcon’s?”’ Of the entire number 
of Ravens’ nests which came under my personal notice in one year, seven 
were thus associated with nests of the Falcon in the same canyon, and the 


T6018 


Author 


Photo by the 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County 


FALCON POSES 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County 
REAL SPORT 


LOWER FIGURE IS THAT OF THE VETERAN NESTER, 
TRUESDALE 


THE 


Photo by the Author 


FRED 


remaining three were within a 
quarter of a mile of Falcons’ in 
neighboring canyons separated 
by a single ridge. And it is im- 
possible to tell from the stage of 
incubation reached which _ bird 
is the follower. In two instances 
nests containing young Ravens 
were associated with Falcons 
whose eggs had not yet hatched; 
but in another notably close in- 
stance, the Raven laid her first 
egg on the day the Falcon’s 
eggs were pipped. The remain- 
ing instances were neutral; i. e., 
nests of both species contained 
eggs. The only guess we dare 
hazard is that both birds reap 
advantages of warning in case of 
hostile approach. 

Concurrent with this associ- 
ation is the annual, or at least 
occasional, shifting of sites on 
the part of both species. This 
shifting is of course quickened 
by persecution. If unsuccessful 
in raising a brood one year the 
bird will try another situation, 
but always, except in extreme 
instances, in the same canyon 
or general locality. In this way 
the Falcon appropriates the site 
once occupied by Ravens (and 
so gets credited with a “‘‘stick”’ 
nest, though I am satisfied that 
the Falcon never lifts a twig); 
and the Ravens, in turn, with- 
out opposition, are allowed to 
rear their pile in a niche just 
previously occupied by the Fal- 
cons. The ruses adopted by birds 
hard pressed are sometimes 


The Prairie Falcon 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 


A NESTING HAUNT IN THE SHANDON HILLS 


humorously pathetic. A Falcon which one year occupied the front of a 
noble escarpment in a wild valley (and forfeited four clouded beauties 
thereby) was found the next year, after a lengthy search, in a tiny niche 
once occupied by a Road-runner, on the back, or hill-facing side, of a minor 
sandstone tooth, and not over twenty feet from the ground. The retreat 
had been betrayed by an incautious line of white excrement, and the 
occupant, when summoned by a shout from the triumphant Kelly, 
looked the very picture of disgust and chagrin. She was mad all through, 
too disgusted for utterance, and she sat glooming upon the edge of the 
nest until we drew very near. When she flew she gave vent to the usual 
number of futile expletives, whereupon the male joined her and gave us a 
double blessing. 

The two handsomest sets of eggs in the extensive M. C. O. series were 
obtained on successive days in the Shandon country, and the finding of 
both resulted from a combination of professional suspiciousness, durch- 
heit, and happy accident, which taken together constitute ‘‘collectors’ 
luck.”” A page from the note-book gives the details as follows: 

“It was the ‘white’ Falcons who more nearly outwitted us this year, 


1627 


The Prairie Falcon 


for we had invaded their sanctuary for the second time and were on the 
retreat, thoroughly baffled, when a vagrant impulse seized me to fire a 
pistol back and some two hundred yards away, at a last year’s raven’s 
nest set high against a rock wall. The celerity with which a male Prairie 
Falcon abandoned five perfectly good eggs of the rare ‘white’ type was a 
balm to wounded spirits. 

“Tn another canyon a male Prairie Falcon keel-hauled a passing 
eagle, and I marked his approximate range of interest upon his return in 
lordly mood. There were many possibilities, but I tried first a likely- 
looking old raven’s nest a hundred yards away. ‘The effect was electrical. 
Out shot a female Prairie Falcon as though touched by the bullet; and 
when she had caught her breath, she filled the air with fierce aspersions, 
perhaps pardonable under the circumstances. 

“The ascent was tedious and the sun torrid; but the descent over a 
conglomerate escarpment some ninety feet in height was rewarded by a 
set, 1/4, of the darkest eggs of this species which I have ever seen, so dark, 
indeed, that I first exclaimed ‘Duck Hawk!’ incredulously. The amiable 
birds did not omit to offer comments anent my skill as a rope artist; and 
the female made some beautiful swoops at my head—always a solace under 
such circumstances. Ah, me! What a rascal is the odlogist who enjoys 
such objurgations! But Il own to it. And as the indignant lady 
stood upright in her empty cell, I turned and blew her a kiss and promised 
to come back another year.”’ 

The exact choice of nesting sites varies interminably from ‘‘potholes”’ 
and crannies to more pretentious caves, or even open ledges. The chief 
requirement is inaccessibility, especially as regards four-footed prowlers. 
The birds scarcely fear the intrusion of feathered marauders, I guess, 
though I do recall having once seen a Barn Ow] which lighted, possibly by 
accident, upon a ledge which a Prairie Falcon had just quitted, and which 
contained four fresh eggs. The owl stood her ground, too, in spite of a 
furious onslaught, and the advantages seemed to lie with the night bird 
so long as she had a wall to back her up. Anyhow, the falcon withdrew 
a few rods and the owl slipped away, hugging the cliff so tightly that the 
falcon did not dare to strike. A south exposure is oftenest favored and 
there seems to be no particular effort on the part of the sitting bird to 
avoid the glare of the sun. Unseasonable rains, however, do sometimes 
cause her discomfort, and, more rarely, loss. 

The first two weeks in April are the golden weeks for Falcon nesting 
in the cattle country. Evidently many sets are complete by April first, 
for we found one far advanced in incubation on the 19th, and another 
hatching on the 22nd. If robbed early in the season, second sets are 
almost invariably laid in a new but closely related situation. 


1622 


hee we had eee their sanctuary for the second time and were ‘on ates ee 
retreat, thoroughly baffled, when a vagrant impulse seized me to firea 

- pistol back and some two hundred yards away, at.a last year’s raven’s 

nest set high against a rock wall. The celerity with which a male Prairie 
Falcon abandoned five perfectly good eggs of the rare ‘white’ type was a 

balm to wounded spirits. 

“In another canyon a male Prairie Falcon kecl-hauled a passing 
eagle, and | marked his approximate range of interest upon his return in. 
lordly mood. There were many possibilities, but 1 tried first a dikely- 
looking old raven’s nest a hundred yards away. The effeet was electrical. 

Out shot a female Prairie Falcon as though touched by the bullet; and 
when she had caught her breath, she filled the air with herce aspersions, 
perhaps pardonable uncer the circumstances. 

“Phe ascent was tedious and the sun torrid; hut the desrent over a 
conglomerate escarpment some nmety feet in height was rewarded by a 
set, 1/4, of the darkest eggs of this species Bich I heye ever'seen,so.dark, 
indeed, that I first exclaimed ‘Duck Hawk! incredulously. The amiable 
birds did not omit te ofler canmmients ament my skill as a rope artist; and 
the female made some ocelot swoops at my head—always a solace under 
such circumstances. Ab, me! a Be a rascal is the odlogist who enjoys 


such oljurgations! Nes a i rie Faleo the indignant lady 
stood uipeiait ih her Qepene. Site of Pi ral aleon, and promised 
te noha tack aspet her Prom ee even by W. Leon Dawson 
The exact choice of ake Senduig Qbutn Goutinably from ‘ ‘potholes”’ 

and ¢ranhies t) snore ietenthntes caves, or even open ledges: The chief 

Peahisemiens jo Wau Ey, vhnecially as — four-footed prowlers. 
‘Pie. itis eawwely four the umihastion of Gathered marauders, 1: guess,\< 

Pevogts + chitisanll Rapviayy meer eter uae ne it webich lighted, possibly by - 

ee ian ee Hsaiss eae hot jae quitied, and which 

sieeas Bs Sts tes Gael ages std. Tan, i ephte of a 

bathe ae ab ace: GEM ers eee Sees he er che elude ied 

dic SRSA hs Ee DS 7 a Spetice, hy Palones erence 

; Bese that the 

vored and 

+ wiv bird to 

*, om sometimes - 


| Tae ut SBhe hae es 2 he ley aaheity et Ealeon acccne. 
OOS tei SOS ie Wake ate anced by April first, 
| Sa RE diideied scene fer mit Yeh TR aGatiog. om the 19th, and another” 
heey see De: aie i mashed wahy a the season, second sets are) 
ease Ma ee Wey: teh a a oe Vex: -clocety related situation. 


The Prairie Falcon 


Probably none but the few elect would enjoy a rhapsody on color 
variation in Falcons’ eggs, and the non-elect would raise holy hands of 
horror over the thwarted hopes of these feathered brigands. So be it, 
then, and suffice to say that neither Brooks nor Fuertes can paint a bird 
with such bewitching grace as Nature herself displays in the lawless 
tinting of a Falcon’s egg. She (varium et mutabile semper femina) dips 
her brush in odrhodeine and she feathers and stipples or twirls and 
scumbles, or as suddenly ceases, until the hearts of her poor votaries are 
seized with an exquisite pain—but those dear woes we may not voice. 

In spite of the fact that the Prairie Falcon is really one of the com- 
monest Raptors in the West, its discovery within the United States was 
not reported till 1853,! and it long remained a rare and little-known 
bird. Coues in 18742 confessed to having seen but one of them; and a 
set of eggs taken in 1860 by Dr. Hayden, in the Wind River Mountains 
of Wyoming, was for some years unique. In this respect the history 
of the Prairie Falcon shows analogy to that of certain sea-fowl. Birds 
that have been known vaguely for years as inhabitants of the open ocean 
may not be fully known until their breeding haunts are discovered,— 
until they are anchored, as it were, to land by the strong chains of the 
reproductive instinct. The Prairie Falcon is likewise a dweller of the 
blue serene. The level prairies and the rolling hills are his ocean, and he 
is a bold corsair, snatching his prey at will from the crested billow (of 
soil) and caring nothing for the clumsy men-of-war, save to spurn them. 
But when spring comes on then he must seek some frowning cliff which 
fronts the prairie wave; and then he must place himself and those dearer 
than self at the mercy of the curious public, whether friendly or hostile. 


1 Cassin, Birds of California and Texas. I., p. 88, pl. 16. 
2 Birds of the Northwest (1874), p. 346. 


ENON Eel 

ae EE Ee I EO EE 

Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
LEAVING THE COUNTRY v46) 22 


The Peregrine Falcon 


No. 320 


Peregrine Falcon 


A. O. U. No. 356. Falco peregrinus anatum (Bonaparte). 

Synonyms.—AMERICAN PEREGRINE FALCON. (GREAT-FOOTED FALCON. DucK 
Hawk. 

Description.— Adult: Above dark bluish ash, or slaty black with a glaucous 
“‘bloom,”’ the feathers lighter edged, and the larger ones obscurely barred; top of head 
appreciably darker,—almost black; wings long, and pointed by the second quill, the 
first notched about two inches from the end; primaries distinctly barred on the inner 
webs with ochraceous; tail and upper tail-coverts narrowly barred with ashy-gray and 
blackish, whitish-tipped; area below eve, produced downward as broad ‘‘moustache,”’ 
sooty black; throat and chest buffy white or pale ochraceous, immaculate or nearly so; 
remaining underparts buffy white or ochraceous buffy, everywhere heavily spotted, on 
breast with blackish crescentic marks, posteriorly lengthening into braces and bars; 
tarsus feathered two-fifths of the way down; toes and claws lengthened. Bill blue- 
black, but with cere and much of base yellow; feet yellow; claws black. Immature: 
Above sooty brown, plain or with some glaucous bloom with advancing age; feathers 
not barred, but more broadly and distinctly edged with ochraceous buff; top of head 
lighter than back by reason of ochraceous and whitish admixture; bars of tail obsolete 
on central feathers; below heavily striped with sooty brown, or if barred, only on 
flanks; chest never immaculate,—narrowly streaked with sooty brown; prevailing 
color of underparts deeper buffy or ochraceous than in adults. Adult male, length: 
393-7-457-2  (15.50-18.00); wing 292.1-330.2 (11.50-13.00); tail 152.4-196.9 (6.00- 
7-75); culmen 19.6 (.77). Adult female, length: 457.2-533.4 (18.00-21.00); wing 
342.9-374.7 (13.50-14.75); tail 177.8-235 (7.00-9.25); culmen 24.1 (.95). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; dark coloration; black cheeks and ‘‘mous- 
tache’’; long pointed wings; swift, easy flight. 

Nesting.— Nest: None; eggs laid on floor of cranny or on ledge of cliff, or 
rarely in hollow trees or even on ground (with some improvisation of grass or 
hay). Eggs: Usually 4 or 5, occasionally 3, 6 of record; basally pinkish white but, 
save in rarest instances, completely overlaid with ‘‘rich chocolate’ (vinaceous tawny, 
pecan-brown or liver-brown), mottled with self shades to blackish red. Av. size 52.5 
x 41 (Bendire). Av. of 19 eggs from Santa Barbara, five sets, the product of a single 
pair of birds, in the M. C. O. coll.: 53.7 x 43 (2.11 x 1.69); index 80. Season: 
March 1o0—April 10; one brood. 

Range of Falco peregrinus.—Major portion of Northern Hemisphere, wandering 
south in winter through Africa and South America. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common resident, chiefly coastwise and on 
the Santa Barbara Islands. Breeds on the sea-fronting cliffs and on the heights of 
adjacent ranges; also interiorly (Escondido, Lakeside, San Onofre, Western Kern 
County, etc.). Numbers considerably augmented in winter. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Falco anatum), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. iii., 
1846, p. 46 (upper California; nesting along coast); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U.S., 
1893, p. 106, pl. 15 (food); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 44 (San Joaquin 
Valley; habits); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 56 (s. Calif. ids.; nesting 
habits, food, etc.) ; Oberholser, Auk, vol. xxxv., 1918, p. 207 (nomencl.). 


1624 


The Peregrine Falcon 


Taken in Monterey County Photo by the Author 
A GLIMPSE OF THE PINNACLES 
A PAIR OF PEREGRINES HOLD THIS REGION UNDER TRIBUTE 


THE NAME Duck Hawk is really a tribute to the skill and prowess 
of this highly endowed bird; but it is belittling, nevertheless, to institute 
a comparison, however remote, between the noble Peregrine and the multi- 
tudinous “Hen Hawk”’ of the vulgar conception. This is the PERE- 
GRINE FALCON, if you please, the American bird being not different, 
save for a somewhat whiter breast (which only enhances his beauty) from 
the “falcon gentil’’ of song and story, the most courageous, the most 
spirited of all birds of prey. Like the Prairie Falcon, it secures an in- 
tended victim either by striking it from above and bearing it down to 
earth by its acquired momentum, or else by snatching it from the ground 
with incredible swiftness. Many stories are told of its seizing and making 
off with wounded game from under the very nose of the hunter; and it is 
especially fearless in its pursuit of wild ducks, which it is said to follow 
systematically for days at a time during the migrations. 

It is undeniable that chickens occasionally fall victims to this dark 
corsair, but Bendire is of opinion that the Falcon rather disdains such 
stupid quarry, and is sure that they sometimes engage in the pursuit of 


1025 


The Peregrine Falcon 


poultry from sheer mischief without intention of harm. Certainly the 
Peregrine need not deny himself any luxury which his appetite craves, 
and young meteors would be quite in his line if they were only a little 
more juicy. 

The Peregrines are fairly common about the Santa Barbara Islands, 
where they subsist largely upon sea-birds. There is a scattering popula- 
tion, also, along the rugged sea-cliffs and outlying islets of the western 
coast. Most of the mainland birds, however, even of those which lay the . 
coast under daily tribute, find more congenial nesting sites on the cliffs 


Taken in Kern County Pholo by the Author 
A NESTING LEDGE OF THE PEREGRINE FALCON 


of the coastal ranges, at a distance of from five to twenty miles back from 
the seashore. And because water-fowl rather than sea-fowl are Peregrine’s 
specialty, a few pairs nest along the east exposure of the innermost coast 
range, where they may review the tenants of Buena Vista and Tulare 
lakes, as well as the flooded lowlands of the lower San Joaquin. Tyler! 
gives several interesting anecdotes of this bird’s occurrence in the Fresno 
section; among them the following: ‘‘The flight of the Duck Hawk is so 


! Pacific Coast Avifauna, No. 9, Some Birds of the Fresno District, by John G. Tyler (1913), p. 45. 


1626 


marvelously fast that even the ducks have 
not a chance to escape, unless there is 
some pond or slough near by into which 
they can dive. The writer remembers 
standing, with several companions, on 
the shore of Summit Lake one late Octo- 
ber day, when, upon hearing a sound like 
a heavy wind blowing through the tules, 
we turned and saw a duck plunge into 
the lake from a height of not less than 
six hundred feet. The splash of the im- 
pact resembled the report of a revolver. 
‘Bullet-hawk,’ called one of the men, and 
looking up we saw one of these long- 
winged pirates making off for a new field. 
“At another time we noticed a small 
flock of teal winging their way toward 
us, with a black speck fully a quarter 
of a mile in their wake and slightly above 
them. The flight of the ducks, rapid as 
it was, seemed slow in contrast to that of 
the hawk. The latter was almost upon 
the unsuspecting birds in an incredibly 
short time. Suddenly the ducks scattered Sigg pee — 
and half a dozen teal fell with cries of fear  T#*en * Washington 1Aiato ip) ie icici 
: A PAIR OF PEALE FALCONS 
into the water almost at our feet. Had quese represent a DARKER RACE OF THE PERE- 
there been no water directly under them SS eae ie 
at the moment the hawk was seen, there is no doubt that at least one 
duck would have been captured. A friend tells of seeing a Duck Hawk 
dash at a lone goose that was flying over, striking it head-on with such force 
that it fell within a few feet of the observer. Besides a broken wing the bird 
seemed to have suffered otherwise to a great extent, for it soon expired.”’ 
For a nesting site the Falcon chooses an inaccessible cranny in some 
commanding cliff. In default of shelter, an exposed ledge midway of some 
sheer precipice will do as well. The southern coast ranges offer a con- 
siderable variety of rounded pockets or lens-shaped cavities, left either 
by the defection of a nodule, or else by the evanescence of some frail sub- 
stance once resident in the old sandstone. These chambers are naturally 
lined with clean dry sand, and they afford ideal homes for Falcon or Condor. 
The birds exhibit a deep attachment for a given locality, and although 
they may shift from niche to niche, they will not desert their chosen cliff 
for anything short of gun-fire. Mr. Clarence S. Sharp mentions! a pair 


1 Condor, Vol. IX., May, 1907, p. 86. = 
1627 


The Peregrine Falcon 


Taken in Kern County Photo by the Author 


A CLOSE-UP OF n/4 DUCK HAWK 
SO CLOSE, INDEED, THAT THE NEAREST EGG IS DISTORTED 


which to his knowledge had occupied the same cliff for twenty years, and 
were rated as “‘old residents’’ before his time. In such an instance, how- 
ever, it must be borne in mind that a desirable nesting site will hold even 
a widowed bird. A new mate will be secured and this newcomer, if de- 
prived of its mate in turn, is quite likely to hold the ancient fortress and 
to bring home another bridegroom. 

The eggs of the Peregrine, four or five in number, are among the 
handsomest known. A background of pinkish buff is habitually buried 
in a smudge of vinaceous tawny, upon which spots and blotches of richest 
chocolate are vaguely outlined. Certain eggs in the collection of Mr. 
Donald Cohen of Alameda, and Mr. Chase Littlejohn of Redwood City, 
are best described as red. The circumstances under which the last-named 
eggs were found are worth special record. A waif barrel, half full of straw 
packing, was once cast up on the desolate marshes of the San Francisco 
Bay region at a point several miles east of Redwood City. Here, because 
of an undisputed territory filled with the California Clapper Rails, wild 


1628 


AyuNoD Ulay Ul Uaye ], 
4oyynp ayy dq ydvibopoygd 0 WOdy 
NYC Ul ‘UOI[RY VUILI10q JO S83q PUP JSON 


The Peregrine Falcon 


ducks, and other delicacies, a pair of Duck Hawks made their home and 
provided upon this lowly shake-down, year by year, a clutch of five 


glowing beauties. 


One speaks without compunction of the robbery of the Duck Hawks’ 
nests, not alone because the owners are corsairs themselves, but because 
a judicious selection of first sets will not impoverish the species. If not 
further disturbed, the falcons will invariably nest again the same season. 
A writer in the Auk, Chas. R. Keyes, of Mt. Vernon, Iowa, tells of a 
pair nesting on the Cedar River palisades, from which a set of six eggs 


was taken on April 5th, 1808. 
Three weeks later another set of 
six was found across the river— 
undoubtedly the product of the 
same pair of birds. 

Peregrines, like Prairies, are 
exceedingly noisy in defense of their 
young. Their notes must differ 
somewhat, I suppose, from those 
of the Prairie, but I confess I can- 
not distinguish them to my own 
satisfaction. 

When the infantile appetite 
is fully developed, then it is that 
all nature must pay tribute. The 
bird figured here under the name 
of ‘‘Master Peale’’ was encountered 
in June, 1907, on Carroll Islet, one 
of the rocks, now protected, off 
the west coast of Washington. The 
youngster was probably the runt 
of a scattered brood and we judged 
that he must have broken shell by 
the first of May. He was in charge 
of two very solicitous parents, who 
guarded his every movement and 
published screaming bulletins of 
our progress—an attention which, 
by the way, began to pall upon our 


senses by the end of the fourth day. 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
MASTER PEALE 


The clamor was renewed as often as we appeared near Master Peale’s 
favorite perch, an old dead spruce tree; and the old birds, when they could 
no longer control their indignation afoot, relieved their pent-up feelings 


1629 


The Pigeon Hawks 


by giddy swoops and sallies, or else took a turn around the sea-wall, 
screaming frightfully. 

Given speed, courage, and good appetites, all of which these birds 
undoubtedly possess, it is difficult to conceive of more Eden-like conditions 
than those here provided for the Falcons. Sea-birds of eleven species 
make Carroll Islet home, and it is in the highway of passage during 
migrations. The Falcons had only to covet and kill morning, noon and 
night. Indeed, so lavish was the provision made for them that their 
presence did not seem to cause concern to the myriad sea-fowl. The 
Falcon’s choice appeared to fall oftenest upon the Cassin Auklets, and 
most of the tragic feather-heaps discovered belonged to this species. Since 
the Auklets fly only by night during the breeding season, we were forced 
to conclude that the Falcons secured their favorite quarry after nightfall 
or else very early in the morning. 


No. 321 


Pigeon Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 357. Falco columbarius columbarius Linnzus. 


Description.—Old male: Above bluish gray or dark slaty blue; feathers with 
black shafts (and sometimes pale or rusty edges); general color usually interrupted by 
outcropping white or buffy on nape; tip of wing formed by 2nd and 3rd primaries, Ist 
shorter than 4th, Ist and 2nd sharply notched on the inner web; the 2nd and 3rd 
slightly emarginate on the outer web; inner webs of all quills barred or spotted with 
whitish; tail black, narrowly white-tipped and crossed by four narrow, whitish bars 
(slaty on middle pair), the anterior one concealed; chin, throat, and jugulum pale 
ochraceous buff, nearly immaculate; remaining underparts tawny or ochraceous, 
heavily streaked with dark umber, sometimes changing to bars on the flanks; sides of 
throat and cheeks finely pencilled with umber; axillars and lining of wings dusky with 
some admixture of tawny, and heavily marked with paired round spots of white. 
Iris brown; bill and claws blue-black; feet yellow; cere and base of bill greenish yellow. 
This high plumage is quite rare. Adult female and male in usual dress: Above dark 
umber-brown, glaucous or not; the head and neck much varied, the back and scapulars 
less varied by buffy or rusty edgings and blackish central or shaft-streaks; quill spots 
ochraceous buff; the outer webs of primaries after second also ochraceous-spotted; 
underparts not noticeably different from male in high plumage. Jmmature: Perhaps 
lighter above and with more ochraceous buffy edging; otherwise not appreciably, or at 
least constantly, different from adult. Adult male, length: 254-292.1 (10.00-11.50); 
wing 177.8 (7.00); tail 124.5 (4.90); bill 12.2 (.48). Adult female, length: 304.8-330.2 
(12.00-13.00); wing 215.9 (8.50); tail 137.2 (5.40); bill 14.5 (.57). 


Recognition Marks.—Little hawk size; swift flight; sharp wings; stout pro- 


1030 


The Pigeon Hawks 


portions otherwise; heavily 
umber-streaked lower parts; 
tail crossed by fowr whitish 
bars, as compared with F. c. 
richardsont, darker; lighter 
and more extensively spotted 
than F. c. suckleyt. 

Nesting.—Not cer- 
tainly known to breed in 
California. Nest: In hollow 
limbs of trees or in crannies 
about cliffs. Eggs: 4 or 5; 
pinkish white, spotted and 
blotched with reddish brown 
or chocolate, or else cinna- 
mon-buff, sprinkled and dot- 
ted with heavier shades of 
thesamecolor. Av. size 38.1 
X 30.5 (1.50 x 1.20). Season: 
c. May Ist; one brood. 

Range of Falco colum- 
barius.—Northern North 
America; in winter south to 
northern South America. 

Range of F. c. colum- 
barius.—Breeds from north- 
western Alaska and Macken- 
zie, south in the mountains 
to Colorado and (probably) 
California, and from central 
Keewatin, northern Ungava, 
and Newfoundland, south to 
Maine and the northern pen- 
insula of Michigan. Winters 
from California and the Gulf 
States through middle Amer- 
ica to Venezuela and Ecua- 
dor. 

Distribution in Cali- 
fornia.—Rare summer resident in the mountains (Mammoth Lakes, June 26, 19109, 
June, 1921), undoubtedly a breeder but eggs have never been reported. Common 
winter resident and migrant, chiefly west of the Sierras. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Falco columbarius), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
lii., 1846, p. 46 (upper California); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 345 (syn., 
desc., discussion of eggs, etc.); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 109, pl. 
16 (food); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. IT, 1915, p. 68 (status in Calif.); Howell, 
Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 57 (s. Calif. ids.). 


THE PIGEON HAWK is preéminently a collector’s bird. Reports 
of occurrence are a cherished tradition with the fraternity, but positive 


Citar Kroc hs 


PIGEON HAWKS 


1031 


The Pigeon Hawks 


knowledge of the bird in California is confined to a few skins in cabinets; 
while tradition itself is concerned chiefly with disconnected records, or 
with anecdotes of behavior under gun-fire, nature of quarry, etc. There 
are a few baffling records of the bird’s appearance in late spring or late 
summer, but there is only one serious claim of a California nesting record, 
that made by H. R. Taylor, the immortal “Harry,” who, according to 
Stephens (MS), took a set of eggs on the 6th of April, 1888, from a ledge 
nest on a steep bluff in Santa Clara County. The center of the bird’s 
distribution in midwinter is in the chaparral-covered foothills of southern 
California. 

If a scrutiny, therefore, of all little hawks is maintained throughout 
the year, and with special diligence in winter and early spring, the search 
will be rewarded now and then by the sight of a bird whose movement 
is a littlke more rapid and dashing than that of the ubiquitous Kestrel. 
The wings seem to reach forward with a stroke like that of a strong swim- 
mer; and, altogether, there is an air of indefinable quality and power about 
the diminutive Pigeon Hawk which does not pertain to his less spirited 
cousin. Not content with the humble quarry which usually satisfies the 
commoner species, this little winged terror makes havoc among the Black- 
birds, Meadowlarks, and smaller songsters. Himself not larger than a 
full-sized pigeon, the Hawk sometimes pursues a Mourning Dove with 
relentless fury, and easily overtakes this fleet bird, unless it finds cover 
or the protection of man. The audacious creature has even been credited 
with killing Ptarmigan, and it sometimes attacks sea-fowl of thrice its 
weight, through sheer exuberance of spirits. 

Now and then, also, one comes upon the Pigeon Hawk seated at 
rather close quarters; for it is less suspicious than most, and it hails from 
northern wilds or mountain fastnesses which do not know the fear of man. 
At such a time one is struck by the quaint, almost antique, appearance 
of the tawny breast with its heavy umber streaks; and the glaucous bloom 
of the upperparts might have come from milady’s cheek when she went 
hawking, centuries ago. In the hand, the round white spots, which 
sprinkle the feathers lining the bird’s wings, make it seem still more like 
a product of curious medieval art. 

“Although the well known Pigeon Hawk is pretty generally dis- 
tributed over the entire United States during the fall and winter seasons, 
by far the greater number breed north of our border, and comparatively 
few remain as summer residents, at least east of the Mississippi River, 
and those that do generally confine themselves to the mountain districts 
and to the thinly settled and heavily wooded regions along our Northern 
States. In the Rocky Mountains, as well as in the Sierra Nevada and 
Cascade Ranges, and their spurs, the Pigeon Hawk is probably quite a 


1032 


The Pigeon Hawks 


common summer resident, but as yet its nest and eggs have been rarely 
taken, and even where they have been found, there remains more or less 
doubt as to their proper identification, as the two closely allied forms, 
Falco columbarius suckleyt and Falco richardsonii occur in some of these 
mountains as well, and are very liable to be mistaken for the true Pigeon 
Hawk, even by fairly well posted ornithologists, and almost certainly by 
the average collector.’’ (Bendire.) 


No. 321a Black Pigeon Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 357a. Falco columbarius suckleyi Ridgway. 

Synonyms.—Brack MERLIN. SUCKLEY’s MERLIN. 

Description.—Adults: Similar to F. columbarius but much darker. Adult 
male in high plumage: Above blackish slate, nearly black on hind-neck, definitely 
black on lesser wing-coverts; pileum and occiput finely streaked with dusky; remaining 
upper plumage sharply streaked by black shafts of feathers; flight-feathers black on 
exposed surfaces, the white spotting plainly visible from below but much reduced in 
extent; tail black above on exposed portion, narrowly tipped with white, below crossed 
by three obsolescent white bars (appearing only on inner webs), the distal bar nearly 
two inches from tip of tail; below as in F. columbarius, but streaks sharper, heavier, 
and nearly uniform sooty black, the throat finely streaked throughout, the streaks 
tending to confluence in ‘‘pencils’’; tawny wash of sides, thighs, and flanks heavier. 
Adult female, and male in more usual plumage: Above warm brownish black, the blue 
present as a gloss but much reduced in intensity, tawny streaks on sides of neck tending 
to invade nape; spotting of wings more extensive and strongly tawny-tinged; tail 
crossed by four subterminal bars, of which two visible from above, white or tinged 
with tawny; underparts more heavily tinged with tawny and streaks a little more 
diffuse, heavier and tending to confluence on sides. Young: Changes as in F. colum- 
barius but always darker. Size as in preceding. 

Recognition Marks.—Little hawk size; blackish or slaty above; throat finely 
pencilled with black; underparts heavily streaked with black. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California. Nest: In high holes in trees. 
Eggs: Not yet taken—presumably much like those of preceding form. 

General Range.—Pacific Coast district from northern California to Sitka, east 
at least along eastern slopes of Cascades and Blue Mountains in Oregon and Wash- 
ington. Possibly ranging farther north in winter. 

Occurrence in California.—Rare winter visitor; only two positive records: 
Yreka, Siskiyou County, and Claremont, Los Angeles County, by J. F. Illingworth 
(Dec. 6, 1895). 

Authorities.—Baird, Brewer, and Ridgway (Falco lithofalco, var. suckleyt), 
Hist. N. Amer. Birds, vol. iii., 1874, p. 147 (Yreka); Merriam, U. S. Dept. Agric., N. 
Amer. Fauna, no. 16, 1899, p. 113 (Mount Shasta); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 
7, 1912, p..49 (Claremont, Los Angeles Co.). 


THE BLACK MERLIN, like the Pigeon Hawk proper, is a northern 
species which occasionally straggles south in winter. Although there are 


The Pigeon Hawks 


still only two positive records of the bird’s occurrence in California, one 
feels sure that this paucity of records is due rather to our own inattention 
than to failure on the bird’s part. Indeed, one who knows the predilec- 
tion of this ‘‘saturated’’ form of F. columbarius for the humid coasts, will 
surmise that the Black Merlin is of regular though rare occurrence in 
Humboldt and Del Norte counties, and will not be surprised to find it 
breeding there. 

Of their occurrence further north Mr. J. H. Bowles says: 

“During the fall and early spring they are most often to be met with in 
the open prairie country, and on the extensive tide flats that are to be 
found along Puget Sound. In such localities there is always an abundance 
of the smaller migratory birds, which seem to make up almost the entire 
sum and substance of their food supply. These, so far as I have seen, are 
invariably caught on the wing, sometimes by a direct swoop, and at others 
by- the falcon trick of turning breast upwards. A thrilling illustration of 
this last named habit came to my notice when half.a dozen Tree Swallows 
were teasing one of these Merlins as he was passing over a large marsh. 
This passage at arms took place at a considerable height from the ground 
and formed a most vivid picture. The Swallows carefully kept above the 
Hawk so that he could not pounce upon them, and occasionally one, bolder 
than the rest, would dive down and peck him on the back; but the larger 
bird seemed to pay no attention whatever. Of a sudden—and it was 
almost as much of a surprise to me as it must have been to the Swallow— 
the apparently listless Hawk met one of these attacks by turning grace- 
fully breast uppermost. He literally turned a half-somerset in midair, and 
so accurately was the movement timed that the over-confident Swallow 
flew directly into the outstretched talons of his enemy. 

“Occasionally grasshoppers and large dragon-flies are caught and 
eaten, always when flying, and seemingly more for sport than for the 
desire for food. In this connection I may express my belief that they often 
take pleasure in the chase when not intending to kill, for I have seen one 
repeatedly dash through a large flock of terrified Sandpipers without 
apparently attempting to catch any of them.” 


No. 321b Richardson’s Pigeon Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 358. Falco columbarius richardsoni (Ridgway). 

Synonyms.—AMERICAN MERLIN. RICHARDSON’S MERLIN. 

Description.—Adults somewhat similar to F. columbarius but larger and much 
lighter in coloration. Adult male: Above bluish dusky or brownish slaty gray as to 
ground but much relieved by feather-skirtings of rusty brown, and by blackish shafts; 
pileum and hind-neck chiefly rusty brown (nearly Prout’s brown) finely streaked with 
black; wings and tail brownish dusky, the former, both on remiges and covert feathers, 


1034 


The Pigeon Hawks 


crossed by numerous interrupted bars of whitish and tawny, the latter tipped with 
white and crossed with five prominent white bars; flight-feathers and tertials also tipped 
with white or grayish; underparts chiefly cream-buff as to ground, but white, immacu- 
late, on throat; jugulum finely pencilled and breast heavily streaked with sepia (each 
streak with darker shaft-line); sides and flanks still more broadly marked, or else 
sepia spotted with whitish; flags and posterior underparts sparsely pencilled with sepia 
or unmarked centrally; lores and a faintly defined superciliary buffy; forehead buffy 
white sharply streaked with black; sides of head and neck, forming transitional area, 
finely streaked buffy, rusty, sepia, and whitish in varying proportions. Adult female: 
“Differing in coloration from the male only in points of detail. Ground color of the 
upperparts clear grayish drab, the feathers with conspicuously black shafts; all the 
feathers with pairs of rather indistinct rounded ochraceous spots, these most conspic- 
uous on the wings and scapulars. Secondaries crossed with three bands of deeper, 
more reddish, ochraceous. Bands of the tail pure white. In other respects exactly 
like male’’ (Ridgway). Young birds are said to be more extensively rusty above, with 
broader and more reddish tail-bands, and to be unmarked on lower tail-coverts and 
crissum. Length 304.8-355.6 (12.00-14.00). Measurements of male: wing 195.6 
(7.70); tail 127 (5.00); bill 12.7 (.50); tarsus 33 (1.30). Female: wing 228.6 (9.00); 
tail 154.9 (6.10); bill 14 (.55); tarsus 35.6 (1.40). 

Recognition Marks.—Little hawk size; brownish cast of plumage above; 
heavy ochraceous spotting of wing (much more extensive than in Pigeon Hawk); 
tail crossed by s7x bands (including the terminal band). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: In cavity of tree or crevice 
of cliff; rarely of twigs in treetop. Eggs: 3 to 5; basally white or creamy buff, heavily 
sprinkled, spotted, and blotched with shades of cinnamon and rich chocolate. Eggs: 
Sometimes an exact miniature of those of F. peregrinus. Av. size 40.6 x 31.5 (1.60 
x 1.24). Season: May; one brood. 

Range of F. c. richardsonit.—Breeds in the Great Plains region from North Dakota 
and Montana to southern Alberta and central Saskatchewan. Occurs broadly during 
migrations, casually to the Pacific Coast; and winters south to Texas, Sonora and Lower 
California. 

s Occurrence in California.— Rare visitor in winter; three records: Kern County, 
Los Angeles County, and San Diego County. 

Authorities.—Henshaw (Falco columbarius, var. richardsoni), Rep. Orn. 
Wheeler Surv., 1876, p. 262 (Walker Basin, Kern Co.); Daggett, Condor, vol. vii., 1905, 
p- 82 (San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles Co.); Bishop, Condor, vol. vii., 1905, p. 142 
(Witch Creek, San Diego Co.); Tyler, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 197 (Mendota, 
Madera Co.). 


IF THE Northern Pigeon Hawk is a “‘collector’s bird,’ the Richard- 
son Merlin is a collector’s prize. Indeed, most of the Pigeon Hawks 
which are annually taken by collectors are shot in the hope that they may 
prove to be the rare richardsont. There is nothing to say of the bird’s 
behavior which would serve to distinguish it from the commoner species; 
and only the expert might guess that it was perhaps a little lighter in 
color. 


1035 


The American Kestrel 
No. 322 


American Kestrel 


A. O. U. No. 360. Cerchneis sparverius sparverius (Linneus). 

Synonyms.—Sparrow Hawk. Rusty-cROWNED FALCON. DESERT SPARROW 
HAwkK. 

Description.—Adult male: Top of head slaty blue, with a rufous crown- 
patch; sides of head and throat white, a black stripe from the lower eye-lid anteriorly, 
proceeding obliquely downward; a similar transverse bar on the side of the neck, and 
a dab on either side and sometimes in the middle of the cervix; back, scapulars, and tail 
rusty red; strong black bars in variable quantity across the middle of the back and lower 
scapulars, or rarely reaching cervix; a heavy subterminal black band on tail, the cen- 
tral feathers tipped with rufous and the others with white; the wing-coverts and inner 
quills (including secondaries) slaty blue, the former black-spotted and the latter crossed 
by a heavy black bar; primaries blackish, the point of wing formed by the 2nd and 3rd, 
the 1st sharply emarginate on the inner web, the 2nd slightly so; all the wing-quills 
heavily spotted with white on the inner webs, these spots confluent in bars on the 
under surface; below whitish or slightly tinged with buffy, immaculate on lower belly, 
flanks, and crissum; cross-barred with black on axillaries; heavily dusky-spotted on 
lining of wings; elsewhere (save on throat, as noted above) lightly tinged or heavily 
shaded with rufous,—the fore-breast usually but not always unmarked, the sides and 
middle belly very lightly or quite heavily spotted with black. Bill bluish black; cere 
and feet yellow. Young male: Similar to adult, but lower scapulars and wing-quills 
lightly tipped with white; not so heavily shaded with rufous below. Adult female: 
Subsimilar, but wings like the back; the black barring regular and continuous over 
entire back, wings (except quills), and tail, the tail having ten or twelve bars, but the 
subterminal bar often larger; barring indicated narrowly across upper tail-coverts; 
below ochraceous-tinged as to ground, heavily and boldly streaked on breast and sides 
with rusty brown; the sides sometimes barred with blackish. Young female: ‘‘Similar 
to adult, but colors softer, deeper, and more blended”’ (Ridgway). Adult male: length 
222.3-266.7 (8.75-10.50); av. of nine specimens: wing 183.9 (7.24); tail 117.6 (4.63); 
bill 12.7 (.50). Adult female: length 228.6-304.8 (9.00-12.00); av. of eight specimens: 
wing 190.5 (7-50); tail 128.5 (5.06); bill 13.2 (.52). 

Recognition Marks.—Robin size; but appearing larger. The black markings 
about head and rufous of upperparts distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: In hollow trees, often in deserted woodpecker holes or in 
crannies of cliffs. Eggs: 4 to 6; basally white, sprinkled, spotted, or blotched with 
cinnamon, orange-cinnamon, or dark rufous (kaiser brown), often uniformly washed 
with dilutions of the same pigments, or at least so heavily sprinkled as to appear uniform 
pinkish buff, pale pinkish buff, pinkish cinnamon, or orange-cinnamon. Av. of 16 
sets in the M. C. O. coll.: 34.5 x 27.7 (1.36 x 1.09); index 80. Season: April-June, 
according to altitude; one brood. 

Range of Cerchneis sparverius.—North and South America. 

Range of C. s. sparverius—North America. Breeds from central Yukon, 
northwestern Mackenzie, southern Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south to the Gulf 
States, Durango, and southern California. Winters from British Columbia, Colorado, 
Kansas, Ohio, and Massachusetts, south to Guatemala and Costa Rica. 


1036 


The American Kestrel 


Distribution in California.—Resident. Of general occurrence throughout the 
State, breeding from lowest ‘“‘Sonoran’’ deserts up irregularly through Canadian zone, 
where numbers dwindle rapidly. Numbers considerably augmented in winter both by 
reason of retreat from the higher levels and by invasion from the northern interior. 


Authorities.—Vigors (Falco sparverius), Zool. Voy. ‘Blossom,’ 1839, p. 15 
(Montery): Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 115, pl. 17 (food); Azsing, 
Condor, vol. iii., 1901, p. 129 (nesting habits near Santa Monica); Grinnell, Univ. 
Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xii., 1914, p. 126 (Colorado Val.; crit.; syst.) ; Wetmore, Condor, 
vol. xvili., 1916, p. 112 (speed of flight). 


THE NAME “Sparrow’’ Hawk, though not alto- 
gether undeserved, is in its application to this bird mis- 
leading. The appellation distinctly be- 
longs, rather, to a remote kinsman, the 
so-called Sharp-shinned Hawk (Ac- 
cipiter velox), who is the 
bird-killer par excellence. 
Moreover, the word Hawk 
should never be applied to 
a Falcon. Far better is the 
Old World habit of individ- 
ualizing the Falcons, and 
of giving each a distinctive 
name, such as Lanner, @ 
Hobby, Merlin, ete. The ‘ 
proper name for Cerchneis 
Ss. Sparverius is the American Kestrel; or, for 
local use, simply Kestrel. This, we know, is a 
counsel of perfection, for the American people are 
as little likely to correct an error in nomenclature, 
once established, as they are to revise the Constitution. 

Kestrel, or Sparrow Hawk, then, this handsome 
little Falcon is unquestionably the best known, as it is 
the most abundant, bird of prey in the West. While it 
shows a preference for open situations, its breeding 
range extends from the Colorado Desert, at points be- 
low the level of the sea, to the forests of Humboldt and 
Del Norte counties, and to the limit of trees in the 
Sierras. It is equally at home in the sahuaro patches 
bordering upon the Colorado River, the oak groves of 
San Luis Obispo, the rocky defiles of San Diego County, 
or the pines of Modoc. Commanding points of rock 
are sure to be worn smooth by the clasp of many 


Taken in Oregon Photo by A. W. Anthony 
AMERICAN KESTREL 


1637 


The American Kestrel 


Taken in Riverside County Photo by the Author 
A DETERMINED INVESTIGATION 


sharp-spurred claws, and tree-tops serve for sentry boxes whenever the 
birds pass that way. Telegraph poles are regarded as a special con- 
venience, since they traverse the treeless stretches which afford no other 
watch-tower; but fence-posts will suffice in default of more elevated 
stations. From such points of vantage as these the birds attentively 
watch the happenings on the ground, and dive down whenever they 
consider that their presence is needed by mouse or grasshopper. 

The Falcon trusts, so far as his prey is concerned, to his elevated 
position, and does not hesitate to glance freely from side to side; while the 
wayfarer is regarded as likely as not with a frank curiosity not unmingled 
with friendliness. 

Much time is spent, also, upon the wing, not circling after the manner 
of Accipiters and Buteos, but in passing rapidly over the scene, or else 
flying slowly but directly over such promising areas as grassy meadows 
and fallow fields. Now and again the bird checks itself suddenly and 
pauses at a good height to study a suspicious movement in the grass below. 
It will thus flutter over one spot for a minute at a time, and then pass 
on disappointed, or else pounce suddenly upon its prey and bear it off to 


1038 


The American Kestrel 


some elevated perch for quiet consumption. When the wind is blowing 
strongly, the Hawk no longer flutters at its critical stops but only balances 
upon the wind, so nicely, indeed, that its wings are almost motionless. 

It is this custom which has earned for his European brothers such 
picturesque names as Windhover and Standgale. 

One must envy the marvelous eyesight which enables a flying bird 
to detect such humble quarry as a cricket from a height of fifty or eighty 
feet. Yet the bird, like the modern air-man, is made to realize that 
appearances are sometimes deceptive. At Pizmo I saw a Sparrow Hawk 
launch from a telephone wire, seize a brown object from the ground, and 
rise with unwonted ease. The bird himself realized that there was some- 
thing wrong, and when he discovered that he held a dried “‘horse bun”’ 
in his talons, he dropped it in disgust. The humble counterfeit had 
probably been stirred by the wind to a life-like activity. 

Always graceful, the Sparrow Hawk is seen to best advantage during 
the courting season, when the male reaffirms his fondness for his life-long 
mate by circling about her as she sits upon the tree-top; or he measures 
the height of his devotion by ascending to the clouds before her, and 
dashing himself at her feet again with shrill cries of Killy, killy, killy. To 
hear the snarling clamor of the birds, one would think that they were not 


Taken in Riverside Counly 


Photo by the Author “BRINGING IN THE BACON” 


THE STUB YIELDED A HANDSOME SET, 
N/5, OF THE KESTREL 


1039 


The American Kestrel 


getting on nicely; but this is a mistake, for the high-pitched conversation 
is really very amiable in character, and neither bird would think of parting 
from its consort, for however brief a space of time, without a screamed 
farewell of unquestionable tenderness. 

Sparrow Hawks nest in holes in trees when these are convenient, 
using either natural cavities or the deserted tenements of flickers and 
other woodpeckers. The 
higher these rented quarters, 
the better the birds are satis- 
fied, but holes not over four 
feet from the ground are of 
record. In default of such 
accommodations, old mag- 
pies’ nests, or even open- 
topped crows’ nests have 
been utilized; but a more 
common expedient is to re- 
sort to the romantic crannies 
and hidey-holes of the rocky 
cliffs. In such situations this 
diminutive falcon appears to 
recall his noble ancestry; and 
I have fancied that he was 
here a shade more valiant 
in defense of his young. 
Certainly the Red-tail does 
not care for that particular 
stretch of cliff; and the Prairie 
Falcon seems to regard the 
lesser spit-fire with quaint 
indulgence, orelse to treat him 
with that magnanimous un- 
concern which a Newfound- 
land shows to a terrier. 

On Santa Cruz Island I 
once found a pair of Kestrels 
nesting in a tunnel in an 
earth-bank, excavated, no 

Qe doubt, by a pair of hard- 
ra  - ae Sis ea working Flickers (Colaptes 
Tarenenithesene Photo by D.R. Dickey &4°Gfer collaris) who occupied 

NEST AND EGGS OF AMERICAN KESTREL fresher quarters hard by. And 


1640 


The American Kestrel | 
getting on nicely; but this is a mistake, for the high-pitched conversation 
is really very amiable in character, and neithér bird would think of parting 
from its consort, for however brief a space of time, without a screamed 
iarewell of unquestionable tenderness. 
Sparrow Hawks nest in holes in trees when these are convenient, 
using either natural cavities or the deserted tenements of flickers’ and 
other woodpeckers. The 
higher these rented quarters, 
whe better the birds are satis- 
Aon. Tht holes wot over four 
fram the ground are of 
ah. Pp eifaule af such 
comssdadons,. alt mag- 
AES Or Eyer open- 
t crows omests have 
een ulsiiged; but a more 
orion expedient is to re- 
6 the romantic crannies 
and hidey-holes of the rocky 
j In such situations this 
diminutive falcon appears to 
esthelsi| his noble ancestry; and 
t% liféisize: fancied that he was 
here a shade more valiant 
in defense of his young. 
Certainly the Red-tail does 
not care for that particular 
stretch of cliff: and the Prairie 
Puleoa sous ta regard the 
ky shit-kee with @waint 
treat him 
thal iagnanimous un- 
4 whith a Nowtound- 
th a terrier, 
Sauta Cruz Island 1 
min a pair of Kestrels 
in a tunnel in an 
excavated, ~no 
doubt, by a pair of hard-’ 
working Flickers (Colaptes 
sgajer collaris) who occupied 
fresher quarters hard by. And = 9°) 


PENG 


The American Kestrel 


at Cholame we discovered wolves in a sheep cote, or in other words, a 
pair of Sparrow Hawks nesting in a dove cote. The doves did not seem 
to fear the intruders, and it is possible that they enjoyed a certain immun- 
ity, not only from these, but from other birds of prey, on account of 
their presence. 

The eggs, which seldom have any softer resting place than chips and 
stones, or the rotten wood which the woodpeckers have left them, are 
among the handsomest of odlogical treasures. The lime of the shell, still 
plastic, has been generously sprinkled with cinnamon, and a warm glow 
imparted to the whole. It is not improbable, however, that we see in the 
case of these eggs the incipient workings of nature’s inexorable economy. 
The eggs of all hole-nesting species are either white or tend to revert to 
white. Now Falcons’ eggs are normally very richly colored, sometimes 
almost solid red. Eggs of the Sparrow Hawk, however, average much 
lighter in coloration than those of any other American Falcon. A set, 
1/5-o1 in the M. C. O. collection, taken by Evan Davis near East Orange, 
is almost unmarked. This was taken from a deep cavity in a hollow 
sycamore; whereas the most heavily colored set in the collection, 10/5-12, 
was taken in a comparatively open situation, viz., a deserted nest of the 
Yellow-billed Magpie (Pica nuttall1) near Shandon. 

We are indebted to a fellow member of the Cooper Ornithological 
Club, Miss Althea R. Sherman, of National, lowa, for a model study of the 
nesting habits of the American Sparrow Hawk.! From this excellent 
paper we learn that eggs are deposited on alternate days, and that incu- 
bation requires 29 or 30 days. Incubation is almost wholly performed 
by the female, and upon her devolves the protection of the nesting site, 
and all immediate ministration to the young. The male bird faithfully 
provides food both for their young and for his mate, turning his successive 
catches over to the latter at an appointed rendezvous, or else meeting her 
in midair at some distance from the nest. Food, in the instance under 
observation, consisted chiefly of meadow mice, birds (fledglings for the 
most part), insects, and ground squirrels. Most of the prey was skinned 
or well plucked before being presented to the young, and rended, or not, 
according to their stage of development. Birds were headless, tailless, 
and wingless, as well as carefully plucked. Birds nesting in the immediate 
vicinity were not molested, and the falcons appeared to wish to live on 
good terms with their neighbors. 

The young birds did not fight for food in the presence of their mother, 
but she apportioned to the females a notably larger share, and they soon 
manifested a fiercer disposition and dominant qualities. At the time they 
left the nest, 26 to 28 days after hatching, the females weighed twenty 


1“The Auk,” Vol. XXX., July, 1913, pp. 406-418. 


TO4I 


The American Kestrel 


per cent more than their brothers (using the male weight as a base of 
reference). 

Miss Sherman’s painstaking study is of exceptional value in its 
implied suggestion that the dominance of the female among Raptors may 
be due to selective feeding. Verily the hand that rocks the cradle rules 
the world. Brethren, we must make our peace with these ladies, or— 
Quien sabe? 

The question of the Sparrow Hawk’s food is one of considerable 
importance. That it does occasionally eat birds there can be no doubt. I 
have several times frightened a Sparrow Hawk from a quarry of young 
Meadowlarks; and once, at Goose Lake, found the Kestrel making a 
luncheon off an adult female Brewer Blackbird. In the latter case the 
head had already been eaten, with the exception of the bill. When a 
questing Sparrow Hawk finds a fledgling, it is likely to return and clean 
up the brood. Yet the preponderance of testimony is overwhelmingly in 
favor of the “Sparrow”? Hawk. The consumption of birds seems to be 
largely a matter of individual taste. The toll taken is not large, and it is 
probable that bird-killing is indulged only at critical seasons, such as the 
period of maximum demand on the part of young, and the winter season 
when other food may be scarce. Ordinarily the smaller birds do not seem 
to fear the Sparrow Hawk, and they will flit about a tree which contains 
this watchful Falcon with perfect unconcern. 

Without question, insects, such as grasshoppers, beetles, and crickets, 
form the chief articles of Sparverian diet; while spiders, lizards, shrews, 
meadow mice, and small snakes are seized as occasion offers. The minis- 
trations of the Sparrow Hawk, the American Kestrel, are exceedingly 
beneficial to the farmer. 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Pholo by the Author 
SUNSET ON THE PALOPRIETA 


1042 


The Audubon Caracara 


No. 323 


Audubon’s Caracara 


A. O. U. No. 362. Polyborus cheriway auduboni Cassin. 

Description.—A dults (sexes alike): Crown, nape, and general body plumage 
black; foreparts, narrowly, except crown, pale ochraceous or creamy buff, immaculate 
anteriorly, finely barred with black in increasing abundance until complete transition 
is effected on back and breast; under tail-coverts tipped distally with black; basal 
portion of tail and concealed portions of wing-quills similarly cream-buff or dingy 
white, obscurely barred with black. ‘‘Bill variously pale colored; cere carmine; iris 
brown; feet yellow; claws black; soft parts [i. e., exposed anterior portion of face] 
drying to a dingy indefinable color’? (Coues). Young birds resemble adults, but are 
brownish black, the markings lengthwise in streaks instead of bars, save on tail where 
conspicuously barred. Length of adult 609.6 (24.00) or less; wing up to 419.1 (16.50); 
tail 203.2-254 (8.00-10.00); culmen 34.3 (1.35); tarsus 91.4 (3.60). 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size; contrasting black of body-color and crown 
with light buffy of foreparts and circular investiture of bars on breast, sides of neck, 
and back unmistakable. Anterior portion of head without feathers. Deportment 
varied and often unhawklike. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California. Nest: Of sticks or twigs lined 
with usnea or grass, and placed indifferently in trees, sahuaros, or sturdy shrubs. 
Eggs: 2 or 3; basally buffy white or pinkish white, but usually completely buried under 
pigment of the richest rufous (carob brown) washing to sayal brown, russet, or walnut- 
brown,—the darkest of falconine eggs. Av. size 60 x 47 (2.36 x 1.85); index 78.3. 
Season: Feb. 15~April, according to altitude. 

Range of Polyborus cheriway.—Southern portion of United States south to 
Guiana, Venezuela, and Ecuador. 

Range of P. c. auduboni—The southern border of the southwestern states 
from Arizona to Texas and south to Central America. Accidental in California. 

Occurrence in California.—Accidental. One record: bird well observed by 
Prof. Harold Heath and W. W. Curtner near Monterey ‘‘in the winter of 1916.” 

Authorities—Heermann (Polyborus tharus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. x., 
1859, p. 30 (Colorado River, near Ft. Yuma); Baird, Brewer, and Ridgway, Hist. N. 
Am. Birds, vol. iii., 1874, p. 178 (syn., desc., habits, etc.; Calif. occurrence); Heath, 
Condor, vol. xxi.,.1919, p. 125 (near Monterey, during February, 1916). 


A MARKED CHARACTER is that of Polyborus cheriway audubont, 
and its accidental occurrence near Monterey! affords us a welcome excuse 
to consider it as a bird of California. The Caracara is neither a hawk nor 
a vulture nor an eagle, although he is each by turns, and he figures in the 
last-named capacity upon the coat-of-arms of Mexico. Supported 
vaguely by a cactus, the intrepid bird is there represented as seizing a 
serpent, presumably a rattler, somewhere near the nape of the neck (but 
not too near to give the squirming reptile a sporting chance). That the 


1 Harold Heath in The Condor, Vol. XXI., May, 1919, p. 123. 


1643 


The Osprey 


Caracara is a ‘‘terror to snakes’’ there can be no question, nor that he isa 
terror to lambs in their tender youth, and a terror to humans after he has 
been banqueting upon the remains of a silent but unforgetable cow. 

The Caracara is a comparatively active bird both on the wing and 
on the ground. Its wing action is rapid, but its progress is scarcely 
commensurate with the appearance of effort. The rather elongated tarsus 
fits the bird for walking, and it seems to spend a good deal of time on 
the ground, where it seizes beetles and lizards, as well as snakes and 
rodents. Dr. Merrill! has described its pursuit of a jack rabbit. The 
quarry was not secured by a stoop or pounce, as of falcon or redtail; 
the rabbit was simply pursued through its devious twistings and bound- 
ings until overtaken—fair sport, it must be confessed. According to the 
same authority, no lucky captor, whether of snake or field mouse, was left 
in undisturbed possession. For if one of its companions spied it, a chase 
and a squabble followed. 

The Caracaras do not bear a good reputation with the smaller feath- 
ered fraternity. If one attempts to alight in a mesquite tree at nesting 
time, it is immediately set upon by the lesser fry and pestered until it is 
glad to escape. Once I saw a young Caracara which endeavored to stand 
its ground under the assaults of an irate shrike. The Buzzard was a 
youngster or he would have known better. His head was small; his 
“build”? was lean, almost emaciated, ‘“‘high hung,” too, like a Shanghai 
cockerel. As often as the shrike struck, the hawk ducked his head and 
lurched forward upon his absurdly long shanks, and just as we looked to see 
him topple over, caught himself midair with a suddenly flared tail. 

Under persecution, such as is the inevitable portion of every bird of 
prey, the Caracara has learned cunning. He is both shy and wary, and 
he knows the meaning of a gun all too well. Their numbers are steadily 
decreasing in the United States, but further south, where their services 
as scavengers are more highly valued, they are likely to maintain them- 
selves for years to come. 


No. 324 


Osprey 


A. O. U. No. 364. Pandion haliaétus carolinensis (Gmelin). 

Synonym.—FisH Hawk. 

Description.—Adult male: Upperparts dark brown (with considerable varia- 
bility of individual feathers as in the Golden Eagle); tip of wing lustrous black; tail 


1 Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, Vol. VII., 1882, p. 173. 


1044 


The Osprey 


crossed by six or eight dusky bars, the alternate spaces grayish brown on the outer 
webs, whitish on the inner; head and neck chiefly white, the crown black or black- 
striped centrally; nape narrowly and cervix centrally black-striped; an irregular dusky 
band proceeding backward from eye; feathers of occiput loosely ruffled, or presenting 
a crested appearance; underparts white, sometimes rufous-spotted on breast, but usually 
immaculate; lining of wing mottled,—white and fuscous near edge, remainder white 
or buffy, dusky-barred distally; bill and claws black; cere and base of bill bluish black; 
feet bluish gray; iris yellow and red. Adult female: Similar but breast heavily marked 
with yellowish brown or fuscous. Immature: Like adult, but feathers of upper- 
parts bordered terminally with white or buffy. The same distinction obtains between 
the sexes as in case of adults. Length 533.4-635 (21.00-25.00); wing 431.8-520.7 
(17.00-20.50); tail 177.8-254 (7.00-10.00); culmen 30.5-35.6 (1.20-1.40). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; extensive white below distinctive for this 
group; labored flight; river-, lake-, and ocean-haunting ways. 

Nesting.— Nest: An immense mass of sticks, broad-topped, lined centrally 
with bark-strips and soft materials; placed on top of trees of various heights, or on 
isolated rocks of rivers, ete. Eggs: 2 to 4; dull or buffy white, heavily spotted, 
blotched, or overspread with chocolate; rarely almost or quite unmarked. Avy. size 
62.2 x 46 (2.45 x 1.81). Season: May 1-20; one brood. 

Range of Pandion haliaétus.—Nearly cosmopolitan. Wanting only in the colder 
Arctic regions, the southern portion of South America, and New Zealand. 

Range of P. h. carolinensis —North and South America; breeds from north- 
western Alaska, northwestern Mackenzie, central Keewatin, southern Ungava, and 
Newfoundland, south to the Gulf Coast, western Mexico, and Lower California. 
Winters from the southern United States south through middle America and sparingly 
to Peru and Paraguay. 

Occurrence in California.—Fairly common during migrations, especially 
interiorly. Breeds sparingly upon the Santa Barbara Islands and in a few localities 
along the seacoast north to Humboldt Bay. Has bred also at Eagle Lake, on the 
Kaweah River near Woodlake, Tulare County (Tyler), and probably at Goose Lake 
(June, 1913). Winters very sparingly along the seacoast (records from Farallon 
Islands, Santa Cruz Island, Santa Barbara (March 18, 1921), and San Diego. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Pandion carolinensis), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
ili., 1846, p. 45 (Catalina Id., etc.) ; Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 130, pl. 
18, (food, etc.); Sheldon, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 187 (Eagle Lake; desc. nests) ; Grin- 
nell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. II, 1915, p. 69 (Calif. status); Howell, Pac. Coast Avi- 
fauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 58 (s. Calif. ids.). 


WHETHER or not fish is proper brain food depends, as some one has 
wittily remarked, ‘‘more upon the brain than it does upon the fish.” An 
exclusive diet of fish has not made the Fish Hawks either brainy or 
valiant. We need not be troubled on the latter score, though, for in a 
family where prowess and tyranny are almost synonymous, it is a com- 
fort to find birds who mind their own business and exhibit a proper 
humility. Ospreys are simple-hearted, honest folk, and they deserve 
protection, if for no better reason, simply because they are inoffensive and 
picturesque. The fact that these birds require a few edible fish for their 


1045 


The Osprey 


annual support has greatly preyed upon the minds of certain men who 
reckon their own catch by the hundred-weight; and a cruel persecution 
has broken out in some quarters, persecution as senseless as it is selfish. 
No true sportsman, however, will begrudge to this bird his hard-earned 
catch, taken by a plunge and strike, which is, if anything, rather more 
sportsmanlike than the use of line and lure. 

The Osprey preys exclusively upon fish, and covers long stretches of 
water in its tireless search. It flies along at a height of fifty or a hundred 
feet above the water, and when its finny prey is sighted, pauses for a 
moment on hovering wings, then drops with a resounding splash, often 
quite disappearing beneath the water, but rising again quickly with a fish 
firmly secured in its talons. The bird upon rising immediately adjusts 
the catch, placing it head foremost, so that it will offer the least resistance 
to the air in flight. Not infrequently the hawk secures a fish which it is 
barely able to handle, and occasionally it strikes one so large that it is 
drawn under and drowned before it can disengage its claws. 

Clear water is essential to the Osprey’s success, for he must needs see 
and strike from afar. The bird has little use, therefore, for the silt-stained 
waters of the lowlands, and it avoids the storm-tossed waters of our west- 
ern coast. The more placid seas which surround our southern islands, 
San Clemente, Catalina, and the rest, afford a congenial summer home; 
and a few linger here through the winter. In the interior, the Osprey 
is likely to show up almost anywhere during the spring migrations, espe- 
cially along the north-and-south-trending valleys, such as the Sacra- 
mento, Owens River, and the Colorado. A few breed in the lower 
Sierran valleys, and Ospreys have been seen in summer on Goose Lake. 
Doubtless many of the larger lakes and rivers of California formerly 
boasted their local Fish Hawks, but the only remaining stronghold of this 
species in the interior appears to be Eagle Lake, whose comparative inac- 
cessibility, coupled with an abundance of suitable nesting sites, has held a 
good population. In 1914 Milton S. Ray, visiting Eagle Lake in company 
with Mr. Chase Littlejohn, saw five nests, all in the tops of dead pine 
trees, and surmised the presence of many more. 

A typical Osprey’s nest is a huge aggregation of sticks, bark, and 
trash; and is placed either on the top of a broken pine or fir stub or else 
lodged on some convenient cliff or isolated spur of rock. If the rock or 
tree is surrounded by water, so much the better, for it assures immunity 
from predatory mammals, including, to some degree, their worst enemy, 
man. Persecution, however, sometimes drives the birds to the deep 
woods, miles from their fishing grounds. A normal nest is flat on top, 
three or four feet across, and from three to seven in depth, according 
to age. Within a little depression in the center of the platform, sur- 


1646 


The Osprey 


rounded by soft materials, lie two or three eggs of moderate size, rich 
chocolate on a tinted ground. If the female is on, the male, tired of fish- 
ing, is likely to be standing at her side. Both birds will rise upon our 
approach, and will poise in midair above our heads, suspicious of odlogical 
intent, and uttering, therefore, feeble screams, or “‘whistles,’’ of protest, 
ki-tk, ki-tk, ki-tk. 

Ospreys’ eggs are unquestionably among the handsomest known. <A 
particular description of their lavenders and verona browns and choco- 
lates might excite undue envy, and I have no desire to add to the burden 
of the long-suffering Osprey. Odlogical depredations in the case of this 
species have gone quite far enough, and the aggregate of takes boasted by 
some eastern collectors makes the heart sick. For example, a collector 
having the range of the Long Island Sound region once assured me that 
he had robbed six hundred Ospreys’ nests in his day. 

The home life of the Osprey is ideal, and the nesting Osprey deserves 
protection, if for no better reason, because of the conspicuous devotion 
of the male bird to his mate and young, and because of the touching 
obedience of the latter. In this connection I cannot do better than quote 
a paragraph from Mr. Skinner’s excellent account! in ‘“The Condor”’: 

“The careful training that young Ospreys receive is further shown 
when a nest is approached. On hearing the whistled alarm given by a 
parent, usually the mother, the young birds throw themselves flat on the 
floor of the nest, often with necks and wings outstretched. When the 
observer reaches the nest, no movement is to be seen: the nestlings permit 
one to take them up, turn them over, or place them in any position without 
offering any sign of life beyond the half open, staring eyes. After the nest 
is left the young Ospreys maintain their position until the parents have 
given the reassuring signal. I have seen half-grown Ospreys hold this 
inert posture for an hour and twenty minutes while the parents were flying 
about or even standing on the edge of the nest, but no motion whatever 
was made until the proper signal was sounded. Young Ospreys are not 
fast growers, but at ten days of age begin to show black on the primaries; 
and ten days later more distinctive markings begin to appear. From 
thirty-five to forty-five days after hatching they leave the nest fullv 
feathered and strong of wing.” 

The American Osprey, carolinensis, is a geographical race of a species 
which enjoys a nearly cosmopolitan distribution. Unlike its sisters, 
haliaétus haliaétus of Europe, and h. leucocephalus of Australia, the 
American Osprey has never been known to prey upon other birds. It feeds 
exclusively upon fish, and enjoys an almost unexampled reputation for 
harmlessness among its feathered neighbors. On the Atlantic Coast the 


1 The Ospreys of the Yellowstone, by Mr. P. Skinner, Condor, Vol. XIX., July, 1917, pp. 117-121. 


1647 


The White-tailed Kite 


Purple Grackles, attracted no doubt by the surplus of fish which this 
doughty fisher provides, lodge their nests unrebuked in the substructure 
of their patrons’ palace. In Washington I have found both Magpies and 
Western Kingbirds enjoying a like privilege. 


No. 325 


White-tailed Kite 


A. O. U. No. 328. Elanus axillaris majusculus Bangs and Penard. 
Synonym.—BLACK-SHOULDERED KITE. 


Description.—Adult: Above ashy blue or deep pearl-gray, paling on crown, 
tips of tertials, upper tail-coverts and central pair of tail-feathers; a large black patch 
on wing, embracing lesser and middle coverts, sooty black; forehead, sides of head, 
tail (except central pair of feathers) and entire underparts, pure white, or sometimes 
tinged with pearly-gray on breast; also a small black patch on distal portion of under 
wing-coverts; shafts of primaries and tail-feathers brown above, white below; tail 
notched for half an inch or so. Bill and claws black; cere and feet yellow. Young: 
“Marked with dusky and reddish brown; wing-feathers white-tipped; tail feathers with 
a subterminal ashy bar’’ (Coues). Length 393.7-431.8 (15.50-17.00) ; wing 320 (12.60); 
tail 183 (7.20); bill 18.6 (.73); tarsus 37.5 (1.48). Female averages larger than male. 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; easy graceful flight; light coloration, gray and 
white, with contrasting black on shoulder, unmistakable. 

Remarks.—It is with no little hesitation that I have adopted, in departure 
from the usage and canons of the American Ornithologists’ Union, a modification of 
the name proposed for the White-tailed Kite by Messrs. Bangs and Penard. Of the 
justice of the claim for distinction of the California bird from the Pan-American bird, 
Elanus leucurus, 1 am not prepared to speak. Conceding its validity, its claim to 
rating as a subspecies falls under the discussion following; and I have deliberately 
changed the name “‘Elanus leucurus majusculus Bangs and Penard”’ to ‘‘Elanus axillaris 
majusculus Bangs and Penard,”’ since there is no way (by parenthesis or otherwise) 
by which the responsibility of ‘‘Bangs and Penard”’ for axillaris may be disclaimed, 
save by express mention. For according to the older and stricter interpretation, only 
those forms may be grouped together as subspecies between which ‘“‘intergradation,”’ 
or progressive shifting of characters, is known to exist. According to this interpre- 
tation, also, cognate forms whose neighborly (or shall we say cousinly?) relationships 
have been sundered, whether by persistent custom or by the interposition of geograph- 
ical barriers, must be reckoned as full species, if their difference is to be reckoned at all. 
But it must be confessed that the rigid application of this rule has led us into all sorts 
of inconsistencies. Disguise it how we may, a name, whether binomial or trinomial, 
is a value judgment, and it carries with it quantitative as well as qualitative impli- 
cations. But these quantitative implications we disregarded in defiance alike of our 
sense of fitness and convenience, when highly diversified forms, as for example, Sphy- 
rapicus varius and Sphyrapicus ruber (i.e., S. varius ruber of some authorities), are 
yoked together as one species simply because they exhibit a perfect intergradation; 
while other forms differing ever so slightly, as for example, Rallus levipes and Rallus 


1648 


‘The White-tailed Kite 


Purple Grackles, attracted no doubt by the surplus of fish which this 
doughty fisher provides, lodge their nests unrebuked in the substructure 
of their patrons’ palace. In Washington I have found both Magpies and 
Western Kingbirds enjoying a like privilege. 


No, 325 
White-tailed Kite 


A. 0. U. No. 328. Elanus astilavis majesculus Gangs and Penard. 

Synonym.—Bisack-sHOULbEsEs Kris. 

Description.—-Adull: Above ashy fae of deep pearl-gray, paling on crown, 
tips of tertials, upper tail-caverts aud cenical yair of tail-feathers; a large black patch 
om wing, embracing lesser and nudeie <overts, sooty black; forehead, sides of head, 
tail fexcept central pdir of featke entire underparts, pure white, or sometimes 
tinged with pearly-gray on breaxr: * small black pateh on distal portion of under 
wing-coverts; shafts of primaries and tail-feathers brown above, white below; tail 
notched for half an inch cr so. Bili and claws black; cere and feet yellow. Young: 
“Marked with dusky aid redaish brown; wing-feathers white-tipped; tail feathers with 


a subterminal ashy Dar’ (Coues), Length 393.7-431.8 (15.50-17.00); wing 320 (12.60); : 


fail, 183 (7.20); BiH £8.6 (C73); tarsus 37.5 © 48). Female averages larger than male. 

Recognitien Marks.  \White-t ailed Kite’ light coloration, gray and 
white, with contrasting black on shouider, unmista 

Remarks —Ic is with no litte Mbevta@dliferte 1 have adopted, in departure 
fo od a nonFrem awater-color painting by Allan Brooks modification of 
the same preposed for the White-tailed Kite by Messrs. Bangs and Penard. Of the 
justice of the claim for distinction of the California bird from the Pan-American bird, 
Rlazus fewoetus. § am not prepared to speak,  Conceding its validity, its claim to 


rafting as a =dhenectes falls under the discussion fallawing; and | have detiberately— 


na Bietus lencveus majusculus Bangs and Perard’”’ ta “Leive apdiards 
avge awd Menard. since there ig no way {hy parenthesis an otherwise) 
‘ peleed Denard’ for axieris may be disclaimed; 

¥s ider and stricter interpretation, only 
ashame Retween which “‘intergradation, ’ 
tg exat According to this interpre- 


changed ty 
EIRENE wd 
HY Ghee sa 


Sie ig ge 8 Sheep 


ave ibe. 2 Aas Fee 9 phe 


¥ the interposition of geograph- 
préeace is to be reckoned at all: 
#4 hie tule has led us inte all sorts. 
“se whether binomial or trinomial, 
S:¢oive as well as qualitative impli- 
ay clieegarded in defiance alike of our 


Phat wa Seas 


itiote 


Re ee ee eae ‘ «<afed forms, as for example, Sphy- 
aypire weeiRs 5. jserts Fuler of some authorities), are 


yates Higeches j-nuae ‘Hew exhibit a perfect intergradation; 


Wile ate Kemic = 


* 


78 


shah ae sav cousinty?) relationships . 


site, <p for example, Rallus levipes and Rellus 


The White-tailed Kite 


obsoletus, are reckoned separate species, simply because of isolation, or because of the 
extirpation of intermediate links. 

The rise and spread of world ornithology is pressing this inconsistency home and 
is leading to revolt. We are awakening to a knowledge of the fact that widely sepa- 
rated forms, forms which we had comfortably regarded as distinct species, are in reality 
very similar. Apart from the tact of geographical separation, their quantitative 
difference is as slight as that often found in contiguous subspecies. The inference, 
then, is plain. We have been allowing our rigid and artificial canons of nomenclature 
to blind us to important facts of relationship. We have strained out taxonomic gnats 
and swallowed phylogenetic camels. There is now manifest a frank revulsion against 
this sort of thing, and a tendency to assign purely quantitative values to the concepts 
of species and subspecies. 

The case of Elanus leucurus (Vieillot) and Elanus axillaris (Latham) is a perfect 
case in point. The form leucurus, as originally characterized, is confined to the Ameri- 
cas; the form axillaris (described before Jewcurws and so taking precedence over it) 
is confined to the Continent of Australia. Earth’s widest ocean rolls between them. 
And yet a candid comparison of the two forms showsa very slight quantitative difference. 
If they had been found occupying, say, East and West Australia, respectively, they 
would be described as swb-species, and their intergradation would be assumed. The 
name Elanus axillaris leucurus (for the South American bird) violates the letter of the 
older canon, but it recognizes a vital fact of relationship, an unquestionable fact of 
close phylogenetic relationship, which is all the more impressive because of a wide 
geographical separation between the two forms. 

Itis easy to predict that more orless exact quantitative values will eventually be 
assigned to the concepts of species and subspecies; and the necessity of recognizing 
mergent forms or form-groups will be met some other way. 

Nesting.— Nest: A bulky mass of sticks and twigs more or less deeply cupped, 
and lined or not with grasses; placed near top of tree, preferably live oak, and well 
concealed. Eggs: 3 to 5, usually 4; white or buffy white, heavily blotched and cloud- 
ed, often completely overlaid with chestnut-brown or rich dark rufous (carob brown). 
Av. size 42 x 33.5 (1.65 x 1.32). Season: March 15~April; one brood. 

Range of Elanus axillaris. North and South America and Australia.—In North 
America chiefly confined to California, Texas, Oklahoma, South Carolina, and Florida; 
casual in the other Gulf States and north to Illinois. Winters in Florida and California 
and casually (?) south to.Guatemala. 

Range of E. a. majusculus (Wholly confined to California)—Resident, rare; 
formerly common. Found in Upper Sonoran and coastal valleys west of the Sierras 
from Sonoma County and Red Bluff (Tehama County) south to San Diego. 

Authorities.—Gambel, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. iii., 1846, p. 44 (near 
Monterey); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 23 (food); Barlow, Auk, vol. 
xiv., 1897, p. 14 (Santa Clara Co.; habits, nest and eggs, etc.); Cowes, Auk, vol. xiv., 
1897, p. 216 (nomencl.); Bangs and Penard, Proc. New Engl. Zool. Club, vol. vii., 
1920, p. 47 (syst.; desc. of Elanus leucurus majusculus, type locality, San Rafael, Calif.). 


RECENT ornithological literature bristles with records of occur- 
rences of the White-tailed Kite, once upon the verge of extinction, but, 
now, it is believed, being slowly nursed back into life. The cause of the 
near tragedy, now hopefully averted, was expressed several years ago by 


1649 


The White-tailed Kite 


Dr. Grinnell:! “‘With no doubt whatever, the present rarity of this hawk 
in California is due to the associational preference for marshes, where its 
habit of flying slowly back and forth at a moderate height above the 
ground in the lookout for meadow mice and insects makes it an easy target 
for the thoughtless gunner. In my experience the average sportsman is 
still unenlightened enough to shoot down any sort of ‘hawk’ that flies his 
way, provided game is not at the moment expected.’’ Yet this is the bird 
of which Cooper (following Heermann) could write in the Sixties:2 ‘‘This 
beautiful and harmless species is quite abundant in the middle districts of 
California, remaining in large numbers during winter among the extensive 
tule marshes of the Sacramento and other valleys.” 

The slender, graceful proportions of this bird are not provided in 
order that the owner may excel in speed, for it never catches anything 
a-wing more important than insects, but rather that it may maintain 
itself aloft with ease, and prosper in the eyes of its fellows. The White- 
tailed Kite, although the soul of modesty in other respects, is quite aware 
of his skill as an acrobat and takes conscious delight in doing perfectly 
needless stunts for the edification and envy of the beholder. On the 
other hand, partly by reason of its superb equipment, its ordinary soaring 
or fluttering flight may appear a little labored; and when it stops suddenly 
midair with a great fanfare of wings, one imagines that its engine is missing 
or that it is going to do a tail-spin, whereas the bird only wishes to inspect 
a lowly crawling cricket. This Kite is by nature unsuspicious, or even 
confiding; but gunfire has taught it some discretion, and as often as a 
human appears, the bird edges away without undue evidence of alarm. 
When disturbed, it is likely to give vent to a peculiar penetrating cry 
(miscalled a whistle) cléwk-cléwk. The color-pattern of the bird, black 
and white and gray, makes it the most conspicuous of hawks; and nature 
never intended that hostile attention should be provoked by its inno- 
cent gambols. 

White-tailed Kites are more or less gregarious, getting along quite 
amicably with their fellows, even in the breeding season. Their presence 
would be a benediction to the farmer, for their prey consists entirely of 
rats, snakes, gophers, mice, and any other of the gnawing gentry, besides 
a few frogs, crickets, and grasshoppers. If we could persuade ourselves 
to regard our own welfare, this altogether desirable citizen might even 
yet be restored to the exercise of his ancient franchise. We bird-lovers 
will stuff the ballot box, if need be, in his behalf. 

These Kites nest at moderate heights in willow trees, or other con- 
venient cover, in the vicinity of their chosen swamps. Mr. Lawrence 


1 Condor,{Vol. XVI., p. 42. 
? Ornithology of California, Vol. I, p. 488. 


1050 


Peyton has recently 
reported two pairs 
which nested in 
1915 near Sespe in 
Ventura County. 
One nest was placed 
eighteen and the 
other twenty feet 
up in live oak trees. 
Another, probably 
a second attempt 
on the part of one 
pair whose young 
had mysteriously 
disappeared, was 
found a mile away 
in the top of a big 
sycamore. Untfor- 
tunately for their 
race, White-tailed 
Kites lay most 
adorable eggs, quite 
the handsomest of 
any of the Raptors, 
and that is high 
tribute of praise. 
Basically creamy 
white, the surfaces 
are half buried, or 
else altogether cov- 
ered with chocolate 
in several intensi- 
ties, and each of 
ravishing richness. 
In the present pre- 
carious condition of 
the species, there- 
fore, the State must 
appeal to the honor 
of odlogists that 


The White-tailed Kite 


Taken in Ventura County Photo by the Author 


WHITE-TAILED KITE FLUSHING FROM NEST 


they restrain their cupidity, no less than to the gallantry of gunners that 
they forbear to shoot their friends. 


TO5T 


The Marsh Hawk 


No. 326 


Marsh Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 331. Circus cyaneus hudsonius (Linnezus). 


Description.—Adult male: Head and neck all around, chest, and upperparts 
light bluish gray or ashy, the hind-head darker, with much partially concealed white, 
and tinged with ochraceous; five outer primaries mostly black; upper tail-coverts 
pure white, tail silvery gray, barred irregularly with blackish, the subterminal band 
largest, tipped with whitish, the inner webs whitish or rusty-tinged; remaining under- 
parts, including under side of wing (except terminal third of primaries), white,—the 
belly, flanks and tibizw sparsely spotted or barred with bright rufous or pale dusky, 
and the lining of the wing with a few dusky spots and bars; wings, tail, and shanks, 
greatly lengthened; tip of wing formed by third and fourth primaries, wing when 
folded falling an inch or more short of tail, and sometimes not reaching to end of feet. 
Iris bright yellow; bill blackish; feet yellow; claws black. Adult female: Of different 
coloring; upperparts dusky brown, the head and neck streaked and the lesser wing- 
coverts and scapulars spotted or margined with cinnamon-rufous; longer upper tail- 
coverts white, the shorter ones brown tipped with rufous; tail banded, silvery gray and 
brownish dusky on central feathers, ochraceous tawny and blackish on remaining 
pairs; underparts ochraceous or buffy, streaked broadly on the breast, and narrowly 
on the belly with light brown or dusky. Immature: Similar to adult female but darker 
—rich chocolate-brown above, and on sides of neck and cheeks; the underparts darker, 
cinnamon-rufous,—the belly unmarked. Males show every gradation between im- 
mature and adult plumage, and indeed the perfect adult male plumage is rarely found. 
Adult male, length: 444.5-508 (17.50-20.00); wing 330.2-355.6 (13.00-14.00); tail 
215.9-254 (8.50-10.00); bill from cere 16.5 (.65); tarsus 75 (2.95). Adult female, 
length: 482.6-609.6 (19.00-24.00); wing 355.6-406.4 (14.00-16.00); tail 241.3-266.7 
(9.50-10.50); bill 19.1 (.75); tarsus 82.8 (3.26). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; white upper tail-coverts make the best field 
mark; long tail; marsh-haunting habits. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground in marshes, of twigs and dry grasses or moss. 
Eggs: 3-6, 8 of record, pale bluish white, usually unmarked but sometimes spotted 
or blotched with pale rufous. Av. size, 45.2 x 35.6 (1.78 x 1.40). Season: April 
10-May; one brood. 

Range of Circus cyaneus.—Europe, Siberia, and North America; south in winter 
to China, India, northern Africa, West Indies, Colombia. 

Range of C. c. hudsonius.—Chiefly North America. Breeds from northeastern 
Siberia, Alaska, northwestern Mackenzie, central Keewatin and Prince Edward Island 
south to the southern border states. Winters from British Columbia, the Ohio Valley, 
and New York, south to Cuba and northern South America. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter visitor at lower levels 
throughout the State. Breeds commonly east of the Sierras south at least to Owens 
Valley; and sparingly west of the Sierras at various valley points outside of the fog 
belt, and south to San Diego. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Circus hudsonius), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
2, 1., 1847, p. 28 (Calif.); Shaufeldt, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, vol. vi., 1881, p. 197 (anat- 
omy); Seton, Auk, vol. ii., 1885, p. 22; Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p.26, 
pl. 3 (food); Chandler, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xi., 1914, p. 329, pls. 


1052 


The Marsh Hawk 


ie . 


Taken in Inyo County Photo by the Author 
A ROMANTIC SETTING 


THE MARSH IS IN OWENS VALLEY, AND THE SNOW-FIELD WHICH OUTLINES THE HAWK HAS AN ELEVATION OF SOME 
12,000 FEET 


HUMILITY is the leading characteristic of this “‘ignoble’’ bird of 
prey, whether we regard its chosen paths, its spirit, or the nature of its 
quarry. Preéminently a bird of the meadows and marshes, it usually 
avoids the woods entirely, and is to be seen coursing over the grass and 
weed tops with an easy gliding flight. Since it flies at such a low elevation 
as neither to see nor be seen, over the limits of an entire field, it oftenest 
moves in a huge zigzag course, quartering its territory like a hunting-dog. 
Now and then the bird pauses and hovers to make a more careful examina- 
tion of a suspect, or drops suddenly into the grass, seizing a mole or cricket 
and retiring to a convenient spot—a fence-post or a grassy knoll—to 
devour its catch. 

The food of the Marsh Hawk consists almost entirely of meadow 
mice, young rabbits, ground squirrels, garter-snakes, frogs, lizards, grass- 
hoppers and the like. In hunting for ground squirrels the bird flies higher 
and secures its prey by a headlong dash, pinning the victim to the ground 
and making sure of the kill before rising. So great is its fondness for mice 
that one may, with sufficient cover for concealment, succeed in calling the 
hawk very close by imitating the squeak of a mouse in distress. 

Its fondness for the pestilential ground squirrel is so undisguised 
that the State could well afford to establish a Marsh Hawk hatchery, or 
to maintain a warden service, to see that the incorrigible hawk-killers are 


1053 


The Marsh Hawk 


brought to book. Au- 
thorities differ greatly as 
to the amount of destruc- 
tion occasioned by this 
bird to other bird life. 
I have been a rather 
close observer of this 
species, and in only one 
instance have | ever seen 
it capture a bird. That 
bird, a Redwing, was 
voluntarily released. Yet 
I have frequently re- 
marked that the lesser 
bird world is always 
greatly perturbed over 
the appearance of this 
Marsh Hawk. Pipits and 
Horned Larks and 
Meadowlarks will flee 
from its presence with 
distressed cries, inso- 
much that I have won- 
dered whether they rec- 
: é ognized a bad actor of 
2 ; zi former experience, or 
whether they mistake 
this modest mouser for 
something more dangerous. Or, again, when kingbirds and _ blackbirds 
persist in mobbing the Marsh Hawk, as they invariably do in the vicinity 
of its nesting home, one cannot be sure whether they are trying to avenge 
wrongs previously suffered, or only bullying an antagonist whom they do 
not fear. Major Brooks, on the other hand, assures me that he has seen 
the Marsh Hawk capture birds on many occasions, and he derides the 
claims which we make on behalf of the bird’s exemption. It is known that 
the Harrier will occasionally pick up a wounded quail or a duck (and who 
wouldn’t?) but he is not seriously reckoned at any southern station as a 
menace to game or poultry. 

This hawk is one of the most unwary, as it is the most useful of its 
race. It is no achievement to assassinate one from behind the cover of a 
convenient haycock, or even to arrest its easy flight in an open field. The 
tillers of the soil have done nothing more foolish or more prejudicial to 


1054 


MARSH HAWK 


The Marsh Hawk 


their own interests than to allow and encourage the slaughter of this inno- 
cent and highly useful member of the agrarian police. A farmer would 
have as just cause to be indignant at some interloper who shoots a Marsh 
Hawk on his premises, as at another who tramples down his wheat or 
breaks up his gopher traps. Given adequate protection to the Marsh 
Hawk, the Swainson and the Red-tailed Hawks, and the Burrowing Owl, 
the “‘squirrel’’ problem would scarcely trouble the California rancher. 

As the breeding season approaches, the male Harrier, feeling the 
impulse of the ennobling passion, mounts aloft and performs some aston- 
ishing aérial evolutions for the delectation of his mate. He soars about at 
a great height, screaming like a Falcon; or he suddenly lets go and comes 
tumbling out of space head over heels, only to pull up at a safe distance 
from the ground and listen to the admiring shrieks of his spouse. ‘‘At 
other times,’ says Mr. Ernest E. Thompson, “‘he flies across the marsh in 
a course which would outline a gigantic saw, each of the descending parts 
done in a somersault, and accompanied by the screeching notes which 
form the only love song within the range of his limited vocal powers.”’ 
This operation 1s not necessary in order to win his mate, for he is supposed 
to have won her ‘‘for keeps’’; but, after all, it is well enough to remind her 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF THE MARSH HAWK 


Taken in San Bernardino Counly 


The Marsh Hawk 


“READY TO FIGHT OR READY TO DIE" 
YOUNG BIRDS USUALLY TAKE LIFE VERY SERIOUSLY 
now and then that he is a very good fellow—for she is a size larger than he 
and a little exacting in matters of courtesy. 

Not only are the Marsh Hawks wedded for life, but the male is very 
much devoted to his family. He assists in nest-building, shares the duty of 
incubation, and is assiduous in providing for his brooding mate. A nesting 
site is selected late in March, in April, or in May, according to latitude, 
customarily in the tall grass adjoining a swamp, although latterly alfalfa 
fields have come to be great favorites. If the ground is wet, sticks are first 
laid down; but otherwise only grass, dead leaves, and weed-stems, with a 
little hair and moss or feathers, are used to build up a low platform, broad 
and slightly hollowed on top. Here four or five eggs, pale bluish green and 
commonly unmarked, are laid; but six is not unusual, and two sets of eight 
are on record, of which one, by George Willett, is from this State. 

Fearing alike the blundering step and the wilful marauder, Marsh 
Hawks are most zealous in defense of their nests... The male bird main- 


tains a sharp lookout in spite of his venatorial duties, and the approach 


1 Pacific Coast Avifauna, No. 7, p. 46. 


1056 


Photo by Pierce 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


of a stranger is marked by uneasy cries, eh - eh - eh - eh - eh. When the 
female is flushed, both birds will circle about with incessant protest, and 
will even dash at the head of the investigator in most reckless fashion. 
Repeated visits will not allay their anxiety, and a favorite enemy will be 
decried, as Saunders has reminded us,! a half mile from home. 

Incubation is accomplished in about 31 days, or if it has commenced 
with the laying of the first egg, as is often the case, then the last egg may 
not hatch for a week longer. While the female is brooding the young, she 
is frequently fed by the male from a considerable height. Dr. Lynds 
Jones relates one such instance in which an element of sportiveness 
appeared to enter in: ‘‘Once during the breeding season I saw a male 
catch a large garter snake and fly up with it several hundred feet, then 
drop it to the female who just then came flying along near the ground. 
She caught it and carried it to the nest, followed by the male.”’ 

The young, after leaving the nest, hunt for several months with their 
parents, and the last and costliest lesson which they learn is fear of man. 
If these most excellent mousers had half the gratitude shown to them 
which we manifest toward cats, they might be abundant where they are 
now rare. Without question the past thirty years have shown a marked 
decrease in the abundance of this species in the West. The Marsh Hawk 
is partially and irregularly migratory, but it is now seldom seen hereabouts 
save during migrations, whereas Cooper reported it? as ‘“‘one of the most 
abundant of hawks.” 


No. 327 


Sharp-shinned Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 332. Accipiter velox (Wilson). 

Synonyms.—‘‘Sparrow’ Hawk. Birp Hawk. 

Description.—Adult: Above slaty gray, dark plumbeous, or chocolate-brown, 
with a glaucous cast, darker but not black on head; occipital feathers, scapulars, and 
inner quills with concealed white at base; primaries banded with two shades of fuscous 
above, contrasting dusky and whitish below; tail, nearly square, slightly emarginate, 
crossed by five dusky bands, and narrowly whitish at tip, the basal band concealed 
and nearly obsolete; auriculars rusty, with black shaft-lines; throat whitish or pale 
buffy with blackish shafts; remaining underparts white, heavily barred on breast, 
belly, sides, axillaries, and shanks with pale cinnamon-rufous—quite variable, clay- 
color, tawny-olive or snuff-brown—feathers of breast with blackish shaft-lines; lining 
of wings rusty-tinged, finely and irregularly barred with dusky; crissum unmarked, 


1 Condor, Vol. XV., May, 1913, p. 100. 
2 Geological Survey of California, Vol. I., Ornithology (1870), p. 491. 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


or merely touched with rufous. Iris, cere, and feet yellow; bill and claws blackish. 
Females are perhaps less blue above, and duller or paler below. Immature: Above 
dusky brown margined with rufous (heavily on fore-crown and cervix, lightly or not 
at all elsewhere), concealed white cropping out in streaks on forehead and hind-neck, 
and in spots on scapulars, etc.; below streaked and spotted instead of barred with 
pale brown or cinnamon, with dusky shaft-lines, narrowly on cheeks and throat, more 
broadly on breast and sides,—markings pandurate on sides of breast, cordate, tear- 
shaped, or various, below, sometimes transverse on flanks and shanks. Between this 
and the typical adult plumage every gradation exists. Rather variable in size,— 
adult male: length 254-304.8 (10.00-12.00); wing 167.6 (6.60); tail 152.4 (6.00); bill 
from nostril 10.2 (.40). Adult female: length 317.5-362 (12.50-14.25); wing 203.2 
(8.00); tail 184.2 (7.25). 

Recognition Marks.—Little hawk size; adult transversely barred, young 
heavily streaked below, often giving the impression of a red-breasted bird; barring of 
under wing surface conspicuous in flight; the distinction between the breast pat- 
terns of adults and young must be borne clearly in mind to avoid confusion. Like next 
species, but considerably smaller, although female Sharpshins are as large as small 
male Coopers; tail not rounded. 

Nesting.— Nest: Of sticks, twigs and dried leaves; in trees at any height, 
or in hollow trees and cliff crannies; sometimes old nest of magpie or crow is used. 
Eggs: 4 or 5; bluish-, greenish-, or grayish-white, lightly or heavily spotted, blotched, 
marbled, or clouded with rich rufous (carob-brown). Av. size 37 x 30 (1.45 x 1.18). 
Season: May; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds practically throughout the United 
States and north to Keewatin and northwestern Alaska. Winters from the central 
states and British Columbia south to Panama. 

Distribution in California.—Common winter resident practically throughout 
the State below Boreal zone. Not common summer resident in Transition zone 
coastwise, at least as far as Monterey County and in the mountains to the San Jacintos 
(Tahquitz Valley, June 7, 1913). 

Authorities.—Gambel (Astury fuscus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. iii., 
1846, p. 46; Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 32, pl. 4 (food); Afzller, 
Univ. Calif. Publ. Geol., vol. vii., 1912, p. 73 (fossil); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 
7, 1912, p. 46 (s. Calif. occurrence; San Bernardino Mts.; breeding); Tyler, Pac. Coast 
Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 40 (San Joaquin Valley; habits); Rust, Condor, vol. xvi., 
1914, p. 14, figs. (desc. and photos of nest, eggs and young; habits, etc.; Idaho). 


MILLENNIUMS of agonized terror voice themselves afresh in the 
pitiful cries which break out among the lesser fowl, especially the Linnets 
and the Bush-Tits, whenever the Sharp-shin is astir. Many birds dive 
instantly for cover, but members of these two species, whose sole depend- 
ence seems to be in numbers, are thrown into a helpless panic. A wave 
of vocal despair sweeps the woodland, and each individual is seen to be 
fluttering abjectly while it utters those chittering distress notes. Not the 
devil himself, appearing suddenly in a congregation of worshippers, could 
occasion such consternation as comes to the little feathered folk cringing 
before the expected blow. The blow must fall and some one must die. 


1058 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


Aie! Aie! But when the grim destroyer has made selection, or passed 
on, how swift the recovery! The sun is still shining, buds are sweet, and 
grubs are juicy. What, ho! birdlings! “On with the dance. Let joy be 
unconfined !”’ 

The Hawks proper, of which this bird is a typical representative, may 
lack the spectacular wing-feats and noble bearing of the Falcons, but they 
are still very bold and rapacious birds. Indeed, it would be hard to picture 


Taken in Idaho Photo by H. J. Rust 
AMONG THE HANDSOMEST OF EGGS 


a more alert and blood-thirsty creature than this sharp-taloned little 
hawk as it scours the brush-patches or open fields in search of feathered 
prey. The flight of the Sharp-shin is at times as swift as an arrow and as 
direct, but it is skilled in doubling and twisting; and no bird, save a swift 
or a swallow, can escape it in the open. Coming upon a flock of black- 
birds, the hawk makes instant choice of a victim, and pounces like a flash 
upon it, either snatching it in midair, or bearing it to the ground and 
transfixing it with claws which pierce the vitals and cause instant death. 
If unsuccessful in its open attack, the hawk will either pursue through 


1059 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


Taken in Idaho Photo by Rust 
THE AGE OF INNOCENCE 


the mazes of brush or weed, or else retire quickly to thick foliage, there to 
await with the patience of a statue the first stirrings of the frightened 
quarry. The prey, when caught, is held at ‘‘arm’s length’’ until quite 
dead, and then either eaten on the spot or else carried up to some elevated 
perch. 

Sharp-shinned Hawks occur in very limited numbers in spring and 
summer at Transition or Canadian levels throughout the State, or at least 
as far south as the San Jacinto Mountains. They are, however, much more 
numerous in winter and during migrations. They probably indulge as 
definite a predilection for a winter as for their summer home. For seven 
winters past (the period of my residence in California), I have seen a 
Sharp-shinned Hawk pass over my yard in a westerly direction at a very 
early hour in the morning. The bird must roost somewhere in the im- 
mediate neighborhood, yet I have never seen him at any other time or 
place, save once when he tried to get a “‘pet’’ (but unconfined) Hermit 
Thrush. There is something gruesome, therefore, about the bird’s secre- 
tiveness, about his ability to pursue a rapacious calling unhindered by the 
guns of “‘Civilization.’’ Curiosity, however, sometimes gets the better of a 


1660 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


Sharp-shin. An unwonted stir in the brush suggests to him that birds are 
about and he hurries forward. Occasionally, then, the observer gets a 
perfect view of the Sharp-shin as it comes unexpectedly into sight over 
some woodland opening, and takes a curious turn about overhead, dis- 
playing as it sails the finely barred pattern of its wing-linings, and its long 
square-ended tail; but oftener, the bird is aware of your presence in ad- 
vance, and keeps warily out of range. It is equally at home in the open 
or in the woodland fastnesses, and I have on several occasions been nearly 
flown into by a Sharp-shin intent upon following some woodland path. 
Recovery, however, is instant, and the bird does not tarry to say “‘beg 
pardon.” It is sometimes felt, but rarely seen, in the neighborhood of the 
poultry house, and it is quite equal to carrying off a chick or a young pullet. 

A classic painting, doubtless authoritative, depicts a Sharp-shin with 
talons deep sunk in a dying Flicker, but I was much instructed in noting, 
last fall, October 15th it was, a desperate struggle which was being enacted 
on a boulder-strewn and oak-sprinkled hillside near Santa Barbara. The 
place was full of Red-shafted Flickers (Colaptes cafer collaris), recently 
arrived, and a party of Sharp-shinned Hawks, also newcomers, were doing 
their aceipitrine utmost to catch one of them. The Flickers screamed 


Taken in Idaho Photo by Rust 
THE PIN-FEATHER STAGE 
TOOT 


The Sharp-shinned Hawk 


with terror in a peculiar 
rattling fashion as they 
fled, but they always 
succeeded in evading the 
stroke. The Hawks were 
very persistent, but they 
were always unsuccess- 
ful (much to our relief), 
and they gave voice, in 
turn, to their recurrent 
disappointments in puz- 
zled squeaking tones. 
We were as greatly sur- 
prised as the Hawks ap- 
peared to be, that they 
could not make connec- 
tions with such easy- 
looking quarry. 
It is idle to speak 
a good word for this 
gory little hawk; he is 
the raw head and bloody 
bones of Bird-dom. Ro- 
dents and insects are eat- 
en only occasionally, 
while birds of every size 
up to pigeons and quails are its regular diet. 

According to Dr. Fisher, of 107 stomachs ex- 
amined containing food, 6 held poultry or game- 
birds, ‘“‘99, other birds; 6, mice; 5, insects.” 

Since these birds bear such a character, the 
successful odlogist may be allowed to point with pride 
to the elegant series of Sharp-shins’ eggs which usually 
adorns his collection. A set varies in number from 
three to seven, but four or five is customary. They are among the hand- 
somest of all eggs, not only because of their contrasting hues, but be- 
cause of their wide variation. The ground-color is always a delicate 
greenish white, but the markings are of lilac, brown, green, or red, and 
vary in size from a pin-point to irregular blotches covering half the 
egg. 


THE HOBBLEDEHOY 
STAGE 


Taken in Idaho 
Photo by Rust 


The nest is usually placed in some secluded situation in an evergreen 
close to the trunk of the tree, and at a height from the ground of from 


T662 


The Cooper Hawks 


twenty to fifty feet. Occasionally an old squirrel nest is utilized, though 
oftener the birds build their own nest, of small sticks neatly lined with 
smaller twigs, and sometimes of so loose a construction that light appears 
through any part of it when viewed from below. 

Both birds assist in the duties of incubation, and they are unusually 
brave in the matter of sticking to the nest under fire. No amount of 
rapping on the base of the tree will flush the sitting bird, and it will not 
often leave until the nest is almost reached. When disturbed both birds 
will make a high-spirited defense; and the female, who is, of course, the 
larger, will dart at the climber so boldly as occasionally to brush him 
with her wings. A wrathful yzp, yzp, ytp, yip, yip is likely to accompany 
this attack; and the notes serve again to remind one of the bird’s affinity 
to the Cooper Hawk. 

Quite apart from any possibility of nest defense—it was in open, 
hilly country near Cholame—I once heard a Sharp-shin tirade of rather 
startling proportions. The bird was in full pursuit of a Pacific Horned 
Owl and it shouted Ricky, ticky, ticky, ticky, ticky, with an animation 
which was both thrilling and terrifying,—the same note, I should judge, 
as would have been used by a bird in defense of its young. The hawk 
dived repeatedly at the owl, as the latter wended her virtuous way to her 
own nest, and although she took good care not to strike, she upbraided 
her in language which quivered with passion. Perhaps the owl had been 
naughty, but what arrant hypocrisy in a Sharp-shin! 


No. 328 


Cooper’s Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 333. Accipiter cooperi cooperi (Bonaparte). 

Synonym.—CuHICKEN Hawk. 

Description.—Adult: Similar to preceding species, but decidedly larger; the 
top of head deeper slate, or blackish, in sharper contrast to remaining upperparts, 
which are lighter than in velox; females average browner, and there is in both sexes a 
more marked tendency to outcropping of basal white on hind-neck; the tail slightly 
or considerably rounded; sides of breast often tinged with bluish gray. Immature: 
Similar to that of preceding species; more extensively tawny on crown and cervix; 
more outcropping of basal white on hind-neck and scapulars; chest often tinged with 
cinnamon-rufous; streaking of underparts less abundant, more sharply defined, and of 
darker shades; belly and sometimes throat immaculate, or tending to become so. 
Differences between adult and young rather more clearly marked than in A. velox. 
Very variable in size. Adult male, length: 355.5-431.8 (14.00-17.00); wing 215.9- 
241.3 (8.50-9.50); 177-.8-215.9 (7.00-8.50); bill from cere 15.2-16.5 (.60-.65). Adult 


1663 


The Cooper Hawks 


female, length: 457.2-508 (18.00-20.00); wing 247.6-279.4 (9.75-11.00); tail 215.9-254 
(8.50-10.00); bill from cere 17.8-20.3 (.70-.80). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; adult heavily barred below with cinnamon- 
rufous; young heavily striped on breast and sides with dark brown or dusky; top of 
head blackish; tail Jong, rounded. Almost always distinguishable from A. velox by 
greater size. 

Nesting.— Nest: Of sticks, with scant lining of green leaves, high in trees. 
Sometimes a deserted Crow’s nest is used. Eggs: 3 to 6; pale bluish white, sometimes 
spotted with light brown; subspherical. Av. size 48.8 x 38.6 (1.92 x 1.52). Season: 
April 20—May; one brood. 


Range of Accipiter cooperi—North America. Breeds from Mexico and southern 
border of the United States north to the southern Canadian provinces and southern 
Keewatin. Winters on the Pacific Coast from British Columbia and from the central 
eastern states south to Costa Rica. 

Range of A. c. cooperi.—The eastern and northern portion of the range above 
defined—line of demarcation from A. c. mexicanus undetermined. 

Distribution in California.—Common resident at all levels up into Transition. 
Presumably confined to region north of Tehachipe. More in evidence in winter, and 
numbers possibly augmented from the North. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Astur cooperit), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. tii., 
1846, p. 46 (Calif.); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 38, pl. 5 (food); 
Grinnell, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. v., 1908, p. 57 (San Bernardino Mts.; desc. 
nest and eggs; habits); zbid., vol. xii., 1914, p. 124 (Colorado Valley; desc. nest and 
eggs, etc.); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 46 (s. Calif.; occurrence, nesting 
dates, etc.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 54 (occurrence on Santa 
Cruz Id.). 


No. 328a Mexican Cooper Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 333, part. Accipiter cooperi mexicanus Swainson. 

Description.—Similar to A. c. cooperi, but averaging smaller, the wing averaging 
about 6 mm. shorter than that of coopert. Also ‘“‘female with markings of lower parts 
denser and rather deeper in color; more rufous on thighs’’ (INirke Swann). 

Nesting.—As in A. c. cooperi. Eggs: Averaging much smaller. Av. of 21 
specimens from southern California: 46.2 x 36.6 (1.82 x 1.44). 

Remarks.—Dr. Grinnell in the Colorado River Report [U. of C. Pub. Zool., 
vol. 12, no. 4 (1914), pp. 124, 125] was perhaps the first to call our attention to the 
small size of Cooper Hawks’ eggs taken in the Southwest. Having the curiosity to 
check up on this point, I find that 143 eggs from: Ohio (Fordyce), New York (Rath- 
bun), Pennsylvania (Burns), and Massachusetts (Bent), average mm. 49.02 x 38.82; 
while 21 eggs from southern California average mm. 46.2 x 36.6. This difference may 
not appeal to the layman as being very significant; but by application of the well- 


mab? 
known formula, 4 

3 
which, for practical purposes, an egg is assumed to be), we discover an average difference 
in bulk, or weight, of nineteen per cent of the smaller. Whether, indeed, this indubi- 
table reduction in the size of eggs from the Southwest may be correlated with the alleged 
smaller dimensions of Accipiter cooperi mexicanus, remains to be seen; but the point 


10064 


(for determining the cubical content of a prolate spheroid, 


The Cooper Hawks 


is deemed of sufficient importance to be recorded here. The author ventures, also, 
to advance the claim that an average difference in the size of eggs is just as important 
as a diagnostic distinction in the evaluation of subspecies, as is a difference in the 
length of bill or wing. Indeed, it is to be suspected that certain odlogical differences 
are both more profound and more ancient than many superficial marks upon which 
taxonomists rely. 


Range of A. c. mexicanus.—Resident in the Southwestern States and in Mexico. 


Distribution in California.—Presumed to be the form occupying the southern 
portion of the State, perhaps the region south of the Tehachipe, and the valley of the 
Colorado. Not yet distinguished from A. c. coopert. 


A DARK SHADOW, as of a bird, flashed across my north study win- 
dow, and, surmising from the angle of descent that the bird might have 
alighted in the sharp angle of the fence to westward, I peered suddenly 
out of the west window. There, upon the ground, sat the bird, a wicked- 
looking Cooper Hawk, back to, and eyeing me maliciously over his shoul- 
der. He did not seem to be in any hurry, nor did | think to inquire the 
nature of his business, for he fairly transfixed me with that gleaming red 
eye. Presently, observing how much advantage I should have of the 
bird if I should rush him, I bethought myself of the possibility of bolting 
out of the north window at him. The bird appeared to divine my thoughts, 
for he hopped forward—rather awkwardly I considered—and pressed 
between the palings of the high picket fence which separates my plot 
from neighbor Hoover’s pasture. Here he sat with free wing-room, but 
awkwardly still. Then seeing the jig was up, anyway, I pounded on the 
window, whereupon the hawk took heavily to wing. Judge of my as- 
tonishment, however, when I saw that he was bearing off a large quarry, 
presumably a Valley Quail! There he had been right before me, back 
on, to be sure, within 12 feet, and in the very act of setting his talons 
more deeply into a prostrate victim. Yet so great was the power of that 
evil eye, I had never guessed the mischief afoot. 

The aperture through which the hawk had forced himself so neatly, 
together with his unsuspected burden, proved to be exactly two and three- 
sixteenth inches wide without any lateral give. Efficiency as well as ruth- 
lessness belongs to the Cooper Hawk. 

Next after the American Kestrel (Cerchneis sparvertus sparverius), 
the Cooper Hawk is the most abundant and the best distributed Hawk in 
California. This does not necessarily imply that the bird is most in evi- 
dence, for it is wary and furtive to a degree, insomuch that it is able to 
maintain itself almost unnoticed in some sections where gun-fire is un- 
usually vigilant. Where not persecuted, however, it is possessed of a 
lively curiosity, and will appear unexpectedly at one’s elbow, as though 
desiring to profit by any woodland commotion likely to set the little birds 


1065 


The Cooper Hawks 


astir. It is thus, no doubt, that it has learned to dance attendance upon 
deer or cougar thrusting through the brush. 

One never gets a clearer insight into the possibilities of cruel rapacity 
than when a Cooper Hawk comes dashing up into a thicket where you have 
been ogling Sparrows, and baffled of his victim, stands for a moment pant- 
ing in his rage, and flashing malevolence from a blood-red eye. It is as 
though an emissary of the nether world had broken from cover; and one 
feels all the virtue of a just cause in putting him to death. 

Birds form eighty per cent of Cooper Hawk’s food, and young chick- 
ens are counted in whenever occasion offers. Game birds are often cap- 
tured, for the Cooper Hawk is a conscienceless brigand; but when the 
birds are scarce he descends to rabbits, squirrels, mice, grasshoppers, 
crickets, and similar small quarry. 

So quick, as well as stealthy, is the bird in action that in nine cases 
out of ten it is the Cooper Hawk who gets the bird, and the unwary Buteo 
who gets the shot. His lurking presence contributes more than any other 
factor to the deadly hawk-fear which occupies the background of the bird 
psychology. When he has recently shown himself, the bird world gets 
panicky like a spirited horse. After that, every flying shape is a hawk and 
the signal for a scramble to shelter. I shall never forget how a company 
of ducks, chiefly Cinnamon Teals, on Laguna Blanca, were thrown into the 
wildest confusion by the sudden arrival of a Great Blue Heron. ‘My! 
What a fright you gave me,”’ gabbled a dozen ducks, as they checked their 
mad effort and settled back to puddling. A moment later the Cooper 
Hawk did appear, and a watchful Killdeer, who saw him first, set up a 
sharp tee dee dee, which put the ducks to rout and nearly upset the heron. 
The ducks, forty of them, now dashed into the nearest clump of tules, 
and the heron, seeing that the fishing was spoiled anyhow, took himself 
off grumbling. 

It is both amusing and amazing that our Dr. Cooper, writing on Cali- 
fornian ornithology, could have said of the Cooper Hawk:! ‘‘Its nest and 
eggs have not yet been described.”’ It is, perhaps, not less amazing that 
Dr. Baird, who edited the Cooper manuscript in 1870, should not have 
been able to correct him. Whatever may have been the cause of this early _ 
oversight, the nesting of the Cooper Hawk is a commonplace of to-day. 

Having chosen a nesting site, the Cooper Hawk becomes quite at- 
tached to the locality; and if undisturbed will return year after year. 
He haunts the vicinity like an unquiet ghost, and may be heard oftener 
than seen, voicing his unrest in querulous notes, kek, kek, kek, kek, kek, 
kek, kek, kek. Sometimes curiosity gets the better of caution and he 
throws a few circles in the open, swapping confidences, as it were, with 


1 Geological Survey of California, Vol. I., Ornithology, p. 465. 


1066 


The Cooper Hawks 


the birdman; and in return for the few sharp glances he bends downward, 
affords a full view of his short, rounded wings and his long, rounded tail. 
One is impressed rather with the bird’s ease and nonchalance than with 
its swiftness in flight; but it is a master at checking and tacking, so that 
few of the smaller birds are a match for it in the open air, and not all 
of them in the mazes of the forest, which the hawk threads relentlessly. 

In nesting, the bird sometimes avails itself of an old crow’s nest, 
taking pains to fill up the nesting hollow with twigs, and adding a few 
twigs yearly in a desultory way. Oftener, however, the bird is his own 
architect—and contractor. He, or he and she, construct a very substantial 
platform of slender twigs, lined, or at least marked, with some sort of 
greenery. This is placed at any height, but usually, if the situation allows, 
well up. Alders, willows, oaks, sycamores, any tree that offers will do, so 
the site be secluded and the surrounding cover as dense as possible. In the 
evergreen stretch, young fir trees are almost invariably utilized, and nests 
are placed at a height of 60-or 8o feet. 

Nesting is in April or May, according to altitude, and second sets may 
or may not be laidin June. The eggs, three or four, or, rarely, five in num- 
ber (in the West), may be conveniently described as “Shawk-egg color,’’— 
chalky white with a bluish tinge, too subtle for precise nomenclature, un- 
marked, or rarely, spotted and blotched with cinnamon or sayal brown. 
The incubation period is said by Major Bendire to be 24 days (it is prob- 
ably much longer). The parents are aggressive to the point of offering 
personal violence, or else wary to the point of punctilious absence— 
according to the ‘discipline’ they have received. The successful rearing 
of a family of four Cooper Hawks, to speak only of the month or there- 
abouts which they spend in the nest, costs the bird world approximately 
750 lives. A year’s board-and-keep for a single Cooper Hawk represents 
the tidy sum of 2920 sparrows, not to mention much other refreshment. 
If we allow a single bird per section in California, assigning thus 72 square 
miles on the average for the support of a single pair of Cooper Hawks, we 
shall have an annual meat bill for Accipiter coopert of 12,652,360 bird 
units. A rather expensive boarder! 

The Cooper Hawk population of California is undoubtedly aug- 
mented in winter by accessions from the North, and the lowlands receive 
correspondingly the discharge of the upper levels. Yet it is quite probable 
that the lowland population is about stationary. 

Regrettably, neither time nor space permit me to expand the claim 
that the Cooper Hawks of southern California belong to a southern race, 
A. c. mexicanus. Suffice to say that the evidence of the egg eloquently 
supports this view, for southern-taken eggs average decidedly smaller 
than those taken further north. 


1667 


The Goshawks 


No. 329 


Goshawk 


No. 329a American Goshawk 


A. O. U. No. 334. Astur gentilis atricapillus (Wilson). 

Description.—Adult: Similar to A. g. striatulus, but less heavily marked 
below and the markings paler,—never blended blue-gray; upperparts not so dark, 
slate-gray. Immature: Brownish black of back and striping of underparts lighter in 
tone than in sériatulus. 

Nesting.—As in next form. Does not breed in California. 

Range of Astur gentilis—Central northern portion of the Northern Hemis- 
phere, south in winter to North Africa, Thibet, and Mexico. 

Range of A. g. atricapillus—North America, except the Pacific Coast district- 
Breeds from the limit of trees south to Michigan and northern New England and in 
the mountains to Pennsylvania and New Mexico. Winters from Alaska and the 
southern Canadian provinces south to northern Mexico, the northern portion of the 
Ohio Valley, and Virginia. 

Occurrence in California.—Probably not common winter visitant. A notable 
invasion from the North in the fall and winter of 1916. Many records. 

Authorities.—Grinnell, Condor, vol. xix., 1917, p. 70 (winter vis.; specimens 
from various localities; crit.; color of ‘‘soft parts’; meas.; etc.); Thompson, Auk, vol. 
xiv., 1897, p. 395, pl. (‘‘directive’’ markings in hawks and owls). 


No. 329b Western Goshawk 


A. O. U. No. 334a. Astur gentilis striatulus Ridgway. 
Synonyms.—GoosE Hawk. BLUE HEN Hawk. BLUE DaArRTER. 


Description.—Adult: Above dark plumbeous to sooty blackish; with darker 
shaft-lines; darker, almost black on head; white lines over and behind eye loosely 
connected by ill-concealed basal white of cervical feathers; auriculars blackish; tail 
with four dusky bands, plain, or almost obsolete; inner webs of wing-quills mottled,— 
dusky and whitish; entire underparts white, finely and heavily marbled with slaty 
gray, in fine wavy or zigzag lines, sometimes so closely as to appear almost uniform 
blue-gray, the markings falling into fine bars on flanks and tibiez, with sharply defined 
blackish shaft-lines on throat and breast. Bill dark blue; iris light yellow; feet yellow, 
claws black. Immature: Following the Accipiter fashion; above dark brown, spotted 
with buff and whitish and margined with rusty; tail with narrow white tip and four 
distinct dusky bands; below whitish to strong ochraceous-buffy, elongate-spotted or 
striped with dark brown or blackish, the markings guttate on belly, broader, on sides 
and flanks. Adult male, length about 558.8 (22.00); wing 304.8-342.9 (12.00-13.50); 
tail 241.3-266.7 (9.50-10.50); bill from nostril 19.1 (.75). Adult female, length about 
609.6 (24.00); wing 336.6-362 (13.25-14.25); tail 279.4-317.5 (11.00-12.50). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow to brant size; adult dark plumbeous above, white, 
finely mottled with slaty gray below; rather short, rounded wings; white line over 
eye; tail a foot long. 


1068 


al 


No. 329 


_Goshawk 


Xe, il American Goshawk 
AO. U. No. 334. Astur gentilis atricapillas (Wilson). 


eacnatinn,-Aduie: Similar: tee AL. 2. ostrsotulies, Taek) hess heavily Saeai 
helow and the markings paler never blended blue-grey: upperpar & Rot dark, 
slate-gray. Jnuneiues.  Brevwniga black ot back and < 2 i wales ae fighter i in 
stone than ta pine an 
Nesting. io Bene form, oes aor breed ¢ 
Dieses OF Aver Seabee Central northern serena ai! Sie 
Ores hte ce ay ts Dea Pela a ase dai Bebe Fay i 
eaves He 2 aie tates “North Aunenes, wreak: the Pace Caast distdir: 
ae : ath to Michigan and thetn New England and in 
and New Mexico. Winters feom Alaska and the 
ta nestheri: Mexica, the northern portion of the 


Gis APORRE: a Califor Bin. ---Proladly not caniniin winter visitant: A notable 
Ubeasion Tam vn aed in the fall aad winter af 1g16. Many records: 

Aastherities.- Brin vel, Condor, vol. xix.,.4917, p. 70 (winter vis.; specimens 
fram varions localities; One: color of ‘soft parts’’; meas.: etc.); Phonipson, Auk, vol. 
F807) f. 305, 21. (“directive” markings in hawks and owls). oo 


American Goshawk 


Ne, 32%b Western Goshawk About 34 life size 
A. GU. No, a34a. Astur gentilis striatulus Ridgway. 
Synonyms.—Goose Hawk. Brive lite Hawk. Baum Darcrr. ( 
Pescription..- Adult; Above dark pluschecus ta san¢cy blackish; with darker 
i dasker, almost black on head; white ees aver eat behind eye loosely. 
sonenaled hasal white uf ce poasicinntg ie erneseehet eckish tail” 
hatds, plain, or almtat ohaake 
1 ene Gaderbarcs white, aie ated face peat itl slaty 
igrag Naes, spametinnes eo eR: we GS) appear almost uniform, 
haxt : asd titim, with sharply defined” 
é se, Pia Het yetlow; feet yellow, 
st! Petowiie the Are sion; abave fark brown, spotted... 
bah wiargined h iMiy. ta WK natrow white tip and four™ | 
> Settee: whseish. 163 % uchrateous-bufly, elongate-spotted or ~ 
wet § : yews or Mdackish, dhe nierhatige gettate on belly, broader, on sides 
dn Bae RNS gaete, Tene th aba 55. & (2.80); wing 304.8-342.6 (12\00213.50); 
tate tes: ue Re SO) bill from nostril EOE MS Adult female, length about — 
HOG bog, 495.5-353. (93.25-I4.25); tail 279.4- Aur. 5 (11.00-12.50). aes 
Recognition Rearks.—Crow to brant size; adult dark plumbeous above, white, 
finely mottled with daty gray below; rather shert, rounded wings; white line. over h 
eye; ten a foot long. 


1668 


The Goshawks 


Nesting.— Nest: High in trees, usually coniferous; of sticks, twigs and grass, 
lined with bark-strips and grass. Eggs: 2 to 5; white or bluish white, sometimes 
faintly marked with pale brown. Av. size 58.9 x 45.5 (2.32 x 1.79). Season: 
April to—May 20; one brood. 

Range of A. g. striatulus.—Pacific Coast region of America, breeding from Cook 
Inlet, Alaska, south to southern Sierras; wintering south to California and east to 
Colorado. 

Distribution in California.—Rare summer resident in the Boreal zone from 
Mt. Shasta and the Warners south along the Sierra Nevada to about Latitude 36° 30’. 
Somewhat more common in winter and at lower levels, especially northerly. Recorded 
south to San Diego (Lower Otay Reservoir, Stephens). 

Authorities.—Newberry (Asturv atricapillus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
857, p- 74 (San Francisco); Ray, Auk, vol. xx., 1903, p. 138 (Pyramid Peak, June and 
uly); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. II, 1915, p. 64 (occurrence in Calif.). 


Taken in Fresno Counly Photo by the Author 
THE GORGE OF DESPAIR 


THE GOSHAWK COURTS THE WILDEST SETTING 


A MILD experience of the feelings of a chicken befell my partner 
while we were camped near a trail in the northern Cascades. It was late 
in June and the ornithologist was not aware that a certain stretch of woods 
which the trail cleft belonged to a highly virtuous pair of Goshawks, until 


1069 


The Goshawks 


Whoof! Biff! the blue terror struck 
a blow from behind and sent the 
birdman sprawling. He had, 
moreover, quick need to defend 
himself with sticks and stones, for 
the bird was back again in a trice, and a 
tough sombrero alone saved him from 
severe scalp wounds. Of course there 
was a nest hard by, and we found it, some 
sixty feet up, in a dense stand of fir trees. 
I accepted the photographic chal- 
lenge which the discovery 
afforded, but first impro- 
vised a coat of mail, where- 
in a stuffed knapsack did 
duty for a helmet, and a 
wrapping of dunnage bags 
was designed to protect the 
shoulders. Like Don 
Quixote, I set out to meet 
my foe, but the gentil bird 
had respect for knighthood 
even of this decadent type, 
and forbore to offer further 
Taken near Spokane Pholo by W. H. Wright indignities. As she left the 
torian cackle, ak, ak, ak, 

ak, a note which reminded one again of the Cooper Hawk, save that 

it had a deal more of menace in it. 

Fortunately for our game and poultry, the “Blue Hawk”’ is com- 
paratively rare in California. It appears to be confined during the nest- 
ing season to the timbered sections of the northern mountain ranges, 
save that it follows the Sierras south to about latitude 36° 30’. I have 
myself seen it only in the Warner Mountains, on Mt. Shasta (at timber- 
line), in the Mammoth section, and in the valley of the Little Yosemite 
near Grigsby Point. The bird haunts the darkest woods as well as the 
open heights, and makes the Sierra Grouse (Dendragapus obscurus sierr@) 
a special object of attack. At other seasons it invades the lower valleys, 
chiefly those of northern California, receiving, no doubt, some accessions 
from outside the State. 

The Western Goshawk is excelled by none in display of cunning or 
prowess. At times, indeed, the thirst for blood appears to dull its dis- 


1670 


The Goshawks 


cretion, and it will return to seize a fowl even after it has been shot at; 
but oftener it marks the gunner from a distance and awaits the unguarded 
moment at the poultry-yard. After sighting game, this Hawk does not 
soar and hover, after the manner of the Prairie Falcon; rather it ap- 
proaches in a horizontal direction at a low elevation and under partial 
cover of vegetation, then darts down suddenly or makes a quick side turn, 
seizing its victim deftly, and off again to a distant station. Having once 
got the lie of the land, a Goshawk will make requisition on a poultry yard 
two or three times a day, and may elude capture altogether, be the owner 
never so incensed over his losses. 

“Nidification begins early, usually about the latter part of March or the 
beginning of April, long before the snow has disappeared from the moun- 
tains, and while the hillsides are still saturated with moisture, making it 
anything but easy work to look for their nests. These are usually built 
in tall trees and no particular preference seems to be shown in their se- 
lection. The nests are mostly placed close to the trunk and generally 
well hidden from view. Occasionally one is placed some distance out, 
or between the forks of one of the larger limbs, and on that account can 
be more readily seen. | believe each of these birds has its regular hunting 


Taken in the Tehipilte Valley Photo by the Author 
WHERE THE GOSHAWK LURKS 


1677 


The Harris Hawk 


range, from which all other species of Raptores are driven off. At any 
rate I have never found the Western Red-tailed or Swainson’s Hawks, 
the most common kinds found, breeding in the vicinity of a pair of 
Goshawks”’ (Bendire). 


No. 330 


Harris’s Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 335. Parabuteo unicinctus harrisi (Audubon). 

Description.—Adult (sexes alike): General body plumage sooty black; the 
“‘shoulders,”’ i. e., bend of wing with lesser wing-coverts, the axillars, lining of wings, 
and lengthened tibiew, rich dark chestnut; basal half of tail with upper and lower 
coverts white, and the tip of tail white for about an inch. Bill blackish; feet (drying) 
yellow with black claws. Immature birds are more brownish black and the chestnut 
is less pure; under wing-coverts, abdomen, tibiz, tail, etc., variously barred. Length 
of male about 508 (20.00); wing 330.2 (13.00); tail 228.6 (9.00); tarsus 80.5 (3.17). 
Length of females up to 609.6 (24.00); wing 355.6 (14.00); tail 279.4 (11.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size; black coloration set off by rich chestnut; tail 
white on basal half. 

Nesting.— Nest: Of sticks, lined with bark and grass; placed at moderate 
heights in trees or cactus. Eggs: 2 to 4; pale bluish white, sometimes spotted or 
irregularly blotched with dull rufous (cinnamon-fawn color) or vinaceous gray. 
Av. size 54 x 42 (2.126 x 1.65); index 77.7. Season: April 10-June 10; one brood. 

Range of Parabuteo unicinctus.—Southern borders of the United States south 
to Chile and Argentina. 

Range of P. wu. havrisiimResident in Lower Sonoran zone in the southern border 
states from southeastern California to southern Mississippi and south to Cape San 
Lucas and Panama. 

Occurrence in California.—Resident in the valley of the lower Colorado 
River. Also casual near San Diego (Mission Valley, Nov. 17, 1912—Gray). 

Authorities.—A. O. U. Check-List, 2nd. ed., 1895, p. 129 (‘‘westward to 
Calif.’’); Grinnell. Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 3, 1902, p. 77; Stephens, Condor, vol. v., 
1903, p. 77 (Colorado Valley); Grey, Condor, vol. xv., 1913, p. 128 (Mission Valley, 
near San Diego); Bancroft, Condor, vol. xxii., 1920, p. 156 (Imperial County, breeding). 


PARABUTEO means near-Buteo or almost-a-Buteo; but harrisi is 
quite a beauty if he is not quite a Buteo. Indeed, he is rather the hand- 
somest of our hawks, especially if seen a-wing or down-sun, where the 
values of the white tail-coverts, terminal white tail-band, and chestnut 
epaulets may be developed in contrast with the rich black of the remaining 
plumage. He does bear a striking resemblance to the Buteos both in 
pose and in voice. The Harris Hawk has the same habit of posting in a 
conspicuous place, a tree-top or a telegraph pole, to guard against enemies 


The Harris Hawk 


or to watch for prey. Its flight, however, is more frequently direct and 
much more rapid than in the case of any Buteo. 

Early observers formed the impression of a sluggish, impassive bird, 
but the discipline of gun-fire must have taught it a good deal of caution. 
Mr. Brooks and I encountered the Harris Hawk on several occasions near 
Potholes, in February, 1913, but were unable to secure a specimen. Nor 
did the M. C. O. expedition to Arizona succeed any better in the spring 
of 1917, although we met the species several times, both on the Gila 
River and at our camp near Tucson. The birds were simply unapproach- 
able save by 8-power binoculars. 

According to Mr. Vernon Bailey, who had unusual opportunity to 
observe this species in Texas, it feeds largely upon small mammals, es- 
pecially the wood rats (Neotoma). A nest which he found was nearly 
covered with the remains of these animals, including a dozen skulls. This 
hardly comports with Coues’ designation of the species as the ‘Carrion 
Buzzard”; and it seems probable that this veteran overestimated the 
extent to which P. uw. harrisi subsists upon carrion. The summer of 1917 
should have provided a fair test of this characteristic, for the cattle in 
southern Arizona were dying off like flies, yet while we frightened numbers 
of the Audubon Caracara from carcasses, we saw no Harris Hawks sim- 
ilarly employed. 

Probably the Harris Hawk is extending its range northward and west- 
ward, and will continue to do so if we can ever persuade the farmers that 
a live gopher-killer, always on the job, is a priceless boon to society, even 
though his shadow should accidentally fall upon the sacred precincts 
of the chicken yard. This handsome black hawk has never been known 
to kill birds, let alone hens; and it is a crime to shoot it for anything 
less than scientific purposes. 

To that veteran collector, Mr. Frank Stephens, belongs the honor 
of having first established the right of Harris Hawks to a place in the Cali- 
fornia list. He took a specimen and saw two others in August, 1902,! 
on the Colorado River, near Ehrenberg. Mr. H. E. Wilder? saw these 
birds in considerable numbers at Palo Verde, further down the river, in 
December of the same year, and supposed that they were taking refuge 
in the river bottom from the sand storms which were raging in the ad- 
joining desert. Mr. Leo Wiley took a specimen, Nov. Ist, 1914; and 
afterwards (April 5th, 1917), in company with Dr. Loye Holmes Miller, 
of Los Angeles, discovered a nest, the first for California. Mr. Wiley 
reports that the three eggs were placed in a nest, presumably an old one, 
which he had seen the winter before in a mistletoe clump in a mesquite 
~ LiGtasréter: Vol. V., May, 1903, p. 77- 


?Condor, Vol. XVIII., May, 1916, p. 127. 
*Condor, Vol. XIX., July, 1917, p. 142. 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


thicket. This thicket bordered upon a lagoon, one of the overflow 
channels of the Colorado, and was not far from some houses, although 
the birds were clever enough to keep quiet and not to appear near the 
settlement itself. On the 27th of April the eggs hatched and the young- 
sters were seen to be covered with a light buffy down. 

This species was early reported from northern Lower California, but 
was never known to have crossed the line west of the mountains till 
Mr. Harvey Grey secured a specimen,! a male in full plumage, in the 
Mission Valley near San Diego, Nov. 17, 1912. 


No. 331 


Western Red-tailed Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 337b. Buteo borealis calurus (Cassin). 

Synonyms.—WESTERN RED-TAIL. WESTERN RED-TAILED BUZZARD. BLACK 
RED-TAIL. CHICKEN Hawk. HEN Hawk. 

Description.—Adult, light phase: Above dark brown or sooty brown, color 
nearly pure on upper back, upper scapulars, and minor wing-coverts, elsewhere much 
varied by lighter grayish brown, tawny, and outcropping white; basal white out- 
cropping regularly on hind-neck; tawny most extensive on sides of neck and on cervix; 
longer scapulars and tertials dusky and white, and double tawny-barred; wing-quills 
blackening on exposed tips (often with violaceous or purplish reflections), faintly 
banded basally on outer webs, distinctly dusky and white on inner webs; Ist primary 
shorter than or about equal to the 8th, the point of the wing formed by 3rd, 4th, and 
5th, the 2nd longer than the 6th; when folded usually but not always falling two or 
three inches short of end of tail; the first four primaries deeply emarginate on the 
inner web, the 2nd to the 5th lightly emarginate on outer web; tail rich orange-rufous, 
crossed near tip by narrow black band, and with suggestions of former (juvenile) 
black bands persistent in spots along sides of shaft, especially basally; upper tail- 
coverts like tail in color, or a little lighter, and obscurely dusky-banded; underparts 
white, variously broad-marked or washed, except on throat, with pale cinnamon- 
rufous, most heavily on sides of breast, where also broad-marked with dusky; throat 
and breast sparingly marked with blackish shaft-streaks; shafts on flanks deep rusty; 
flanks and shanks finely wavy-barred in two shades of pale rufous. Bill plumbeous; tar- 
sus yellow, very stout;claws black. Adult in (common) melanistic phase: Entire plum- 
age, except tail and its coverts, chocolate brown, rich sooty brown, or blackish, rich deep 
rusty usually warming on breast, and lighter rufous appearing on shanks. Between 
these two plumages many gradations exist. Erythrism, or a tendency to reddening 
of plumage, is noticeable in many dark-colored specimens, while albinism of some 
degree is not rare. Immature: Above much as in adult, but showing less of tawny 
and more of outcropping white; tail entirely different, grayish brown crossed by ten 
or twelve brace-shaped or waved bands of dusky; upper tail-coverts lighter, dusky- 
and-whitish-barred, with mixture of ochraceous; underparts white or pale ochraceous 
buffy, heavily streaked, spotted, and posteriorly barred with dark brown, except on 


1Condor, Vol. XV., p. 128. 


1674 


vUOZILTY Ul Udye 7 


4oyrn py aut dq ydvibopoud v Woy 
[!¥3pay UrI}S9 AA OY} JO JUNLET BUIISO V 
SISVO J10S9(] V 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


breast, which is nearly immaculate. Immature birds frequently show strong melanistic 
tendency, in which case the spotting of the underparts invades the breast and increases 
elsewhere nearly to the point of confluence. Length of male (average of six adults 
and full-grown immatures): 558.8-628.7 (22.00-24.75); wing 402.6 (15.85); tail 241.3 
(9.50); chord of culmen 25.2 ae tarsus 91.6 (3.61). Length of female (6 adults and 
near adults): ae 692.2 (23.25-27.25); wing 425.5 (16.75); tail 254 (10.00); bill 27 
(1.06); tarsus 94 (3.70). 

Roonaan Mira Cro to brant size; red tail when visible always distinc- 
tive; stouter proportions and more regal bearing, as compared with B. swainsoni, but 
not always distinguishable from that species afield. 

Nesting.— Nest: Of sticks, lined with bark-strips, usnea, or grass pulled up 
by the roots; placed in crannies or ledges of cliff or high in trees. A large tree nest in 
the M. C. O. coll. measures 3 feet long by 2 broad and 1 deep, and has a hollow 8 x 10 x 2 
inches. Eggs: 2 or 3, rarely 4, 5 of record; white, or pale bluish white, lightly stained, 
spotted, blotched, or smeared with reddish brown or, rarely, immaculate. The pig- 
ment variations include tilleul buff, vinaceous buff, avellaneous, wood-brown, fawn- 
color, Rood’s brown, vandyke brown, chestnut-brown, tawny olive, and dresden 
brown. Av. of 36 sets 59.9 x 46.2 (2.36 x 1.82); index 77. Extremes: 54-66.8 x 43.3- 
49.5 (2.12-2.63 by 1.70-1.95). Season: Feb. 15th-May Ist, according to latitude 
and altitude; one brood. 

Range of Buteo borealis —North America, breeds from central Yukon, central 
western Mackenzie, central Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south to Florida and the 
Greater Antilles, Guatemala, and Cape San Lucas. 

Range of B. b. calurus—Western North America, except the coast district of 
southeastern Alaska, from.central Yukon and western Mackenzie south to Cape San 
Lucas and central America; east to the western borders of the Great Plains and casually 
to Ontario. 

Distribution in California.—Common resident of the widest distribution. 
Breeds from Lower Sonoran deserts to the limits of Upper Transition, and wanders 
into high Boreal. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Buteo borealis), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. iii., 
1846, p. 45 (upper Calif.); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 352 (syn., desc., 
crit.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 41 (San Joaquin Valley); Wetmore, 
Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 112 (speed of flight). 


THE ALABAMA HILLS, in Inyo County, are reputed to be the 
oldest geological formation in America. By this I suppose it is meant 
that this modest escarpment of granite represents the core of a conti- 
nental ridge older than the towering Sierras, which now dwarf them 
into insignificance. The superficial details might be as recent as those 
of any other granitic exposure; yet to the eye itisnotso. It is rather as 
though the authentic eld had been preserved intact. When one gazes 
from above into the upper reaches of a certain canyon near Lone Pine, 
the conviction is forced upon him that he beholds not the effects of wind 
and weather, but those of wave erosion. These rounded and deeply 
sculptured forms were left by the laving of a primordial sea, and they have 
gone practically unmodified ever since. The panorama at the head of the 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


canyon back of the old Carter ranch 
is fairly stupendous. It is as though 
the ocean, at the word of some mystic 
command, had suddenly receded 
from a terrific tide-gut with its en- 
tourage of roaring reefs. There, are 
rounded bosses where the Plesio- 
saurus played; here, gloomy caverns 
which the urancient Kraken has only 
just made vacant; here, swirls in 
stones and crests of ripping reefs, 
which served as giant models for the 
dorsal scales of Stegosaurus. We 
came upon it after sunset, my son 
and I, and the glory of it smote us 
like a vision of Neptune with his 
bearded hosts. Surely we had 
stumbled upon a bit of the elder 
world, reserved by sorcery from the 
accustomed gaze of man. With 
bated breath we gazed, until we 
plucked at our flesh to see if we, too, 
were turned to stone. And as we 
orca ee GE gazed, a Redtail, lifting silently from 
Pikeman ae ee Bie by the Author aN unseen ledge, winged across the 

THE “DECORATION” ae ee ae TO ITS MUMMIE chasm with such confident modernity 

that the spell broke in laughter. 

A “Burke's Peerage” of the birds might not mention the Buteos under 
the head of royalty—Falco and Aquila are the autocrats par excellence— 
but Redtail’s patent of nobility is very ancient, and is based upon the 
same claims as those which human lords have set up: viz., a predatory 
ancestry, unbroken possession of certain broad acres for many centuries, 
and a frowning castle upon some sightly hill. In this last respect the bird 
is not surpassed, in the Pacific States at least, by that arrogant old Haps- 
burg, the Prairie Falcon himself. 

As to the broad acres, chiefly game preserves (to carry out the 
whimsy), the royal claim comes first (because, forsooth, the Falcon is the 
swifter bird); and there is always a horde of retainers—Sparrow Hawks, 
Burrowing Owls, Magpies, and Ravens—to consider, before the overlord 
may count his yearly rental of ground-squirrels, rabbits, mice, snakes, 
lizards, and the lesser fry. Moreover, in these evil days, the pirate Danes 
have swept down on the Redtail’s coasts, have torn his acres with the plow 


1676 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


and have burnt his gopher-fields with fire. Worst 
of all, these ruthless invaders, having no use them- 
selves for sage-rats, yet deny them to their rightful 
owner, the Redtail; and they pursue him fiercely 
with engines of destruction when he ventures to 
sample an imported Danish fowl. Verily, these be 
troublous times for the aristocracy. Alackaday! 
Truth to tell, there is no more foolish obsession 
which afflicts farmer folk than this,—that all Hawks 
should be killed at sight; unless it be this other,— 
that all birds caught eating cherries are worthy of 
death. Penny wise, pound foolish, both of them! 
The man who is worst injured by this folly is, of 
course, the farmer himself, but society also suffers 
through him. Why, it is as if the man should send 
a charge of buckshot through a boy who stooped 
to pluck a strawberry—the while he cared nothing 
that the cattle were ravaging his wheatfield for lack 
of that same small boy to drive them out. In all 
seriousness, it is no exaggeration to say that, insofar 
as the three most easily slaughtered species of 
Hawks are concerned, the Marsh Hawk, Swainson’s 
and the Redtail, any farmer in the grain-growing 
sections of this State could well afford to raise a 
hundred chickens annually and feed them to the 
birds, if by so doing he could secure immunity from 
the ravages of rodent pests. Yes; the excess of 
wheat and barley which the pests destroy annually 
in root and in blade would feed the chicks and 


Af 

a 
I 
+b 
: 


ee] 


hy ea 


pe ye 
repay the trouble tenfold. HES 
The Western Redtail is still, after the American 
Kestrel (Cerchnets sparverius), the commonest hawk  fezen im Arizona Photo by the Author 
in California. It possesses great adaptability, so OBS AMON 


WESTERN REDTAIL, ADULT, ON SAHUARO 


that it is able to maintain itself as well upon the 
Colorado and Mojave deserts as upon the middle slopes of the Sierras 
and the jutting cliffs of the boundless chaparral country. It retires 
irregularly from the more elevated valleys under stress of winter, but in 
late summer it rises to the very limit of trees. Only this season (1922), 
and in early July, we saw one over our camp in the Grand Cirque (alt. 
11,000), where we were hunting for Leucostictes’ nests. 

By nature this handsome bird is little afraid of man. Young birds, 
though capable of sustained flight, refuse to believe ill of their human 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


Photo by Pierce 


A BIRD O' FREEDOM POSE 
YOUNG WESTERN REDTAIL 


neighbors, to whom they have done no harm, and they fall easy victims 
to the prevalent bangitis. Older birds may halt on the tree-top for a 
fraction of a second too long, if they suppose the gunner is passing by 
and minding his own business; but if they catch the glint of intent in 
the human eye at a hundred yards, they are off—and safe. 

The Red-tailed Hawk is a soaring bird, a buzzard, to speak accurately, 
although the word has fallen needlessly into disrepute. Buzzard is a 
mere reappearance, through the French, of the Latin Buteo. This, doubt- 
less, from a primitive root now lost, bw or bow. One can almost see in 
this explosive syllable the utterance of a child struck with wonder at 
the near passage of some soaring Hawk. ‘‘Bouw!’’ ‘See, Mamma (Li- 
gurian or Latin matters not), big bird!’’ The wonder of it lies no less 
upon us of more thoughtful years—the wonder of flight, the beauty and the 
witchery of those lazy, high-flung circles. How consonant with sunshine 
and shimmering air and, anon, with peace itself, are those mystic circles 
of endless, unimpassioned quest! 

There is, perhaps, no bird which oftener demands the services of 
binoculars. It is a Hawk, of course; and we think it is a Redtail; but 
we are never quite sure, until we have followed its gyrations long enough 


1678 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


to catch the glint of authentic rufous from the upper surface of the tail. 
Young birds do not show the red, but are obscurely barred instead. 
Of their identity we can be sure only through their association with 
adults, or else by “‘elimination.’’ Redtails, moreover, exhibit many puz- 
zling guises. Both melanism and albinism are common, with erythrism, 
that is, undue reddening of plumage, not unknown. Occasionally speci- 
mens are found which are black as coals, and these may be known with 
certainty only by measurements and averages. The strength of the wind 
or direction of flight are also important elements in sight determination 
of sky-high birds. A Western Redtail presents, normally, a rounded 
wing-tip of separated quills, of which the 4th primary is the longest. 
But a bird coming down against the wind has a sharply pointed wing. 
Careful scrutiny shows that as often as a Redtail comes down in this 
fashion, it reefs the wing by furling the first three primaries under the 
fourth—‘‘as though by means of invisible brails,’’ our nautical man says. 
The change of pattern thus effected is very striking, and the possible 
variations of outline should be borne in mind in the study of all sailing 
birds. 

The devotee of binoculars, moreover, will witness many pretty wing- 
plays and perchance some thrilling aérial contests, if he follows the for- 


Taken in Imperial Valley : S Photo by the Author 


— 
A NEST IN THE DESERT 
THE HOST TREE IS THE OCATILLA (Fouquieria splendens) 


1079 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


Taken on the Mohave Desert Photo by Pierce 
A FRIENDLY DISCUSSION 


THE NEST IS EVIDENTLY IN THE TOP OF A JOSHUA TREE 


tunes of the Redtail. Once a male Prairie Falcon, whose eyrie we found 
later, took it into his head to persecute a Redtail. He circled about 
rapidly and hurled himself again and again at the Hawk, but each time, 
at the expected moment of contact, the Buzzard turned deftly face up, 
presenting his talons to the persecutor; and each time, of course, the 
Falcon swerved short to avoid the parry. Both the birds were very 
much in earnest, to judge from the harsh cries which escaped them at 
the moment of “‘present talons’’; but it was evidently an old game and 
an idle one, too, for no matter at what range or from what angle the 
Falcon struck, the Redtail was always ready, with a quick _half- 
somersault, to receive him. Conducted thus in the open in a fierce 
glare of sunlight, it was surely a battle for the gods to witness—even 
though the issue was only a draw. 

The Redtail is not afraid of the “King of Birds” either. It was 
in the Warner Mountains, July 6, 1912. Possibly the Eagle began the 
scrap, but if he did the Redtail took up the gauntlet with spirit and 
alacrity. When first sighted, the Eagle, a Golden, of course, was chasing 
the Redtail down a long air-slope. The Buteo avoided, dextrously 
enough, and thereafter maintained a superior position from which he 
swooped again and again at his royal nibs. The Eagle was manifestly 
bored, even though he was always prepared, so that the near-collisions 
were harmless; but it was a pretty sight to see the Redtail mount aloft, 


1680 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


fold his wings, and do the cata- 
pult act with all the skill and 
dash of a Falcon. When last 
seen, the Hawk had tired of the 
sport, and was soaring a thou- 
sand feet above the mountain. 
Bring on your Eagles! 

A drawn battle with a mem- 
ber of its own species may be a 
more serious matter. Mr. Henry 
W. Marsden reports! an in- 
stance where two male Redtails 
engaged so violently that they 
fell presently to the earth, and 
were seized by a passerby before 
they could recover their wits, 
or get the blood mists out of 
their eyes. 

Western Redtails nest in- 
differently in trees or upon 
cliffs, but they are studied to 
best advantage when the situ- 
ation allows approach from 
above. The nest is a very sub- 
stantial edifice of sticks and 
twigs, lined with frayed bark 
and, usually, a spray of fresh 
greenery. Ifitisacliff nest, the 
Redtails exhibit some sagacity 
in placing it beyond the reach 
of coyotes and raccoons; and the 
choice of such a romantic situ-  ===s Sas 
ation raises the bird several de- Taken in Arizona INETIOTS Photo by the Author 
grees in the estimation of one 
who has known it heretofore only as a tree-dweller. The birds, as likely 
as not, betray their anxiety by sending down from some far height a strong, 
petulant kee aaay. If the nest is approached, interest becomes frenzy, 
and the Hawks either swoop toward the intruder repeatedly, or flap rest- 
lessly to and fro, uttering their agonized cries. At other times the Hawks 
discuss the situation in sharp notes of a shriller tone, keeak’, keeak’, keeak’. 

The eggs, two or three, or very rarely four in number, are of a dull 


1 Condor, Vol. VII., p. 53. 


LOST 


The Western Red-tailed Hawk 


bluish white, unmarked, or else blotched and clouded with rufous, and 
are laid in March or from the first to the third week in April, according 
to local conditions. Incubation lasts about four weeks, and the young 
remain in the nest five or six weeks longer. The young birds are fed 
exclusively on flesh, and it is a point of honor with the parents to keep an 


abundant supply of this on hand. 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by H. T. Van Winkle 


AN IMMATURE WESTERN REDTAIL 
EVIDENTLY A WOUNDED BIRD 


T6082 


What the chicks cannot eat at once 
is left conveniently near, on one side 
of the nest, and it is an easy matter, 
through frequent visits, to check up 
on the Buteonine bill of fare. 

While the Redtail is, honestly, a 
very beneficial species, he is no saint. 
Prudential considerations, only, 
restrain him from attacks on the 
poultry yard. His staple articles of 
diet are the familiar round of ground 
squirrels, gophers, wood-rats, mice, 
snakes, frogs, lizards and insects. In- 
dividuals differ, naturally, both in 
taste and in prowess. I once fright- 
ened a Redtail from the carcass of a 
fresh-killed Scoter. The duck 
seemed to have been in good flesh, 
but there is always a suspicion of 
such birds along this Santa Barbara 
coast. <A Redtail infant near Cho- 
lame had a headless snake and a 
fledgling House Finch awaiting the 
pleasure of its appetite; but a Brewer 
Blackbird sat undisturbed on eggs 
not two feet away from the young- 
ster’s nose. On Santa Cruz Island 
I saw a male Redtail visit his mate, 
who was just beginning to incubate, 
and leave for her acceptance a dainty 
in the shape of a Rufous-crowned 
Sparrow. Rather high living! but 
Santa Cruz Island is a gopherless, 
squirrelless, wood-ratless and all but 
pestless land. 

These evidences are offered by 
way of concession, and in the interest 


The Red-bellied Hawk 


of scientific accuracy; but lest our enthusiasm for the Western Redtail 
should wane unduly, let us cite the testimony of Mr. Joseph Dixon, who 
writes of the birds of San Onofre:! “Each pair of hawks had its own 
squirrel pasture and the birds resented the trespassing of other hawks 
on their domain. The remains of gophers, ground squirrels, meadow 
mice, young cottontails and two species of snakes, the striped racer and 
gopher snake, were found in Redtails’ nests, but ground squirrels seemed 
to be their principal diet. I found as many species of small mammals 
in hawks’ and owls’ nests in two days as I did by trapping for a week.”’ 


No. 332 


Red-bellied Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 339b. Buteo lineatus elegans (Cassin). 


Synonyms.—RED-BREASTED HAWK. WESTERN RED-SHOULDERED Hawk. 
“CHICKEN” HAwk. “HEN” Hawk. 

Description.—Adult: Above highly varied, brownish dusky, grayish brown 
of two shades, rufous and white; head and neck all around light grayish brown, bordered 
(or not, but at least tinged on throat) with ochraceous and marked with distinct dusky 
shaft-lines; lesser wing-coverts and bend of wing, the “‘shoulders,’’ bright orange- 
rufous, with some blackish shaft-lines; remaining upperparts (chiefly and centrally) 
dark grayish brown or dusky, with marginings of tawny or pale grayish brown on back; 
tail crossed by five or six narrow white bands, including a terminal one; wing-coverts 
heavily barred or spotted and tipped with white; primaries similarly barred throughout, 
but pattern fading toward tips; Ist primary shorter than the 9th, the point of the wing 
formed by the 3rd, 4th, and 5th; the 2nd about equal to the 6th; Ist to 5th emarginate 
on inner web; 2nd to 5th slightly emarginate on outer web; tip of folded wing falling 
three inches or more short of end of folded tail; entire underparts orange-rufous, rich 
or pale, nearly solid on breast, elsewhere usually highly varied or barred with pale 
ochraceous on whitish, but sometimes rufous rich enough to obliterate all pattern; 
throat always (as aforesaid) and breast, occasionally and lightly, blackish shaft- 
streaked. Cere and feet chrome-yellow; bill blackish; claws black. Jmmature: 
Different; dark brown or fuscous above, only traces of rufous on wing-coverts, etc.; 
spotting of quills more ochraceous; tail dusky with seven or eight grayish bars which 
become more ochraceous and gradually obsolete basally; underparts not so richly 
colored as in adult, heavily streaked and striped with dark brown. Adult male: 
length 457.2-508 (18.00-20.00); wing 292.1-342.9 (11.50-13.50); tail 190.5-228.6 (7.50- 
g.00); bill 20 (.79); tarsus 75 (2.95). Adult female: length 508-558.8 (20.00-22.00); 
wing 304.8-355.6 (12.00-14.00) ; tail 215.9-254 (8.50-10.00) ; bill 22 (.86); tarsus 85 (3.35). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; rufous shoulder distinctive; underparts 
usually rich red—more uniform than in the réddest swainsoni. Smaller, more active, 
and more secretive than B. swainsont. 


1Condor, Vol. VIII., July, 1906, p. 92. 


1083 


The Red-bellied Hawk 


Nesting.— Nest: Of sticks, lined indifferently with bark-strips; placed well 
up in tree, eucalyptus, sycamore, or live oak. Eggs: 2 to 4; in coloration much like 
those of preceding species, but usually much more heavily pigmented, sometimes with 
considerable undershell marking of vinaceous gray. Av. of 14 sets, 38 eggs: 52.8 x 
41.9 (2.08 x 1.65); index 79.3. Extremes: 47.75-56.9 by 40.1-43.7 (1.88-2.24 by 1.58- 
1.72). Season: March 20-April 10; one brood. 


Range of Buteo lineatws.—North America from the southern Canadian provinces 
to Florida, northern Mexico, and Lower California. 

Range of B. /. elegans.—Pacific Coast district from southern British Columbia 
to Lower California and Sonora. 


Distribution in California.—Fairly common resident locally in Lower Sonoran 
zone west of the Sierras. Occurs chiefly in the San Joaquin-Sacramento basin and in 
the warm valleys of the south central coastal ranges and in the San Diegan district. 


Authorities.—Gambel (Buteo lineatus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. iii., 
1846, p. 45 (Monterey, etc.; voice); Cassin, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. vii., 1855, 
p. 281 (Buteo elegans, orig. desc.; Calif.); Bendire, Life Hist. N. Am. Birds, vol. i., 1892, 
p. 227 (nesting habits); Sharp, Condor, vol. viiil., 1906, p. 144, figs. (San Diego Co.; 
desc. nest, eggs, etc.); Pzerce, Condor, vol. xxi., 1919, p. 127 (food). 


ALTHOUGH the Red-shouldered Hawk of the eastern United 
States is one of the best-known of Raptors, the western representative 
of the species seems to be not well known, save by a few fortunately placed 
observers. The range of elegans is much restricted, both locally and gen- 
erally, as compared with that of B. borealis calurus; and in those limited 
sections the species ap- 
pears to be sharply on 
the wane. It is best 
known from the western 
valleys of San Diego 
County, from the Sac- 
ramento-Joaquin basin, 
and from the interior 
valleys of the Monterey- 
Santa Barbara system of 
coast ranges. It is, more- 
over, closely confined to 
the lowland timbered 
sections, especially the 
groves (whether of oak, 
willow, cottonwood, or 
sycamore) which line the 
streams. Because of its 


attachment for cover, eae She Cee 


therefore, it does not fig- Taken near San Diego Photo by L. Huey and D. R. Dickey 
NEST AND EGGS OF RED-BELLIED HAWK 
1084 


ure prominently in the local hori- 
zons, even where the bird is known 
to be of regular occurrence. 

Most of our observation of bird- 
life is marred by self-consciousness on 
the bird’s part. The hawk marks 
our distant approach and is ill at 
ease, fearing the gun. Self-conscious- 
ness becomes acute distress when the 
nest is threatened, and the behavior 
of the bird, while not unnatural, is 
still but a narrow revelation of its 
nature. If, however, one can steal 
up unawares and mark the pleasure 
of a mother bird as she rends a car- 
cass and divides the portions among 
her clamoring young, one feels a 
special sense of privilege. It is a 
gift of the fairy wishing-cap. The 
Red-bellied Hawk, too, is one of the 
birds which will respond to the 
screeping call of a concealed ob- 
server. It is her business, no doubt, 
to wait upon all squeaking notes, and 
it is a treat to see her, puzzled, curi- 
ous, but unafraid, as she turns now 
this way and now that upon a shel- 
tered perch and scrutinizes the un- 
dergrowth. The eye is kindly, or a 
little vain perhaps, but there is 
reason enough for pride in that 
gorgeous breast of auburn. When, 
alas, the human disguise is discov- 
ered, the hawk departs in a sudden 
vision of black-and-white-barred up- 
perparts, which is partial compensa- 


The Red-bellied Hawk 


Taken in San Bernardino County Photo by Wright M. Pierce 


EUCALYPTUS 


RED-BELLIED HAWK’S NEST NEAR TOP OF 


tion for the interrupted play. A pair we observed at San Ardo, who were 
charged with the care of a single chick, were so impetuous of movement 
and so fearful of human approach, that it was several days before we 
could determine the species even after the nest was found. Not even the 
scream is uniformly indulged in, but when it is, one may be certain as 
to identity. Mr. Sharp has called the note, not inaptly, ‘‘a short snap- 


1085 


Photo by 
Donald R. Dickey 


YOUNG RED-BELLIED HAWKS 


The Red-bellied Hawk 


ping bark.’ It is repeated in a 
ringing series which sets the woods 
agog, kee a’ kee ad’ kee a’ kee a’, or 
yee-ak’ yee-ak’ yee-ak’. The bird- 
man, especially the egg-man, 
counts this a lovely sound, but it 
is doubtful if the rest of nature’s 
children, either furred or feathered, 
agree with him. 

Of the nesting Mr. C.S. Sharp 
of Escondido is most competent to 
speak:! ‘Unlike the other large 
hawks the red-bellied does not seek 
acommanding situation forits nest. 
It is unusual to find them nesting 
in isolated trees, and it is very 
seldom the nest is visible from any 
great distance as is often the case 
with the Redtail and Swainson 
hawks. The preference 1s for some 
fairly thick willow and cottonwood 
grove and they have a great fond- 
ness for Eucalyptus groves, mak- 
ing their nests at times on the 
masses of bark that have sloughed 
off and collected in some large 
crotch of the main branches. These 
nests are, as a rule, very well con- 
cealed and only flushing the bird, or the sight of the handsomely barred 
tail over the edge, gives proof of what is there. This concealment, how- 
ever, can hardly be considered as deliberate, for beyond the fact of the 
choice of a thick growing tree or a grove for the location of the nest there 
is never any attempt at it. ‘ 

“The nest is generally about 50 feet from the ground, the height de- 
pending largely on the size of the surrounding trees, and may be an old crow’s 
or hawk’s nest remodeled, or an elaborate structure of the bird’s own com- 
position. If undisturbed the same nest will often be occupied year after 
year; but the birds generally have a second or third nest in reserve and 
will alternate, almost invariably doing so if a first clutch of eggs is taken. 
Where the gray Spanish moss is convenient to the nesting place a great 


act 1“Nesting of the Red-bellied Hawk,” by C. S. Sharp, Condor, Vol. VIII., Nov. 1906, pp. 144-148—an excellent 
article. 


1686 


The Zone-tailed Hawk 


deal of that is used in the lining and often the long streamers will hang 
down over the edge giving a very pleasing appearance. 

“The use of green leaves is a peculiarity of this species and it is very 
seldom one finds a nest finished or containing eggs where fresh leaves 
are not in evidence. These are generally of the same tree in which the 
nest is situated and are renewed from time to time until the eggs are 
hatched. I have found them in nests with eggs in all stages of incubation. 
After the young appear the practice is discontinued, the nest soon gets 
flattened out, and with hungry mouths to feed there is little time—if 
there is inclination—for the enjoyment of the merely beautiful.” 

Eggs of elegans are notably less heavily marked than those of /ine- 
atus, although there does not seem to be any constant difference in size. 

All authorities are agreed in giving the Red-bellied Hawk a clean 
bill of health poultry-wise. Instances are cited where the Hawks have 
nested within 800 feet of poultry yards without offering any molestation 
to the inmates, not even to the young chickens. Birds are undoubtedly 
consumed to a limited extent, especially when the young hawks require 
the daintiest food. Elegans seeks humbler quarry as a rule than does 
the noble Redtail. If he rises on occasion to a ground squirrel (Citellus 
beechyi fishert) or a brush rabbit (Sylvilagus auduboni and S. bachmant) 
he oftener descends to fence lizards and frogs, or even insects. The Red- 
bellied Hawk is an exceedingly useful species, and all wanton slaughter 
of these, as of any other Buteo, is criminal—an offense to God and man. 


No. 333 


Zone-tailed Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 340. Buteo abbreviatus Cabanis. 

Synonym.—Banp-TAILED BuzzaArD. 

Description.—Adult: Deep lustrous black, the tail narrowly tipped with white 
and crossed by two narrow bands, ashy gray on the outer webs changing to white on 
the inner ones (hence, appearing gray from above, white from below); indications of a 
third band near base of tail; wing-quills obsoletely black-and-white barred, or at least 
mottled, on inner webs, especially below; feathers of nape white at base; the first four 
primaries emarginate on inner web; the tip of the wing formed by 4th, the 3rd and 5th 
about equal, the 1st about equal to or shorter than the 9th; tip of folded wing falling 
short of end of tail. Bill and claws black; cere and feet yellow. Immature: Much 
like adult, but tail crossed by about ten broad and somewhat irregular bars of gray or 
white; the barring of inner quills much more distinct; some outcropping of basal white 
on head and neck, and some exposure of ill-concealed white spotting on breast, flanks, 
tail-coverts, and inner edges of tertials. Length of adult male about 482.6 (19.00); 


1087 


The Zone-tailed Hawk 


wing 393.7 (15.50); tail 222.25 (8.75); tarsus 63.5 (2.50). Adult female, length 533.4 
(21.00); wing 431.8 (17.00); tail 247.6 (9.75); tarsus 69.85 (2.75). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; coal black plumage with black and white 
banded tail (seen from below) distinctive. Tail-coverts not white, as distinguished 
from Harris’s' Hawk. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California. Nest: Of sticks, lined with bark 
and green leaves; placed high in trees. Eggs: 2; pale bluish white, sometimes lightly 
marked with dull reddish brown. Av. size 54.4 x 43.5 (2.14 x 1.67); index 78.1. 
Season: May. 


General Range.—Lower Sonoran zone from western Texas to Arizona, and south 
through Mexico and Central America to Venezuela and Brazil; casual in southern Cali- 
fornia. 


Occurrence in California.—Casual near San Diego; three records. 


Authorities.—Cooper (Buteo zonocercus), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 1868, 
p. 7 (near San Diego); Linton, Condor, vol. x., 1908, p. 181 (National City); Grinnell, 
Condor, vol. xi., 1909, p. 69 (30 mi. n. San Diego); Grey, Condor, vol. xix., 1917, p. 103 
(San Diego); Mearns, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 60 (Ariz. desc. breeding habits, adult, 
young, etc.). 


BRIEF INQUIRY suffices for a species which has transgressed our 
southern borders upon only three occasions. Needless to remark, the 
three offenders were promptly delivered over to scientific justice, and 
are now doing time in zinc-bound cells in two of our more notable museum 
prisons. Thus do we restrain presumptuous enterprise, and vindicate 
our regard for the established order of things. 

The Zone-tailed Hawk is a black Buteo which enjoys—or suffers 
—an extended southern range, from southern Arizona, New Mexico, and 
Texas, to northern South America. Although of regular occurrence in 
the states named, the first United States record for this species was made 
near Escondido, California, by Dr. J. S. Cooper, Feb. 23, 1862. It has 
been reported by Mr. Anthony as a common species in the San Pedro 
Martir range of Lower California, and it would doubtless have estab- 
lished itself long before this in our southern counties if it had not been 
for the inevitable malady of bangitis which afflicts our jealous race. 
Presumably, where science has claimed these three specimens, for ob- 
vious if regrettable necessities, ranchers have killed thirty in alleged 
defense of their hens. Nothing new can happen in a world so consti- 
tuted. The Zone-tailed Hawk, innocent, useful, interesting, will never 
be allowed to become a citizen of southern California. 


1088 


The Swainson Hawk 


No. 334 


Swainson’s Hawk 


A. O. U. No. 342. Buteo swainsoni Bonaparte. 


Description.—Adult male in normal plumage: Upperparts dark brown, fairly 
uniform as compared with other Buteos, but centers of feathers inclining to lustrous 
blue-black, the edges somewhat varied by lighter, or reddish brown; feathers of back, 
crown, and nape with darker shafts, and the hind-neck with some outcropping of 
basal white; upper tail-coverts lighter (area usually conspicuous in flight as whitish 
patch), mingled gray, ochraceous, and white, with narrow bars of dusky; tail lightening 
and changing to gray laterally, crossed by 8 or 10 narrow and not very distinct dusky 
bands, of which the distal member much the largest; flight feathers dark brown to 
purplish slate (according to age), lightly or scarcely barred on inner webs in de- 
creasing ratio; point of folded wing formed by 3rd and 4th quills, reaching nearly 
to end of tail, the 5th primary much shorter, about equal to the 2nd; Ist longer than 
the 8th; the first three emarginate on inner web, the 2nd and 4th on outer; throat white, 
nearly immaculate; chest crossed by broad band of bright chestnut, marked by blackish 
shaft-lines; remaining underparts white, varied more or less by chestnut-rufous; the 
lining of wings and crissum nearly immaculate. Jn melanistic phase: Throat pen- 
cilled with black, and underparts clouded, chiefly in crosswise pattern, with chestnut; 
upperparts dark sooty brown. (All stages of intergradation between this and normal 
plumage.) Bill bluish black above and on tip, bright yellow on cere, gape, and base 
of lower mandible; feet blackish; iris brown. Adult female: Similar to male, but 
chest-band much darker, dark chestnut to brownish black; and remaining underparts 
clouded and barred with chestnut or black on white ground; and white-barred poster- 
iorly. In melanistic phase: Dark sooty brown above. Immature: Above dark 
brown, varied by tawny edgings of feathers; head, neck, and underparts, including 
lining of wings, dull tawny or light brown, the throat and middle of breast often nearly 
immaculate, the head and neck sharply and narrowly streaked, breast, flanks, etc., 
spotted or blotched variously, with blackish; quills and rectrices somewhat as in adult, 
but barring usually a little more distinct. Adult male, length 482.6-508 (19.00-20.00) ; 
extent 1244.6 (49.00); wing 386.1 (15.20); tail 215.9 (8.50); tarsus 62.2 (2.45). Adult 
female, length 520.7-558.8 (20.50-22.00); extent 1270-1422.4 (50.00-56.00); wing 406.4 
(16.00); tail 241.3 (9.50); tarsus 76 (3.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; white throat; chestnut pectoral band of male, 
dark chestnut and blackish of underparts in common melanistic plumage; usually 
displays whitish rump; tail shorter and all proportions stouter as compared with 
Marsh Hawk (which also has white rump); less stout and without red tail, as distin- 
guished from B. borealis calurus. But there is no certain field mark by which a young 
Swainson may be known from a young Red-tail. 

Nesting.— Nest: A stout platform of sticks, lined with bark-strips and fresh 
leaves, placed at moderate heights in deciduous trees, tree yuccas, or sahuaros, some- 
times on cliffs, rarely on the ground. Occasionally an old nest of crow or magpie is 
refitted. Eggs: 1 to 4, usually 2; pale greenish-, bluish-, or grayish-white, often 
tinged or obscurely spotted, rarely blotched, with dull reddish brown of various shades 
or vinaceous gray. Av. size 56.5 x 44 (2.22 x 1.73). 

General Range.—North and South America. In North America only casual 
east of the Mississippi River. Breeds from Alaska, northwestern Mackenzie, and 


1089 


The Swainson Hawk 


Manitoba, south to Chile and Argentina. Winters chiefly south of the United States, 
but also irregularly northward to South Dakota and western Washington. 


Distribution in California.— Common migrant, sporadically abundant through- 
out the State, save in humid coast belt. Common summer resident in Lower and 
Upper Sonoran zones both east and west of the Sierras but less common on the south- 
eastern deserts. Less common and probably breeding in more open situations of 
Transition zone, and a frequent invader, at the close of the breeding season, of Canadian 
zone. Not found in winter. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Buteo swainsont), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
ili., 1846, p. 45 (Calif.); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 355 (syn.; desc.; crit.; 
habits, ete.); Sharp, Condor, vol. iv., 1902, p. 116 (San Diego Co.; nesting habits, etc.). 


ALL THE LEFT-OVER Hawks are Swainsons. That is, if it hasn’t 
a red tail (B. b. calurus), or an especially long tail (Circus cyaneus hud- 
sonius), and if it isn’t conspicuously black-and-white barred above (B. J. 
elegans), or below (Accipiter coopert), and if, and if, and 1f—why, then, it 
must be a Swainson Hawk. And at that you'll never know for sure that 
you hav’n’t a young Redtail or an undersized Ferruginous Rough-leg. 
Knowledge of the Swainson Hawk, therefore, must always be founded on 
gun-work and maintained by the exercise of that sixth sense, instinct, 
which comes in varying degrees to veteran ornithologists. Fortunately, 
two elements of relief are vouchsafed us. The Swainson Hawk is never 
here in winter (if it is, ship the specimen forthwith to the Museum of 
Vertebrate Zoology, Berkeley, or to the International Museum of Com- 
parative Oology, Santa Barbara), and it has what looks like a white rump. 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
SWAINSONIA 


7090 


This last mark serves to 
distinguish it from all ex- 
cept the Marsh Hawk, 
which has a much longer 
tail, as well as slenderer 
proportions. 

But the very prolixity 
of this warning will ac- 
quaint the novice with the 
unceasing danger of mis- 
identification. B. swain- 
sont is always getting in 
the way, appearing unex- 
pectedly, and upsetting all 
calculations. But don't 
shoot all the hawks just 
to make sure. Uncertainty 
is sometimes a virtue. Live 
birds are better than cold 
facts. 

Although a prairie 
bird, Swainson’s is a little 
heavy on the wing. When 
he flaps, he does so with 
exaggerated zeal, as though 
to prove ability in a little 
wonted exercise; but as a 
sailor, or perhaps one should 
say sailer, he is a passed 
master. He leans hard on 
the breeze, and it carries 
him whithersoever he will. 
He travels without pro- 


The Swainson Hawk 


Taken on the Mohave Desert Photo by Wright M. Pierce 


A SWAINSON’S NEST IN A JOSHUA TREE 
THE TREE (Yucca arborescens) IS ONE OF THE FINEST EXAMPLES OF THIS WEIRD DESERT TYPE 


pulsion other than that of the wind, for he has learned to balance gravity 
against wind-thrust in a fashion which only a few of the more experienced 
air-men have yet attained. But because the plains are large and its land- 
marks few, the Swainson Hawk is not infrequently seen at rest, upon a 
fence-post by the roadside, on a tall sage-bush, upon a willow by the 
river's brink, or even upon the ground. In the wooded country they are 
seldom seen a-wing, and evidently spend much time studying the ground 
from the vantage point of tree-tops or commanding limbs. 

Of course, the bird has won the highly distinctive name of ‘“‘Hen 


O91 


The Swainson Hawk 


Hawk”’ because he looks as if he might carry off a hen. But as a matter 
of fact, he wouldn’t. He is content with far humbler quarry, such as 
mice, moles, gophers, and the much-detested California ground squirrel. 
Insects, such as grasshoppers, crickets, beetles, and the like, form an even 
greater proportion of its food, and the Hawk is to be regarded as highly 
beneficial. No more eloquent testimony could be adduced for its harm- 
lessness than the almost habitual nesting of smaller birds in the same tree 
with a Swainson Hawk. 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
FEELING A LITTLE GROGGY 


A DAZED SWAINSON HAWK WHICH WE PHOTOGRAPHED ad /ib. 


Many observers have testified to this quaint form of hospitality, 
and the following species of birds are known to have built into the actual 
structure or under the shelter of occupied nests of the Hawk: Lanius ludo- 
vicianus excubitorides, Icterus bullocki, I. cucullatus nelsoni, Carpodacus 
mexicanus frontalis, and Tyrannus verticalis. The last-named is an espe- 
cially common commensal, probably because exposed portions of the hawk’s 
prey, left, as they so often are, upon the side of the nest, are an attractive 
bait for insects. Yet the bird whose portrait is presented herewith was 
evidently suffering from the zeal of an undiscerning Tyrant. We picked 
him up in a dazed condition, and figured from all the evidence that he must 
have been struck by a Western Kingbird and put hors de combat, as he was 


1092 


The Swainson Hawk 


innocently breasting the 
wind in the vicinity of 
the Tyrant’s nest. 

In regions where the 
bird is not much dis- 
turbed, nesting is con- 
ducted at any height. 
A willow tree fifteen feet 
high, or an ocatilla of 
six, will do as well as 
asycamore of fifty. Un- 
der persecution, how- 
ever, the bird, according 
t© Mir C, S, Shajo,? 
soon learns discretion, 
and places its nest 
on tipmost limbs 
or outermost. 
branches which 
defy molestation. 

The species is, Taken in Merced County A RORRUNL, DRONES Photo by the Author 
therefore, very 

adaptable in its requirements. In Arizona we found it nesting in the 
thorny embrace of the giant cactus. Another observer, Lieutenant Ben- 
son, found forty-one nests in a single season, all placed in mesquite trees 
at heights of from 3 to 15 feet. Sharp finds them in western San Diego 
County in tall sycamores, formerly occupied by the Red-bellied Hawk. 
Sometimes, though rarely, they nest on rock ledges, or projections on the 
face of earthy bluffs. At Goose Lake, in Modoc County, I found a nest 
in which these birds evinced a proprietary interest, 100 feet up in a giant 
yellow pine tree. The tree was 12 feet around at the base, and it was 25 
feet to the first live limb. [Remarks made by the author on the 17th 
day of June, upon the occasion of finding the nest still empty, have been 
properly deleted by the censor.] 

The nesting platform is usually rather small for the size of the bird, 
measuring, as it does, less than two feet in diameter by a foot, or such 
a matter, in depth. It is composed entirely of sticks, but is lined afresh 
each year with dried grass, bark-strips, or small leafy twigs. One seen in 
a northern locality contained a quantity of the flowering twigs of a willow 
(Salix amygdaloides) and had quite a pleasing appearance. 

The Hawks spend a good deal of time in the vicinity of their nests 


1“Nesting of Swainson Hawk,"’ Condor, Vol. IV., Sept. 1902, p. 117. 


1093 


The Swainson Hawk 


Taken on the Mohave Desert Photo by Pierce 
NEST IN JOSHUA TREE, FROM ABOVE 


even before deposition of eggs has begun; and if a first set is taken, the 
female is very likely to entrust a second to the same nest. Two or three, 
rarely four, eggs are laid, at intervals of two days, and they require 
twenty-eight days of incubation. Eggs are rarely deposited before the 
middle of April, so that the young are not often a-wing before the last 
week in June. Always unwary, except where unjustly persecuted, the 
Swainson Hawk will often allow a near inspection of its person; while a 
young bird imagines you are joking, and gapes appreciatively when you 
fling it a tentative clod from the roadside. 

Swainson’s Hawk is the most conspicuously migratory of any of the 
Hawks, and it sometimes travels in great companies numbering over 
a thousand individuals. Such a notable movement the author witnessed 
as a child in western Kansas. An east-and-west-lying creek bed pre- 
sented in its fringing timber of elm the only opportunity for shelter to be 
had for miles in either direction. Into the more prominent trees of this 
coveted timber, on a late October afternoon, came a large detachment 
of migratory hawks, to the number of a thousand or so. No doubt 
the Swainson Hawks formed the bulk of the predatory host, gone into 


1004 


The Swainson Hawk 


camp for the night, but the most notable feature of the gathering was the 
variety of its constituent species. At least it seemed to an excited small 
boy that hawks of every shape, size, and hue were seated before him, 
paying no attention to his presence, save to yawn as they reviewed the 
day’s long journey. Shades of Audubon! What a sight! But that was 
before the days of the Graflex. 


Taken in Arizona Photo by the Author 
A SWAINSON HAWK'S NEST IN SAHUARO 


These migratory flights of Swainson Hawks may be witnessed oc- 
casionally in almost any western region. Since the breeding range of the 
species extends from southern California to Alaska, the north-bound 
parties must at some post pass over their established fellows in successive 
waves. Mr. Sharp, however,! finds that the southernmost stations are 
not the ones first occupied. ‘‘The Swainson Hawks arrived here (Es- 
condido) from the south about the roth to the 20th of March, sometimes 
in large flocks or in bands of a dozen or two. The earliest and largest 
flocks all go north, the summer residents not coming till a couple or three 


1Qp. cit., p. 117. 


1695 


The American Rough-leg 


weeks later and going at once to their quarters, which they refit prepara- 
tory to permanent occupancy later on.”’ 

On April 4th, 1914, Mr. Adriaan van Rossem saw thirty birds, chiefly 
of the dark type, moving north at Pomona. On the 3rd of May of that 
same year I saw a languid company of 24 birds at Goleta, in Santa Barbara 
County. On the 18th of April, 1916, we witnessed a notable movement 
of these birds over the Carriso Plains, where we had paused for a midday 
lunch. The birds were trending north, but in such a leisurely fashion 
that it was difficult to realize that their course had a distant goal. The 
hawks soared about silently, on the lookout for food, and they gravitated 
toward any point of interest, however trivial. Once a dozen of them made 
our automobile the center of attention, and we obtained intimate views 
of some ‘‘Beauty, Ohs”’ with purplish dark brown underparts. Many 
passed so close that the fine banding of the tail was distinctly revealed. 
Otherwise, the lightening of color toward the base of the tail, or upon the 
basal two-thirds of the tail (in which case definitely rufous) was the 
notable ‘“‘recognition mark.’”’ The show lasted for an hour or so, and there 
were at one time above a hundred birds in sight. 


No. 335 


American Rough-les 


A. O. U. No. 347a. Buteo lagopus sanctijohannis (Gmelin). 
Synonyms.—AMERICAN ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. ROUGH-LEGGED BuzzarD. 


Description.—Adult, normal (light) phase: Head and neck all around white 
or flaxen, narrowly streaked with dark brown, sparingly on throat; remaining upper- 
parts dark brown or brownish fuscous, varied by ochraceous or ochraceous-buffy, 
marginal brownish gray and outcropping white; wing-quills not barred, at least on 
exposed surfaces, but grayish-edged and with much basal white on inner web; four outer 
primaries deeply emarginate; upper tail-coverts and basal portion of tail (usually for 
more than half its length) white; terminal portion of tail crossed by broad, subterminal 
band of dusky, and usually by several narrow, irregular or broken bands anterior to 
this; underparts whitish, or pale ochraceous-buffy, spotted or broadly streaked, chiefly 
on breast, with blackish; a loose broken band of dusky across belly; thighs often 
ochraceous; tarsi feathered to the toes, in front; feet yellow; bill and claws black. Imma- 
ture, normal phase: Similar to adult, but terminal portion of tail plain grayish brown; 
primaries with basal white on external web; markings of underparts confluent on belly 
in a broad, unbroken, abdominal belt of deep brown; thighs spotted with dusky. 
Adult and immature, melanistic phase: Entire plumage black, in any degree, save that 
the tail is white-barred and primaries exhibit some basal white. This phase is quite 
common and seems to be independent of age, sex, or season. Both sexes: length 
495-3-596.9 (19.50-23.50); wing 400.1-457.2 (15.75-18.00); tail 228.6-279.4 (9.00-11.00) ; 
culmen from cere 20.3-25.4 (.80-1.00). Female about two inches longer than male 
and correspondingly proportioned. 


1096 


The American Rough-leg 


Recognition Marks.—Brant size; feathered tarsi distinctive; best recognized 
in the field by its, usually, dark coloration and heavy flight; basal white of tail also 
distinctive if properly discriminated from that of the upper tail-coverts of the Marsh 
Hawk; black or brownish and white in large masses on under surface of wing. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A bulky affair placed high in 
trees or on ledges of rock; of sticks, fairly well lined with bark-strips, leaves, and soft 
materials. Eggs: 2 or 3, sometimes 4 or 5; quite variable in size, shape, and pig- 
mentation; bluish white or dull white, sometimes unmarked, but oftener spotted, 
blotched, or streaked with reddish brown or chocolate, and with more or less under- 
shell marking of vinaceous gray. Av. size 56.5 x 45 (2.22 x 1.77). 

Range of Buteo lagopus——Northern portion of Northern Hemisphere, south in 
winter to southern United States, southern Europe, and Japan. 


Range of B. /. sanctijohannis.—Breeds in Alaska and the northern Canadian 
Provinces; winters from the northern boundary of the United States (or from Colorado 
or the Plains region) south to central California and the Gulf States. 

Distribution in California.—Of rare occurrence in winter south at least to 
Santa Clara and Fresno. Has been much confused with succeeding form and trust- 
worthy records are few. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Butaétes sanctijohannis), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
ill, 1846, p. 45 (upper Calif., winter); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 43 
(San Joaquin Valley; habits); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 11, 1915, p. 66 (status 
in Calif.). 


A LARGE, dark-colored bird, “bigger than a Hawk and not as big 
as an Eagle,”’ seen in winter flying heavily to and fro across the meadows 
at a low height, or perching for considerable stretches of time on pasture 
boulders, fence-posts, or low stubs, commanding open situations, may 
safely be put down in the note-book as an American Rough-legged Buz- 
zard. If seen in air, the bird may remind one of a Turkey Vulture out 
of season, but a second glance will take account of its fan-shaped tail, 
its shorter wings, and rather more rapid movement. The species is 
largely crepuscular, almost nocturnal, in habit, and is to be looked for 
on dark days rather than bright ones. Its food consists almost exclu- 
sively of field mice and other small rodents, although an occasional rabbit 
may vary its fare. 

As might be inferred from the humble nature of its quarry, the Rough- 
leg is a peaceable bird, rather sluggish in movement, and, except where per- 
secuted, quite unsuspicious of man. While hopelessly “‘ignoble’”’ from the 
Falconer’s standpoint, the bird has a fine presence and a bright eye; and it 
would seem to deserve the name “‘gentle,”’ rather better than does the rapa- 
cious Peregrine. Its occasional presence with us in winter is entirely bene- 
ficial, and the bird should be carefully protected. 

Evidently considerable confusion has always existed as between this 
and the succeeding species, B. ferrugineus. The latter is typically white 
below, but is not infrequently melanistic, and I believe that dark speci- 


1097 


The Ferruginous Rough-leg 


mens are more frequent upon the Pacific Coast than on the Great Plains. 
The American Rough-leg is almost anything in plumage, from lightly 
mottled brown to black, and its general appearance is exceedingly variable. 
Dr. Cooper naively conjectured that the bird might breed ‘‘in the high 
mountains’; but later observations have failed to substantiate the claims of 
the American Rough-leg to a place on the breeding list of any western state. 


No. 336 


Ferruginous Rough-le¢g 


A. O. U. No. 348. Buteo ferrugineus (Lichtenstein). 

Synonyms.—CALiIFORNIA SQUIRREL HAWK. FERRUGINOUS ROUGH-LEGGED 
BUZZARD. 

Description.—Adult, normal phase: Head above and on sides, back, wing- 
coverts, and rump, mingled blackish and chestnut-brown, each feather darker cen- 
trally and edged with chestnut, the forehead and sides of head further edged or mingled 
with white; primaries blackish with glaucous bloom on outer webs, shafts chiefly white, 
and inner webs largely whitish; the remaining quills similar but more or less blackish- 
and whitish-barred on inner webs; tail below silvery white, above mingled ashy and 
ferruginous with white base and tip; head above and sides black-and-white streaked 
in about equal amounts; underparts chiefly white, the chest lightly marked with 
rusty; throat, neck, and breast with sharp blackish shaft-streaks; flanks, flags, and 
tarsi strongly tinged with rusty red and marked with blackish; also more or less marking 
of chestnut on belly and sides. Adults, melanistic phase: Above rich chocolate brown; 
below mingled with rusty and chocolate; tail unchanged. Bill dark bluish; feet and 
cere yellow; irides light brown or yellow. Immature: Upperparts grayish brown 
(bister nearly) with tawny edgings; tail without rusty, white for basal third, remainder 
grayish brown, crossed by several indistinct dusky bands; underparts nearly pure 
white, not tinged with rusty posteriorly, but sparingly marked, as on sides of breast, 
flanks, and shanks, with dusky. Adult male, length 571.5 (22.50); extent 1384.2 
(54.50); wing 421.6 (16.60); tail 254 (10.00); tarsus 69.9 (2.75). Adult female, length 
603.3 (23.75); extent 1435 (56.50); wing 457.2 (18.00) ; tail 273.1 (10.75); tarsus 85 (3.35). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; soaring flight or sluggish flapping; strong 
mingling of rusty red above, distinctive in any adult plumage; white of underparts 
shading to rusty posteriorly, of normal plumage, unique. 

Nesting.— Nest: A bulky platform of sticks on ledge or cliff, rarely in trees; 
lined with fresh twigs and green branches, or variously. Eggs: 2 to 4; white, or green- 
ish white, rarely immaculate, usually handsomely spotted and blotched, boldly or 
obscurely, sometimes sprinkled, with soft reddish browns or rich rufous (Rood’s brown, 
cinnamon-brown, russet, hazel, carob-brown), and with undershell markings of vina- 
ceous gray. Av. of 15 specimens in the M. C. O. coll.: 59.5 x 46.5 (2.34 x 1.83); index 
78. Extremes: 55-65 by 42-51.2 (2.16-2.56 by 1.65-2.016). Season: April 25-May; 
one brood. 

General Range.—Breeds in the Great Plains region of western North America 
from northern Montana, southern Saskatchewan, and southern Manitoba, south to 
Colorado and Kansas. Apparently the only authentic record of the nesting of this 


7698 


The Ferruginous Rough-leg 


bird west of the Rocky Mountains is that by C. S. McCarthy in Rush Valley, Utah, 
May 3, 1859 (Bendire, ‘‘Life Histories,’ vol. i., p. 262). Winters south to Lower 
California and Mexico and casually east to Illinois and Wisconsin. 


Distribution in California.—Formerly abundant winter resident and migrant 
both in San Diego district and San Joaquin-Sacramento Valley; also on northeastern 
plateau. Now very rare; three occurrences reported in past dozen years. The ‘‘breed- 
ing record’ (Cosumnes River, 1851, Heermann, Pac. R. R. Rep., x., 1859, pp. 32, 33) 
is very unsatisfactory. 

Authorities.—Lichtenstein (Falco [Buteo] ferrugineus), Abhand. Konigl. Akad. 
Wiss., Berlin, 1838, p. 428 (orig. desc.; Monterey); Cowes, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
1866, p. 46 (s. Calif.; desc., meas.; anatomical); zbid., Birds of the Northwest, 1874, 
p. 363 (syn., desc.; habits, etc.); Oberholser, Auk, vol. xxxvi., 1919, p. 420 (syst., 
nomencl.). 


HOWEVER sanguine one’s temperament, it is impossible to follow 
the history of this gently noble bird of prey without being overtaken by 
sadness. Our human breed is still, apparently, so undeveloped, so un- 
aware, that many noble aspects of nature and many precious fellow 
creatures must be sacrificed before we will give effective heed to the 
modern prophets of conservation. In particular, our ruthless and undis- 
criminating slaughter of the birds of prey is one of the most deplorable of 
all examples of human folly. Jealousy of the hawk is as ancient as the 
institution of hens. Nay, it is more ancient, for, without doubt, Urbuteo, 
the Pleistocene hawk, quick of eye, must at some time have seized and 
borne off a rabbit which our shaggy ancestor, Onkh, had just bowled over 
with a far-flung stone. His Hairy Highness was disgruntled. The feud 
was on, and war thenceforth was incessant, with the odds in favor of the 
bird until the modern shot-gun appeared. The rest was easy. We are 
avenged! Yes; and immeasurably impoverished. 

Take, for example, the case of the ‘California Squirrel Hawk.” 
These Ferruginous Rough-legs were so common in the early days, the 
Fifties and Sixties of last century, and their presumptive usefulness was 
so clearly noted, that by common consent they received the name of 
California Squirrel Hawk. As destroyers of those hated rodents Citella 
beecheyi and their allies, the Squirrel Hawks were worth their weight in gold 
to the young State of California. They were never known to attack or 
destroy domestic fowl of any kind. Yet so poorly did our fathers requite 
their services that a recent authority! could say: ‘‘Now notably scarce 
or altogether wanting in all regions from which recent reports have been 
made.’’ Contrast this with Cooper’s account written in, or at least valid 
for, 1870:_ “This large and powerful bird abounds in spring and fall in 
the southwestern parts of California, ... I found it common in December 
at Martinez, and few probably migrate beyond (1. e. south of) this State. 


1Grinnell: A Distributional List o ithe Birds of California, Oct. 25, 1915, p. 66. 


1099 


The Ferruginous Rough-leg 


It is usually seen sailing slowly over the plains, sometimes in circles, oc- 
casionally pouncing down obliquely upon its prey, which consists chiefly 
of the large ground-squirrels. It usually alights upon the ground, but 
often on trees also.”’ 

The moving cause of the intervening slaughter was chiefly idle sport, 
though Dr. Brewer! cites an instance of a more worthy, if somewhat 
amusing, consideration: ‘‘The specimens procured by Mr. Kerr were 
taken in the Tulare Valley, in January, 1846, and are stated in his notes 
to have been remarkably fat, and in excellent condition generally, so that 
some of his party shot these birds whenever opportunity offered, for the 
mess-kettle, and considered them very good eating.”’ 

The early writers assumed from the bird’s abundance that it was a 
California breeder, and Dr. Heermann made a specific report of a set of 
two eggs taken from a nest in the fork of an oak on the Consumnes River. 
Both the circumstances surrounding the nest, and the appearance of the 
eggs themselves, which are still preserved, justify the suspicion that what 
Dr. Heermann really found was a nest of the Swainson Hawk. In like man- 
ner, Dr. Coues’ assumptions regarding Arizona localities, especially Fort 
Whipple, have been disproved. There is a record,? backed by skins, of a 
nest found in Rush Valley in northern Idaho, May 3rd, 1859; and I am 
inclined to think that this may prove to have been the westernmost 
breeding station for the species.’ Its center of abundance in the breeding 
season Is the prairie section of Dakota, Montana, and Saskatchewan; and 
its nests are usually placed upon the ground or upon some commanding 
pinnacle of rock. We have usually denied ourselves the right to follow 
our winter guests ‘out of bounds,’ but I cannot forbear to quote a bit 
of first-hand testimony from an observer in Montana: “I have watched 
the hawks often through glasses in our alfalfa field after the first crop 
has been taken off. The pocket gophers get pretty busy tunneling and 
pushing all the loose damp earth up in piles on the surface. The hawks 
fly slowly over the field until they discover a fresh pile of damp earth. 
Here they will alight softly, and wait for the gopher to push close to the 
surface. They will then spread their wings, and rising a few feet in the 
air come down stiff-legged into the loose earth, when the gopher is trans- 
fixed and brought out. I have seen them eat the gopher where caught, and 
at other times carry it away.’’ California could afford to subsidize about 
four million gopher traps of that type: What fools we have been! 


1 Baird, Brewer & Ridgway: ‘‘A History of North American Birds,” Vol. III., p. 303. 

2? Bendire: Life Histories, Vol. I., p. 262. 

3 This in spite of a circumstantial account published by the author in ‘‘ The Birds of Washington,” of a set taken 
near Chelan, April 10, 1896. The evidence in this case, justly questioned by Major Brooks, is puzzling and incon- 
clusive. The two eggs taken resemble those of Swainson’s Hawk (Buteo swainsoni), and the measurements, 62.7 
x 46.5 and 61.1 x 46.7, suggest the maximum of that species rather than the average 63 x 40, of Buteo ferrugineus. 
The nest was a large one, placed midway of a sheer granite cliff 125 feet in height. The birds impressed me by their 
large size, but they were very wary and could not, unfortunately, be secured. 

4W. P. Sullivan, in epist. to E. S. Cameron, Auk, Vol. XXXI., April 1914, p. 166. 


7700 


The Golden Eagle 
No. 337 


Golden Eagle 


A. O. U. No. 349. Aquila chrysaétos (Linnezus). 


Description.—Adults: General plumage rich dark brown, the feathers with 
considerable individual variability, sometimes purplish lustrous, sometimes paling 
on wing-coverts, etc.; the lanceolate feathers of occiput and cervix buffy-tipped and 
tawny-edged (scarcely ‘‘golden,”’ but the name arises here); wing-quills and tail black- 
ish (in fresh feather bluish- or purplish-lustrous), the latter clouded or obscurely barred 
for the basal two-thirds with grayish brown and whitish; tarsi, fully feathered to the 
toes, paler or whitish. The birds become somewhat gray with age. Immature: 
Like adult but blacker; basal two-thirds of tail plain white, contrasting with terminal 
black; a vaguely rounded whitish area on under surface of wing; tarsi still paler than 
those of adult. Nestling: Covered with pure white down; quills and tail showing 
blackish. Adult male, length 762-914.4 (30.00-36.00); wing about 609.6 (24.00); 
tail 368.3 (14.50); bill 40.6 (1.60); tarsus 95.3 (3.75). Adult female, length 889-1016 
(35.00-40.00); wing about 660.4 (26.00); tail 393.7 (15.50); bill 45.7 (1.80); tarsus 
106.2 (4.18). Hind claw along curve 65 (2.56); expanse of wings from six and one-half 
to seven and one-half feet. 

Recognition Marks.—Largest. Not easily distinguished at distance from 
immature Bald Eagle; feathered tarsi, of course, distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: A bulky platform of sticks with a shallow inner depression 
lined with grass, bark-strips, sage-leaves, or other soft substance, placed in inaccessible 
situations on cliffs, or less commonly in trees. Eggs: 1, 2 or 3, rarely 4; ovate or 
rounded ovate; white, sometimes immaculate, but usually speckled, spotted, blotched, 
or wholly immersed in soft browns (vinaceous buff and fawn-color to russet-hazel and 
rich rufous). Av. of 20 eggs in the M. C. O. coll.: 73.8 x 58.1 (2.906 x 2.287); index 
78.7. Extremes: 66.8-81 by 53.3-61.7 (2.63-3.19 by 2.10-2.43). Season: Feb. 15- 
April; one brood. 

General Range.—The northern portion of the Northern Hemisphere, south 
to northern Africa, the Himalayas, China, and Mexico, chiefly in mountainous districts. 
In North America, from northern Alaska, northwestern Mackenzie, central Keewatin, 
and northern Ungava, south to central Lower California, central Mexico, and Texas, 
and east of the Rocky Mountains to the Black Hills (South Dakota), Manitoba, 
northern New England, and Nova Scotia, and rarely in the Allegheny Mountains south 
to North Carolina. 

Distribution in California.—Formerly abundant in all mountainous districts, 
save in the humid coastal strip. Now rapidly diminishing in numbers, but still fairly 
common in the coastal ranges south of San Francisco Bay and the mountains of the 
San Diegan district. Found also less commonly in the Sierra Nevada and along the 
inner northern coast ranges and in the Warner Mountains. 

Authorities.—Heermann (Aquila canadensis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. x., 
1859, p. 30 (Livermore Pass; Mokelumne River); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 
1893, p. 93, pl. 13 (food, etc.); Finley, Condor, vol. viii., 1906, p. 5, figs. (Santa Clara 
Co., desc. and photos of nest, eggs, young, etc.); Oberholser, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. 
Surv. no. 27, 1906, p. 20 (economic; habits, distr., food, etc.); Muller, Univ. Calif. 
Publ. Geol., vol. vi., 1911, p. 307 (fossil). 


T7701 


The Golden Eagle 


Taken in Fresno County Photo by the Author 
A VEILED THRONE 


TEHIPITE DOME SHOWS THE EAGLE A SHEER HALF MILE OF GRANITE 


BECAUSE of the racial weakness for symbols and striking generaliza- 
tions, we have been taught that the Golden Eagle is the embodiment of 
all regal qualities, including courage, magnanimity, and valor in defense 
of offspring. There is some foundation for all this. In his mountain home 
the majestic flight of the Eagle truly befits the grandeur of the scene. 
Cradled on a beetling cliff and schooled in the clouds, it is little wonder 
that the Eagle should have become for us the symbol of both prowess and 
aspiration. Even in captivity there is something awful about his piercing 
eye, and the unrest of the royal captive appeals to all that is chivalrous in 
our natures. 

But the reputation of the Eagle race, quite as in the case of our own, 
has been made by a few individuals, and their feats are a revelation of the 
possibilities inherent in the breed rather than chapters from common life. 
Never shall I forget the pained disappointment over my first Eagle’s nest 
ina northern county. The situation was romantic enough—a ledge of rock 
some three hundred and fifty feet up on the side of the gulch, and seventy- 
five feet clear of the talus below. At the time of my first visit, May 18th, 
the nest contained two eaglets about six weeks old. Armed with a stout 


1702 


The Golden Eagle 


birchen staff, I worked my way over to a secure footing within a dozen 
feet of the nest. The remaining distance was a nasty bit of climbing, and 
I preferred to await the first onslaught of the outraged parents where 
there would be some chance of defense. Fudge! The fire-eating birds 
appeared once or twice in the middle distance, but paid no more attention 
to the peril of their offspring than as if I had been a magpie coveting the 
crumbs from the royal table. 

Three weeks later I revisited the nest and put the eaglets to flight. 
One of the old birds came up and superintended the gliding downfall of the 
less capable child; but seeing her safely upon the ground, immediately 
went away marmot-hunting in perfect unconcern. If there is one bird 


Taken in San Diego County Pholo by the Author 
A GOLDEN EAGLE’S NEST FROM ABOVE 


above another of a gentle and unsuspecting nature, I judge the Golden 
Eagle to be that bird. But doubtless this, also, is a hasty generalization. 

Whereas generations of gun-fire have taught the Eagle a wholesome 
respect for mankind, there is no doubt that their innate ferocity, goaded 
by hunger, still impels them to daring feats wherever their natural prey 
is concerned. Not only do the eagles capture foxes, raccoons, and all 
other creatures capable of inflicting injury in turn, but they brave the 


T7O3 


The Golden Eagle 


brute force of some of the larger animals, sheep, goats and even bucks. 
Mr. F. C. Willard reports a case from the Chiricahua Mountains where 
Golden Eagles attacked a four-point white-tailed deer, as it was flounder- 
ing in the snows, and killed it by sinking their talons deeply into its back. 
Fawns frequently fall victims to the Eagle’s claw, and a successful attack 
of this sort often involves keeping the mother deer at bay. It is for this 
reason that Eagles usually hunt in pairs; and I have been told, on what I 
consider good authority, that calves are sometimes killed by the combined 
ferocity and cunning of a robber team. In such a case, one bird devotes 
itself to distracting the mother cow by an aggressive mien, by hectoring 
and swooping, or by actual buffets of the wing. The Eagle’s mate, mean- 
while, is pulling down the calf; and the two birds feast when the mother’s 
sorrow has been forgotten. 

Of course the Eagles oftener subsist upon a plainer fare. Rabbits, 
ground squirrels, and spermophiles are consumed in enormous quantities, 
sometimes to the decided benefit of local agriculture; and sometimes the 
birds descend to snakes, lizards, and the lowly rat. Marmots are great 
favorites in the northern hilly sections; whereas, in more open country 
the birds take up the pursuit of grouse or waterfowl. Some fifteen years 


RP 


:s 


a 2 2 & « 
Se ae a ee 


bas 
— 


a er 
7 


Taken in San Diego County Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF GOLDEN EAGLE, IN SITU 


1704 


The Golden Eagle 


Taken in Inyo County Photo by the Author 
A THRONE FOR THE GOLDEN EAGLE 


UNIVERSITY PEAK, IN THE SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS 


ago, Oberholser estimated! that the Golden Eagles of Montana, some 1450 
pairs, destroyed annually 391,500 Sharp-tailed Grouse (Pediecetes 
phasianellus columbianus—‘‘a number that is astonishingly large, yet 
doubtless well within the truth.”’ 

It will be difficult, then, for us to make out a brief in defense of this 
royal brigand. Certainly, we cannot do so upon purely economic grounds. 
But there is robber blood enough in all of us to make us cry, “Brother!” 
when we hear the Eagle scream. It is envy and wicked folly, and not 
just vengeance, which leads us to strike down this winged presence of 
the mountains, this watcher of the deserts, and fearless companion of the 
sun. It is good to have something with red blood among us—or over us. 
And if it takes expensive food to sustain such quality, let him have it. 
What are grouse and ducks and rabbits, fawns, even, before the dignity 
of this majestic symbol! I’ll take Eagles myself! 

California is the ancient citadel and heart’s home of the Golden Eagle. 
Although this storied bird occupies, or has occupied, the major portion of 


1The North American Eagles and Their Economic Relation, by Harry C. Oberholser, Biol. Surv. Bulletin, 
No. 7, 1906, p. 28. 


1705 


The Golden Eagle <— 


Taken in California GOLDEN EAGLETS Photo by Finley and Bohlman 


Be PRESS 
Photo by F. H. Holmes 
NEST OF GOLDEN EAGLE IN DIGGER PINE 


the northern 
hemisphere, it is 
probable that the 
Eagle was a lit- 
tle more abun- 
dant a generation 
ago In west cen- 
tral and southern 
~—= California than it 
was anywhere 
else onearth. Its threatened 
disappearance within this 
generation has been brought 
about by two factors: First, 
the insensate use of fire- 
arms; and second, the per- 
secutions of odlogists. We 
should enter a fiery brief 
against the latter (in spite 
of our own profession), were 
it not for the fact that an 
honest effort was made for 
several years to curb the 
egg-traffic. All the satisfac- 
tion the law-abiding odlogist 
got for abstaining from his 
favorite plunder was in see- 
ing his erstwhile benevolent 
hen eagles shot down ruth- 
lessly by sportsmen, idlers, 
and alleged indignant farm- 
ers. What was the use? 
Even the Fish and Game 
Commission gave over its 
futile but well meant efforts 
to protect this vanishing 
bird, and the season on 
Eagles is fatally open. 

In California, Golden 
Eagles nest chiefly at mod- 
erate altitudes down almost 
to sea-level. The particular 


The Golden Eagle 


site may be a hillside, easily approached, or 
an inaccessible niche in a cliff, or a tree of 
almost any sort. In the coast ranges, cliffs, 
white oaks, and digger pines are about 
equally represented. A cartload of sticks 
forms the foundation in any case, and the 
top is a platform rather than a nest, for 
the nesting hollow proper may be only 
a sharp depression in the center of 
the structure. This portion, at 
least, will be lined with shredded 
bark, grass, or any trashy, soft 
substance. The ample  propor- 
tions of the top, four or five feet 
across, are necessitated by its use 
as a landing stage, as well as a 
dissecting room, dining room, 
nursery, and gymnasium,—not to 
mention its uses as a look-out 
station, or as a landmark. 

One or two eggs constitute 
a set, rarely three, and very ex- 
ceptionally four. The shells 
of the eggs, viewed from the 
inside, have the greenish 
blue cast which marks 
the Eagles as belonging 
to the Hawk division, 
instead of the Falcon ME om 
division, of the order of PLB ce CLASES LOD ee Ss “a << spe? 
Falcones. On the out- 
side, these shells exhibit 
a marked individuality, Taken in California Photo by H. T. Bohlman and W. L. Finley 
and vary from pure white A PRINCE OF THE ROYAL BLOOD 
through bold spots and THE BIRD IS STILL IN THE NEST—ONE OF THE EAGLETS PREVIOUSLY SHOWN 
blotches of pale brown to a complete clouding or investiture of fawn-color. 
They vary greatly in size, also, ‘‘pullets’ ’’ eggs being scarcely more than 
half the bulk of the largest examples from mature birds. C.S. Sharp has 
figured an egg from Escondido which measured in inches 3.47 x 2.62, and 
which contained 4.10 cubic inches (.067 liters), as compared with 2.50 
cu. in. of an average egg, and 2.07 cu. in. of a small egg, by no means a 
“runt,” in the M. C. O. collection. 


1707 


The Golden Eagle 


Incubation lasts up- 
wards of thirty days, and 
the young when hatched 
appear to be all eyes (the 
elaboration of the ‘‘eagle 
eye’ is a most important 
task in nature’s prepara- 
tion for this infant king), 
and are so weak that they 
cannot hold their heads 
up. They are covered at 
first with a white or pale 
yellowish white down, con- 
spicuous marks to the eye 
of an air scout; but nature 
has no provision against 
human attack, and the 
Eagle fears nought else. 
In case of invasion, the 
king of birds can only 
lurk anxiously in the offing 
and give vent to his anxie- 
ties by a peculiar screak- 
ing, known throughout 
literature as a ‘“‘scream,” 
cheop’ cheop', tsyewk' tsy- 
ewk’—slowly. This is a 
rather pathetic and quite 
inadequate sound, if intim- 
i Sa i S54 idation be intended. In- 
Taken in Riverside County Photo by Wright M. Pierce deed, on occasion, it sounds 

A ROMANTIC NICHE : See 
more like the meditations 
of a young “‘broiler’’ that it does like a master cry. 

The young Eaglets require at least three months for their develop- 
ment, and when they do launch out into the world, they are likely to be a 
little wobbly for several days. Professor Loye Holmes Miller vouches! 
for the following account given him by Miss F. E. Schuman, a student 
in one of his biology classes: ‘‘Last summer while my father and I were 
extracting honey at the apiary about a mile southeast of Thacher School, 
Ojai, California, we noticed a golden eagle teaching its young one to fly. 
It was about ten o’clock. The mother started from the nest in the crags 


1 Condor, Vol. XX., p. 212. 


1708 


The Golden Eagle 


and, roughly handling the young one, she allowed him to drop, I should 
say, about ninety feet, then she would swoop down under him, wings 
spread, and he would alight on her back. She would soar to the top of the 
range with him and repeat the process. One time she waited perhaps 
fifteen minutes between flights. I should say the farthest she let him fall 
was 150 feet. My father and I watched this, spellbound, for over an hour.”’ 

The case of the Golden Eagle is all the more pathetic because of the 
bird’s attachment to its chosen haunts. Instead of running away from 
persecution, it can only stand its ground, within a range of half a dozen 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
A HILLSIDE NEST 


miles or so, until it is shot down. For this reason, also, it is possible to 
obtain an unusually accurate acquaintance with a given pair of birds, and 
to follow their fortunes through many seasons. It is known, therefore, 
that when a bird is robbed of her eggs she does not usually attempt to nest 
again the same season. Birds that have been persecuted change nesting 
sites from year to year within their range, but they are apt to come back 


1709 


The Golden Eagle 


to the same nest upon alternate or else third years. If very much harassed, 
the poor birds will give over nesting altogether, rather than desert the 
scenes familiar from their infancy. 

And what with guns, automobiles, and odlogists whose specialty is 
“Raptores,’’ the Golden Eagles are a vanishing race. Since my own com- 
ing to California in the fall of 1910, I have witnessed a marked decrease 
in their numbers, a reduction, I should say, of three-fourths in the twelve 
years. In the early spring of 1911 I visited, by invitation, the country 
back of San Diego, long famous for Eagle nesting. We took a set from the 
nest figured on p. 1704 on the 23rd of February. A summary page from my 
field notebook under date of Feb. 25, 1911, will explain what we found: 

“We spent the day exploring the mountain sides beyond Lakeside 
and the valley of the San Diego. We revisited several old Eagle nesting 
sites, four to be exact, but found no occupied nests. One colony contained 
four nests, believed to be the product of one pair of birds, but no eggs or 
signs of Eagles. Two of the nests were in good repair, and one of them had 
evidently been used last year. Either these birds have retired under in- 
cessant persecution or have been killed outright. One old Eagle’s nest, 
midway of a cliff 80 feet high, had been for some years occupied by a pair 
of Peregrine Falcons, but even these birds were no longer in evidence. 
Previous to our work our host had visited two of his most promising 
prospects. One had been robbed by an amateur odlogist, and the other 
nest, although bearing evidences of recent repair, bore only stones which 
some idler had flung upon it. Thus, in three days of strenuous work, 
assisted by automobile, three covetous odlogists (ourselves) had visited 
eight known nesting sites of the Golden Eagle, had inspected 17 nests new 
or old, and had taken only one set of Eagle eggs. Query: How long will 
the Golden Eagle last at the present rate of decrease?”’ 


¥ 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
A BIRD OF THE YEAR A-WING 


I7I0 NOTE LIGHT PATCHES UNDER WING; AND BASAL PORTION OF TAIL WHITE 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


Elsewhere the sport (?) lasted a little longer. A notorious collector 
from the Bay Cities, ranging south by automobile as far as Ventura 
County, is said to have taken fifty-two eggs of the Golden Eagle in a 
single season, that of 1913, I believe. This was at a time when other 
collectors were forbidden by law to molest Eagles’ eggs. Another col- 
lector, in the San Benito country, acquired a “‘personally taken”’ collec- 
tion of some 150 sets, but as his work was carried on over a space of 
twenty-five years and was accompanied by painstaking observation and 
recording of notes, we have no word of censure—congratulation rather, 
that so important a piece of work should have been well done at a time 
when it could be done. And lest the writer be accused of pharisaism in 
this regard, he records the fact here, December, 1922, that he has taken 
exactly one set of Golden Eagles’ eggs in California. It is enough. 


No. 338 


Southern Bald Eagle 


A. O. U. No. 352. Haliwétus leucocephalus leucocephalus (Linnzus). 


Synonyms.—Birp OF WASHINGTON (young). GRAY EAGLE (second year 
young). BLAckK EAGLE (first year young). WHITE-HEADED SEA EAGLE. 


Description.—Adult: Head and neck all around, and tail including coverts, 
pure white; remaining plumage grayish brown to brownish black; with some paler 
edging of feathers; bill and feet yellow; claws black. Jmmature, first year: blackish 
with some outcropping white of cottony-based feathers; bill black; feet yellow. Second 
year: grayish brown or dark brown, mottled somewhat irregularly on wings and tail 
(centrally) with gray and white; acquiring adult characteristics by end of third year. 
Second year birds are somewhat larger than adults, ‘‘overgrown puppies,’ and were 
formerly described as Washington Eagles. Science outgrew this ignorance as the 
nation outgrew its youth. Nestling: Covered with grayish dusky down; a sprinkling 
of longer white feathers, noticeably on sides of neck; black body feathers first appearing 
on scapulars, noteum and crown. Adult male: length 762-914.4 (30.00-36.00); extent 
of wings seven feet; wing 533.4-660.4 (21.00-26.00); tail 292.1-381 (11.50-15.00); 
culmen about 50.8 (2.00); tarsus about 76.2 (3.00); middle toe and hind claw 69.9 
(2.75). Adult female: length 863.6-1066.8 (34.00-42.00); extent seven to eight feet; 
wing 609.6-711.2 (24.00-28.00); tail 330.2-406.4 (13.00-16.00); culmen about 55.9 
(2.20); tarsus about 88.9 (3.50); hind claw up to 50.8 (2.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Largest; white head and tail of adult; half-naked tarsus 
distinctive in any plumage. 

Nesting.— Nest: A bulky platform of sticks high in trees, or variously, on 
cliffs or headlands, near considerable bodies of water. Eggs: 2 or, rarely, 3; dull 
white or pale bluish white, with fine granular surface, unmarked but often nest-stained. 
Av. size 71.6 x 53.8 (2.82 x 2.127); index 75.3. Extremes 67.56-75.2 by 51.05-56.6 
(2.66-2.96 by 2.01-2.23). Season: March Ist at sea level, April on interior lakes; 
one brood. 


Gp IEH 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


Range of Halieétus leucocephalus—North America, chiefly in the vicinity of 
streams and considerable bodies of water from near the limit of trees south to Florida 
and Mexico. 

Range of H. 1. leucocephalus.—United States south to southern Lower California 
and northern Mexico; breeding throughout its range. Rare or local in arid interior 
and on coast of California. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common resident on the Santa Barbara 
Islands, and frequent visitor to the adjacent mainland coast. Of occasional occurrence 
in the northern interior. Has bred at Eagle Lake, at Sacramento, in Santa Clara 
County, and at Elsinore Lake (Riverside County). 

Authorities.—Gambel ( Haliaetus leucocephalus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
iii., 1846, p. 45 (Santa Catalina, etc.); Oberholser, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., 
no. 27, 1906, p. 6 (economic; habits, distr., food, ete.); Miller, Univ. Calif. Publ. Geol., 
vol. vi., 1911, p. 310 (fossil); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 55. 


THE PASSING of the Bald Eagle is doubtless ordained by the same 
factors—bravado, recklessness and revenge—which have decreed the 
destruction of his Golden kinsman. The human animal simply cannot 
abide the presence of any bird larger than a pewee; and if the natural 
instinct to burn up gunpowder lags, it is possible to unearth or invent a 
hundred tales of evil-doing on the bird’s part, each quite sufficient to 
bolster up murderous purpose. In spite, therefore, of decades of educa- 
tion, in spite of beautiful statutes, the tradition still persists that every 
Eagle ought to be shot at sight. And slaughtered it probably will be, 
until the seashore is destitute as the desert, and the isles of romance as 
devoid of avian interest as the pages of a commercial ledger. 

We will grant without debate that the Bald Eagle is a bad actor. He 
eats fish—a most reprehensible practice—and he occasionally captures 
game birds, which we would prefer to do to death by our own peculiar 
artistry. Worse than that, he sometimes—not often, mind you—attacks 
lambs, and has been known to kill fawns. He has assisted sick sheep in 
their effort to shuffle off the mortal coil; and, worst of all, he has been 
known to carry off babies—say in two or three really authenticated 
instances in our entire national history. We will not even plead that dead 
and dying fish have been consumed by thousands of tons to the great 
benefit of the national health; that birds and mammals of neutral impor- 
tance are captured as often as those of economic benefit, or that distin- 
guished services have been performed by the Eagles in freeing the land 
from weasels, marmots, squirrels, and other injurious species of mammals. 
It isidle. If the venerable dignity of the white-headed Eagle posted on a 
sea-cliff excites only the itching of trigger fingers; if the prowess displayed 
by the Eagle in pursuing and capturing swiftest-winged birds excites only 
a malignant envy; if, indeed, the murderer of an Eagle is to be proclaimed 
a hero, and allowed to bask in the sunshine of local approval; the case is 


1712 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


hopeless. We who enjoy nature’s variety, we who appreciate nature’s 
splendors, we who love the thrills of nature’s own choosing, we who do 
obeisance to the Creative Infinite expressed in Snowy Egrets and Birds 
of Paradise and Swans and Eagles and Condors, we are a pitiful minority. 
Do not mind us. Kill, rob, devastate, poison, and utterly exterminate 
all who lift their heads above the common ruck. We shall still have 
left—Linnets. 

Bald Eagles formerly and effectually occupied the entire continent 
of North America north of Mexico and south of middle Hudson Bay. 
They were common on the Atlantic seaboard and abundant on the coasts 
of Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. They have been reduced 
in two centuries to perhaps a hundredth of their former numbers, and in 
considerable sections of the interior are no longer seen at all. Those which 
breed in the high North must fall back in winter before a failing food 
supply; and the appearance, almost certainly fortuitous, of several eagles 


Taken on Santa Cruz Island Photo by the Author 
AN UNOCCUPIED NEST 
THIS STRUCTURE MEASURES II FEET IN DEPTH ON ITS SEA FRONT. IT HAS PROBABLY BEEN OCCUPIED 
INTERMITTENTLY FOR HALF A CENTURY 


HT/US 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


at once on a winter’s day is no sign that the species is holding its own. 

The Bald Eagle is essentially a fish-loving bird, and so is normally 
distributed along the seashore and about the larger lakes and streams. It 
was formerly found throughout the interior of this State wherever condi- 
tions were suitable, especially in the northern portion (e. g. Eagle Lake) 
and along the Sacramento-San Joaquin river systems. It is still found, 
not uncommonly, in the northwestern counties, and more sparingly at 
scattered points along the western sea coast. Only upon the Santa Bar- 
bara Islands, however, may the birds be rated common, that is, of general 
occurrence; and even here their numbers have been greatly reduced by 
persecution, gunfire, and destruction of their nests. The introduction 
of sheep upon these islands has placed overwhelming temptation in the 
Eagle’s path, and has earned her the enmity of a very determined set of 
persecutors. Unless the Bald Eagle is actually protected, not alone from 
lawless marauders in motor boats, but from the vengeance of the sheep- 
men, whether owners or renters, its days are numbered. 

We must speak, then, chiefly of the Eagles of the Santa Barbara 
Islands. Howell tells us in a recent review! that Eagles are no longer 
found upon Los Coronados, but that they are still numerous on San 
Clemente. They are ‘abundant’? on San Nicolas, and common at 
Catalina, although less numerous than formerly; for J. G. Cooper once 
saw thirty birds there, chiefly immatures, at one time. A single pair 
holds Santa Barbara Island, and the birds are known to occur on San 
Miguel. They are presumed to occur, also, on Santa Rosa, but they are 
best known at this time from Anacapa and Santa Cruz. The nests found 
on Anacapa possess a special interest, because the sticks of which they 
are composed have to be carried over by the birds from Santa Cruz, whose 
nearest point is five miles away. 

Regarding the food habits of the island birds it is scarcely safe to 
generalize. Their main dependence must formerly have been fish, and 
these, no doubt, were chiefly secured by snatching from the surface of the 
water. Ospreys do not abound in this section, and it is doubtful if the 
well-known parasitism practiced by the Bald Eagle upon the Osprey has 
been in vogue here. Dr. Cooper says of a northern bird, “I never 
saw it dive for a fish « * * but have seen it settle for a moment on the 
water to secure a dead fish, closing its wings.’ Cooper also notes the 
capture of a flying fish in midair, by an island eagle—something of a feat! 
Others have seen the Eagle plunge into the sea as boldly as an Osprey, 
even to the point of complete submergence. The Eagle occasionally does 
patrol duty on the mainland shore, after the fashion of hawk or vulture, 
but he spends more time as a sentinel in some commanding position 


1 Pac. Coast Avifauna, No. 12, A. B. Howell (1917), p. 55. 


714 


Mets dap is wo sign that the species is holding i its own. 
: Coat is essentially a fxh-losiag bird, and so is normally 
iy Sie wader oid abot the logon lakes and streams.” | Tt | 
y hawd Cipdaghour the gererice of This State wherever conde” 
Maree, wipe aati int the northerk bhibae fe.g. Eagle Lake), 
vramegre tia Joaquin spear ayetotes, Th is still found, 

Lie f “y meee sparingly at 
diniy apow the Santa Bar- 
CORON, that is, of general 
wea greatiy reduced by 
The tatroduction. 
ay otaptetion in ‘the 
Millia set of 


Hf spike 


sti dengnance ee the Ehecte 
wa ape rimbered. " 
Gr the Eagles of the Santa Barbara. 
shy te a recent review! that Eagles are no longer 7) 
< eotgslteg, Buk that they are still numerous on San 
‘oy gy 'e&dedant’ on San Nicolas, and common at 
4 less wuhodyy than formerly; for J. G. Cooper once 
eds there, CMS Somatures, at one time. A single pair” 
Mss that Barbara fslan§, 8 2nd the birds are known to occur on San ~ 
Hitcwst. “Vhey are presuirgy & & €ccur, also, on Santa Rosa, but they are. 
heat known at this time frog Angcapa and Santa Cruz. The nests found 
om Anacapa possess a spe@§il $n&erest, because the sticks of which they 
are epmposed have to be cargies! er by the birds from Santa Cruz, whose, 
nearest point is five miles gas, - 

Regarding the food pai ae Mand birds it is scarcely safe- to- 
eenerehe ze. Phetr mata de eters pie fesieeriy have been ‘fish, and i 
these, no doubt, were chints hy sueinnisy fram the. surface of the Bic: 
water. Ospreys do nov al@und in th wi @ is doubttullif the ~ 
Bliccd iy © aie “exe the Osprey has 

“sesgiaes wae: hurd, “T never 4 
fot a moment on the 
“oeyer also notes’ the 
gis osumething ofa feat! 
b Fags ae teres. Bee po 4% boldly as an Osprey, | 

: : “ne Pagte occasionally does 
Peck of hawk or vulture, 
sine commanding Ponce 


esa 


eo 


Werrkikinen Darna 


tse458} 


NS 


ohyaiciy 308. ee 


ay ORE: iy am BBA SAI 


Bae fey ES 
isla fig 
bak Mex PA 2 ae ae, 


Wise a ee Tae 


eae 


eee Wek hn See 
She eee ce 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


on cliff or tree. The eagle eye is proverbial, little 
happening along the beach for a mile either way 
of which the bird does not take account. 

There can be little doubt, either, that His 
Majesty helps himself freely to sea-birds. In 
seeing an Eagle soaring aloft in leisurely cir- 
cles, an observer might not suspect the light- 
ning speed of which it is capable. The bird’s 
very size serves to disguise its speed, as in 
the case of an ocean liner. Probably there 
is no sea-fowl which can escape the Halize- 
tine desire, save by diving, and not always 
then, for the Eagle has perfected a ruthless 
follow-up system, and strikes as often as 
the diver appears at the surface for 
breath, until his end is gained. 

The gulls stand in mortal 
awe of the Bald Eagle, and I have 
heard a breeding colony of them 
utter a multitudinous wail of 
apprehension, which made the 
heart of the human listener stand 
still. Protest is idle, however. 
As well might the apples on the 
bough protest the hand of the 
picker. 

Not impossibly the gentle 

Eagle is forsaking this ancient 
sport for the more profitable task 
of sheep-raising. At least in 
lambing time his services as Taken on Santa Cruz Island Photo by the Author 
accoucheur are said to be in con- A CONSIDERABLE SPACE Panes erage re REACTION OF FRIGHT 
stant requisition. I don’t know. 
I never witnessed anything overt myself; but the presence of two carcasses 
of lambs a long while dead in the substructure of an eagle’s nest on Santa 
Cruz Island, looked, to say the least, ‘‘mighty suspicious.’ On the other 
hand, Mr. Howland, for fifteen years a resident on San Clemente, told 
Mr. Howell that he had never seen an Eagle carrying a lamb but once, 
and that one had died a natural death; and he felt quite sure that the 
birds did not molest his sheep at all. 

Nidification begins early, but not nearly so early as in Florida and 
along the Gulf Coast, where eggs are said to be laid in December, or even 


1715 


The Southern Bald Eagle 


early November. The average date for fresh eggs on the Santa Barbara 
Islands is March Ist. 

The nest, which is an immense pile of sticks, lined with fine twigs 
and grass, and other soft substances, is usually placed on some lesser 
promontory or a sharp, inaccessible ridge near the ocean. The historic 
pile figured on page 1713 measured twelve feet by six on top, the larger 
diameter being along the crest of the ridge; and contained no less than two 
wagonloads of accumulated materials. Another, from which the M. C. O. 
took two heavily incubated eggs on the 20th of March, 1919, was built up 
on a slanting ridge, so that the lower or seaward face was fourteen feet in 
depth, although the top of the nest was only four feet by six. 

Occasionally nests are built in pine trees, and this is the almost 
invariable custom in the interior. Not only are the trees in which they 
are built usually hard to climb, but it is often difficult, or well nigh impos- 
sible, to pass the bulging sides of the nest so as to obtain access to the 
eggs themselves. 

Both sexes share the duty of incubation, which lasts something over 
a month, and the two birds are occasionally to be seen together at the 
nest, the one standing, and the other squatting 
upon the eggs. The eggs are two, rarely three, 
pure white or bluish white, and are 
laid at intervals of two or 
threedays. There 
is often quite a 
discrepancy 


A 


Taken on San Clemente Island Photo by D. R. Dickey 


UPHOLSTERED AND TRIMMED 
7710 


The California Condor 


in the size of the eggs, the larger presumably being laid first. If the eggs 
are destroyed, the birds will not nest again until the following year. The 
young, when hatched, remain in the nest three or four months before they 
are able to fly, and even then sometimes require considerable urging on 
the part of their ambitious parents. 

It is evident that those who live in the vicinity of an Eagle’s nest must 
sometimes become very much attached to these stately birds, and view 
their comings and goings with unfailing interest. In a few instances the 
protection of the local eagles is a matter of pride, and any one who 
attempted to molest one of them would get into serious trouble with its 
human neighbors. This is quite as it should be. The people of this State 
could far better afford to reimburse the owners of poultry and sheep for 
some trifling losses inflicted upon them, than they could to be deprived 
of the majestic presence of these symbolic birds. 

Nothing, outside of human woes, could be sadder than the sight of an 
Eagle in a cage. Captivity is irksome at best, and the contemplation of 
it is seldom edifying. Yet the sight of a monkey is not so bad. Ropes and 
sticks and wire nettings are sources of infinite amusement to Jocko, as to 
his spectators. Bruin enjoys his fare of peanuts and bonbons, and might 
not wish to exchange his snug pit of concrete for the vicissitudes of moun- 
tain life. Caged song-birds, even, have always artistic relief for their 
wounded spirit. But for the captive Eagle there is no consolation what- 
ever. Befouled, disheveled, sick at heart, and aching with imprisoned 
forces, he can only scowl in sullen disdain at his persecutors, or mope in 
abject misery before them. The sight of such a captive degrades the 
onlooker, as it outrages every sentiment of justice and fitness. We have 
no right to imprison creatures whose lives we cannot make reasonably 


happy. 


No. 339 


California Condor 


A. O. U. No. 324. Gymnogyps californianus (Shaw). 

Synonym.—CaALIFORNIA VULTURE. 

Description.—Adult: General color dull black, or sooty brownish black, the 
feathers of back and wings browning on edges and tips, the ruff of lance-linear feathers 
glossy, the central portions of these and similar feathers distributed over the throat 
and breast dull gray; the inner half of the greater wing-coverts silvery gray on con- 
cealed portions, with broad white tips; the inner secondaries similarly but irregularly 
gray and with white on concealed portion of outer web; the axillars and central portion 
of under wing-coverts pure white, forming a conspicuous patch some two feet in length; 


V7 17, 


The California Condor 


head and neck naked, except on forehead and face, narrowly, where close-set black 
feathers persistent; the skin of head and neck orange or orange-red in life; bill chiefly 
orange-colored, crossed at the eyes with a black band; feet and legs rosy flesh-colored. 
Young birds up to the fourth year lack the white markings and have more decided 
brown edgings to the feathers; neck of young birds is more or less covered with sooty 
down, and the bill and naked skin of head are dusky. Length of adult 1219.2-1371.6 
(4 to 4% feet); extent 2743-2794 (9-11 feet); weight 20-25 pounds; wing 762-914.4 
(30.00-36.00); tail 381-457.2 (15.00-18.00):; bill from nostril including unfeathered 
portion of cere 69.9 (2.75); the culmen proper 38.1 (1.50); tarsus I15.6-140.9 (4.50-5.50). 

Recognition Marks.—Giant size; larger than Turkey Vulture or Eagle, but 
white under wing-coverts the best field mark. 

Nesting.—Single egg, deposited on ledge or in cranny of inaccessible cliff, for- 
merly also in hollow tree or log; white with a bluish or greenish, rarely a creamy tinge, 
unmarked; elongate ovate. Av. size 114.3 x 63.5 (4.50 x 2.50). Season: January— 
March; one chick. 

General Range.—The south central coast ranges of California and the mountains 
of northern Lower California. Formerly much more abundant and ranging north at 
least to the Columbia River and casually east of the Sierras (Owens Valley) and Ari- 
zona. 

Distribution in California.—Represented in dwindling numbers, and now 
confined to south central coast ranges from southern San Benito and Monterey counties 
south to northern Los Angeles County. Occurrences along the Sierran foothills are 
probably to be interpreted as wanderings of birds resident in the inner coastal ranges. 
Unquestionably less than 100 birds, probably not more than 40, still preserved in Cali- 
fornia. 

Authorities.—Shaw (Vultur californianus), Nat. Misc.. ix., 1797, pl. 301 (orig. 
desc.; ‘‘Coast of Calif.’’); Gambel, Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, i., 1847, p. 25 
(Calif.; habits, food); Ridgway, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, vol. v., 1880, pp. 79, 82 (crit.; 
nomencl.; meas., comparison with S. Am. Condor); Miller, Univ. Calif. Publ. Geol., 
vol. vi., 1910, p. 6 (fossil); Finley, Condor, vol. viii., 1906, p. 135, figs. (desc.and photos 
of nest, egg, young, etc.; habits); zbzd., vol. x., 1908, p. 5 (photos; meas., weights, etc.) ; 
ibid., vol. x., p. 59 (photos; habits, etc.). 


IF I WERE to propound the question, Where is the heart of Califor- 
nia? there would be a dozen instant and clamorous voices, each with a 
valid claim to urge. The heart of California? It is the Golden Gate, 
most romantic of portals, through which the Argonauts entered the land 
of dreams, thronged now with the roaring traffic of Occident and Ind. 
It is San Francisco, the passionate, the beloved, the furnace-tried, the 
unconquerable, now conquering herself and bearing rule with the imper- 
iousness of self-possession. It is the Valley of the Sacramento, where the 
Capital City sits among her sun-burned wheat-fields, or surveys in dismay 
the lessening population of her winter wild geese. It is Placerville, or 
Angels’ Camp, where the gold-seekers tore at the face of Mother Earth 
and prayed for fortune, or fought and drank and swore and forgot, or 
found reality, according to their kind. It is Los Angeles, that uncounted 


1718 


The California Condor 


SS 


/ 


Taken in San Luts Obispo County Photo by the Author 
THE CONDOR'S FIEF 


congeries of human ants and bees and butterflies poured out eternal upon 
the sunlit plain,—Los Angeles, the storied, the vaunting, the bound- 
lessly achieving, the insatiable, at once the asylum, the laboratory, the 
drawing-room, and the ultimate destiny of the human race. It is Berke- 
ley and Stanford, twin eminences of learning, where the endless golden 
tide of youth seeks oblation until the marvel is that the altars of wisdom 
are not long since sated. It is the Desert, weird, empty, forlorn—or 
God-filled—according to your mood. Surely it is the desert where, if 
but a horned toad scuttles, you are startled; where, at the least, your own 
heart’s beating fills you with a nameless terror, or else an exalted joy— 
according to your kind. It is the Sierra Nevada, heart of the world, 
where lightnings vie with cold snows to crown the dauntless monarchs 
of space and time. Here is sanctuary and surcease of sorrow, and a world 
brought near to its Maker. It is Monterey, beloved of the Mission 
Fathers, the clearing house of history, beloved of artists, too, the authentic 
meeting place of earth and sea and sky. It isSanta Barbara, the sheltered, 
the favored, the hospitable, flawless gem of Nature’s workshop, arabesqued 


I7I9 


The California Condor 


and polished by all that human ingenuity may contrive,—Santa 
Barbara, the first and the last, where stout-hearted Cabrillo 
planted the earliest of European footsteps upon Californian shores, 
and where—surely, where the last of human footsteps will linger, 
dallying, when the final summons calls the race to its eternal home. 

The heart of California is here. Aye, and in a dozen places 
more; for the heart of California is very large, and it is indivisible. 
But for me the heart of California lies in the Condor country. 
And for me the heart of mystery, of wonder, and of desire lies 
with the California Condor, that majestic and almost legendary 
figure, which still haunts the fastnesses of our lessening 
wilderness. 

So many of our California writers upon 
birds, contributors to “‘The Condor’’ 
magazine, and the like, have been at 

pains to conduct their readers 

through enchanted mazes of ap- 
proach, that for once I shall try to 
follow their example. It is nat- 
ural that bankers off on vaca- 
tions, and clerks on a hard-earned 
holiday, should invest every cir- 
cumstance of their outing with 
the same glamor of interest which 
attaches to the winning of some 
odlogical trophy, or capture of a rara 
avis which really marked the jour- 
ney’send. Because of this—shall we 
\ say beatific fallacy?—we have reams 
“i of scenic descriptions and half-reams 
Siu of camp-fire conversations to 
Taken in Los Angeles County Photo by H. T. Bohlman and W. L. Finley quires of bird descriptions and 
CSTE OR NTA CONDORS half-sheets of ornithological char- 
acter study. It is ever the way of 
the human race to be most concerned with itself and its own reactions. 

We acquiesce. 
It was with a happy heart, then, that the writer accepted, early in 
April, 1911, an invitation to visit a Condor’s eyrie hidden in the heart of 
eastern San Luis Obispo County. My guides were interested to prove 
that Condors, or at least a Condor, laid a white or creamy white egg, 
instead of the stereotyped pale bluish green of scientific repute. Our 
course lay over the half-timbered foothills which compose one of the inner 


7720 


The California Condor 


ranges of the coastal system, and our means of conveyance was a two- 
wheeled cart plus a saddle horse, for there were three in the party. The 
cattle country was at its lushest stage of pasturage. Grass, so fresh 
and luxuriant that one almost envied the stolid steers, gave way in spots 
and acre-wide streaks to flowers of gorgeous hue. There were blue-eyes 
and brodeas (a little late) and shooting stars (a little early), but most of 
all there were blue lupines in billows, escholtzias that set the earth aflame, 
and owl’s clover that quenched it again with purple torrents,—around 
every turn in the hills a conspiracy of elemental pyrotechnics! As the 
mountains strengthened, the pasture gave way to chaparral, at first 
chamise, the sturdy homespun of California, then manzanita and dotting 
live oaks, and ceanothus an endless host. Soon digger pines, quaintest 
of evergreens, waved their ghostly arms or whispered to top-heavy 
neighbors. And the view! Looking backward to the north as far as 
eye could reach was an endless panorama of rolling hills, hills varied by 
yellow escarpments, blue timber in belts, dark green scumble of chap- 
arral, and here and there great blocks or ribbons of clearest grass green. 
We crossed ranches, or consolidated holdings, boasting 30,000 acres each, 
40,000, and then 60,000. We had escaped from civilization. 

After a night and a half day spent with an old settler in the enjoy- 
ment of old-fashioned hospitality, in form at least forty years behind the 
times, and in spirit a half millenium ahead of common practice, we set 
out on foot with a single pack-horse and threaded for half a day the 
devious trails which penetrate a buckthorn wilderness, and which work 
gradually toward the heart of the hills where the Condor has his lair. 

A night on the ground and a dip in a brawling stream makes us fit 
for Condor-gazing an hour before daybreak; but the morning is foggy 
and we cannot see well. Breakfast is not only al fresco but al freezo, 
because we are not advertising our presence by tell-tale fires. Turkey 
Vultures abound, and they circle about an elevated chimney of rock 
which projects above the climbing sea of chaparral. They weary the 
attention, strained upon larger quarry, and we do not escape from false 
alarms until we have battled for an hour with the thorny jungle, and have 
gained the vantage point of a huge boulder, a fallen fragment of moun- 
tain which overtops the chaparral. By and by Kelly descries a Condor 
some 2000 feet above, distinguishable rather by sturdiness of motion than 
by size from the nearer ‘Buzzards.’ The great bird is soaring over the 
heights of his ancestral castle, but he soon settles in the top of a pine 
tree where we can study him with binoculars and telescope. We have 
a pretty good idea that his optical apparatus is better than ours at that, 
for he is ill at ease and presently casts off again. Soon he is joined by 
another bird, and as they wheel and pitch in the clearing atmosphere, 


727 


The California Condor 


we note unmistakably the 
great white patches under the 
wings and the golden head of 
each. The unfulfilled desire 
of decades has been met. We 
have seen the fabled bird and 
pronounced him genuine. But 
there is business afoot and 
scant time for reflection. The 
birds drift over toward us, un- 
doubtedly upon a tour of in- 
spection. And there isa pretty 
passage at arms between them, 
a discussion of our demerits, 
perhaps, in animated sign lan- 
guage. They retire to a pin- 
nacle perch and cogitate; but 
not for long. The morning 
advances, and duty rides the 
Taken in San Luis Obispo County Gymnogypsian conscience. A 
Eahotoy bythe AasLlior saucy Prairie Falcon pursues 
“AN APPARITION OF THE each ancient bird in turn, but 
ear rte aac cade the Condor always avoids the 
stroke by a downward swerve 
which seems absolutely beyond the Falcon’s power to 
judge or speed to follow. The Falcon’s stroke is light- 
ning itself, and I have seen one punish a Golden Eagle 
unmercifully, but there are three birds that he cannot touch, a Raven, a 
Turkey Vulture, and a Condor. 
As we watch the evolutions of this pair, they are suddenly joined 
by another bird, an all-black fellow, as large, to all appearance, as a 
Condor,—a youngster, perhaps, only a decade or so of age. These three 
gyrate together amicably enough at first, but presently the stranger (?) 
is hustled off the stage. The father recalls that an elder son has no proper 
place in contemporary family life. Later, one of the original pair is lost 
to sight behind an angle in the cliff whose recesses we cannot discern, 
although we see the wall beyond. We hold our breath. But no; he, 
or she, soon emerges, and there is more gyration, a little tedious now. 
O La! La! when will they get down to business? They disappear over the 
mountain instead. 
But later, one returns—makes straight for the recess already noted 


1722 


The California Condor 


in the cliff, and is lost to view. One minute, two, three, elapses. It has 
happened! She’s on, boys! 

Only two thousand feet above us; but if I were to stop to rehearse 
to you the arduous details of that climb, and of our sufferings, camera- 
laden, poked, prodded, buffeted, and gouged, as we made our way upward 
through an all but impenetrable thicket of buckthorn, you would chuck 
this volume into the fire-place and bolt for the door. It is yours to gather 
only the sweets. The actual foot of that rock-wall was sweet. We 
could have kissed it or bathed it with our tears. The half-cylinder- 
shaped wall was a promising place, stately and frowning not only, but 
full of rifts and caves, soft places in the sandstone scored out by the 
elements, or once occupied by a softer substance now decayed or leached 
out. We peered cautiously around the side where we had seen the Condor 
disappear, but we could not see all of the wall nearest us. Kelly, there- 
fore, crossed to the opposite base of the curve and looked intently while 


Photo by the Author 
“THE HEAD OF A CONDOR THRUST ANXIOUSLY FORTH” 
I shouted. Again and again I shouted, but no bird appeared. Finally 
Kelly caught a flash of color at the mouth of an obscure hole far up the 
cliff-side. He called me over and I confirmed it—the head of a Condor 
thrust anxiously forth from the mouth of the hole, and then withdrawn—a 
hole so small that I should not have looked for a falcon in it. 


1723 


The California Condor 


We hastened back for our photographic gear, which had been left 
a hundred yards behind, and prepared to ascend to the Vulture’s nest with 
Graflex set. Fortunately, the ascent was not difficult, and a projecting 
shoulder which bore an oak tree some fifteen feet below the nest-hole 
afforded a vantage ground for photography. When all set, and geared 
up to about 1/500 (of a second), I said to Kelly, ‘‘When you are ready, you 
may fire.’’ Whereupon he let loose a torrent of catcalls. An anxious head 
instantly appeared, and I, instead of Kelly, “‘fired.”” Again, I ‘“‘got’’ her, 
head and shoulders out, but the bird was loth to come forth, and retreated 
ever and again. Finally, after a bit of a struggle, she pitched out, and 
I noted that in the act of emerging she quite filled the entrance way. 
It was an actual squeeze for her to get in and out of that nest. I blazed 
away, of course, but the range was too close for the light—and the plate. 
(Indeed, the writer will have to confess right here that on account of a 
lot of deteriorated plates, the photographic result of the Condor expedi- 
tion was a fizzle. Fortunately, the superb work done by Messrs. Finley 
and Bohlman in the Sierra Madre Mountains leaves nothing to be done 
or desired. Our bird lighted not over sixty feet away, but she sat in the 
shade where I could do nothing with her. Hark to the note of the dis- 
appointed professional. She was adorable, of course. Of that anon. 
But why should we want to do anything to birds or with them?| 

Kelly now addressed himself to an examination of the nest, which 
could be best reached by a circuitous course from above; but while he 
was busy aloft with the tackle I heard an ominous sound, something 
between a hiss and a squall, proceeding from the depths of the rock. 
“Too late!’ I shouted. It was even so; for a squab of Gymnogyps, instead 
of a white egg, occupied the cave. I examined the situation a few minutes 
later. The aperture of the nesting cave was midway of the face of a 
sloping stretch of sandstone, not too steep, perhaps, for inspection with- 
out the aid of a rope, but too steep for comfortable work. The entrance 
was just twelve inches high in the clear and nineteen inches wide; but the 
struggles of the emerging birds had broken out fragments of the thin 
wall on each side, so that three inches of this total width was plainly 
“artificial.” This opening gave access to a lens-shaped cavity some six 
feet in horizontal depth by ten in length and two or two and a half feet 
high in the clear. The floor was of fine dry sand several inches in depth, 
and upon this at the remotest distance a baby Condor hissed and roared. 
The infant was perhaps four times as large as the egg from which he had 
emerged, and since he held his head up well, we judged that he might 
have been ten days or perhaps two weeks old. He was clad in a downy 
jacket of sordid white, and his bill and forehead were of a yellowish 
flesh-color. The place was somewhat odoriferous, but not excessively so, 


1724 


California Condors 
These are the parents of “General,” until lately an inmate of 
the Zoological Park in New York City 
From a photograph by Messrs. Finley and Bohlman 


Taken in the San Gabriel Mountains 


The California Condor 


and I should judge that the nature of the floor, dry sand, would ensure 
an exceptionally sanitary condition. 

The fragments of the shell were examined, and these were certainly 
of a creamy white color, not pale niagara green, as is usual with this 
species. 

The mother bird (supposedly) sat quietly, but not indifferently, 
through all these proceedings. There was an air of gentle breeding and 
dignity about this bird which not even the bizarre coloration of her 
head-dress could destroy. Indeed, the head with its orange-colored beak 
and frontal plate, crossed at*the eyes with a black band, sits rather like 
a jewel in its setting of a shiny black ruff; while the feet and legs, of a 
shining flesh-color, stand out again in high relief as the bird perches. 
Although the bird fled at our closer photographic approach, she did not 
quit the neighborhood nor did she attempt to enterthenest. Instead, she 
gyrated about, or swept to and fro near the entrance in solicitous fashion. 
It is worthy of remark that the Turkey Vultures were abundant about 
these cliffs, and that the Condor paid no heed whatever to them. One 
inquisitive Turkey swept in repeatedly, passing closer to the nest than 
ever the mother had done, and I looked for trouble; but the gentle lady 
gave no appearance of resentment. At a later time, however, when we 
were preparing to quit the place, an ominous rushing sound, a war of 
wings, caused us to look up in apprehension. A Condor, presumably the 
male, was pursuing an entirely black bird, doubtless the intruder of the 
morning, and although the youngster managed to elude a stroke, he rued 
his rashness for a good half-mile. Family discipline must be maintained 
in even a gentle breed. 

The foregoing account of a Condor’s nesting is confessedly a rather 
prosaic affair. Nothing very spectacular happened. We returned sans 
egg, sams skin (thank God!) and, as the event proved, sans photographs, 
but we brought the Condor away in our hearts. The following ‘‘estimate,”’ 
derived from many sources, but chiefly from two, is hardly the impersonal 
judgment of science. It is, rather, the warm-blooded appreciation of one 
who has been taught reverence by personal contact with one of the out- 
standing characters of the bird-world. I am not ashamed to have fallen 
in love with so gentle a ghoul; and though I should not choose to dine 
with him, I am assured that if I did, my brother would not crowd me nor 
cheat me of my portion. And who are we that we should sit in judgment 
upon a brother who takes his meat a bit rarer than our own? A dead 
cow is, after all, a dead cow, is it not? And what if he does not kill his 
own meat. Do you? Or do you, like him, meekly accept from the gods 
of circumstance the meats which have been provided? ‘‘Government 
certified!’ Fiddlesticks! The Condor’s meat is certified by the sun. 


The California Condor 


Supplemental to nature, my two chief sources of information and 
opinion regarding the Condor are, first, the remarkable series of articles 
written by Mr. William L. Finley for ‘‘The Condor,’’! and, second, a 
manuscript placed in my hands by Mr. Claude C. L. Brown, formerly of 
Shandon. On the roth of March, 1906, Messrs. W. L. Finley, Joseph 
Grinnell, and Walter P. Taylor 
found a Condor’s egg within twelve 
days of hatching, on a secluded ledge 
in the Sierra Madre Mountains. On 
several later occasions Mr. Finley, 
accompanied by his life-long partner 
in adventures photographic, Mr. 
Herman T. Bohlman, of Portland, 
Oregon, returned to photograph the 
young chick and to chronicle its 
development. This bird, named 
‘“‘General,’’ was finally carried off to 
Portland for further study, and 
thence eventually found its way to 
the New York Zoo, where it thrived 
for some years. It is a matter for 
the deepest congratulation that such 
a painstaking and rewarding piece of 
work could have been carried out 
under competent management. 

Our second source book is the 
manuscript already mentioned, an 
essay upon the Condor which was 
very generously placed at my dis- 
posal when, in 1911, its author, still 
a young man, quitted the scene of his former labors. Mr. Brown had 
exceptional opportunity for study, near his birthplace, as well as excep- 
tional enthusiasm for his task, and I attach great importance to much 
which he has to offer. In both these cases men who came to have an 
intimate knowledge of the Condor felt for the bird not only admiration, 
but a genuine affection, such as we might display toward a trusted dog or 
faithful horse, doubtless less than human, but assuredly more than brute. 

It is not from the mere circumstance of the bird’s rarity, then, that 
we approach the study of the Condor with a feeling of admiration akin 
to awe, for the Condor is first of all a gentleman—or must we say a gentle- 
bird? Although quite the largest of flying birds, not being exceeded in 


\“TLife History of the California Condor,’’ Four Parts: Vol. VIII., Nov. 1906; Vol. X., Jan. 1908; Vol. X., 
March, 1908; Vol. XII., Jan. 1910—all leading articles. 


1720 


Photo by W. L. Finley and H. T. Bohlman 
STILL ANXIOUS 


Taken in Los Angeles County 


The California Condor 


this respect even by the more famed and more abundant South American 
Condor (Sarcorhamphus gryphus), and powerful of beak and foot, there is 
no record of the Condor’s having offered a human being any indignity 
unless brought to bay at close quarters. Finley and Bohlman took a 
newly hatched chick from under its mother and restored it again without 
even being struck at. Although the little fellow did fight savagely in his 
earlier weeks, it was only nature’s customary device for working up 
muscle. Later, as Finley testifies, this same youngster became as gentle 
as a kitten and although he was fond of strenuous play, a tug of war with 
a rope being one of his favorite diversions, he was careful not to hurt the 
fingers of his kindly captors. He nuzzled and nibbled harmlessly at the 
outstretched hand, whereas he could strip the flesh off a beef bone and 
leave beak marks on it. 

Brown testifies that he has seen Condors, Turkey Vultures, and 
coyotes feeding simultaneously upon a carcass. The Condor was king of 
the feast, but he made no attempt to drive off the lesser fry,—seemed 
generously willing, rather, that they should share. The Vultures, in turn, 
appear to cherish a certain esteem for their greater brethren. Time and 
again Brown has seen the Turkey Vultures sally forth from their rookery 
by the dozen or score to greet their homing kinsmen, circling about them, 
and appearing to act as a sort of escort or guard of honor for returning 
royalty. And at a time when the buzzards are wrangling and crowding 
each other off the roost, the Condor sits by in calm dignity. He is no 
brawler. 

To our astonishment, we learn that Condors take fastidious care of 
their persons. They are fond of the water, and after a bath will hang out 
their wings todry. This operation over with, they primp and preen them- 
selves by the hour. Of course, much of this care is that of a good mechanic, 
who must “look after the machine.’”’ A Condor is a very special sort of 
airplane, and whatever the fuel he burns—and it must be confessed that 
much of it is low grade—the engine has to be kept clean. Nature supplies 
the cylinders, the struts and guy-wires, but the Condor attends to the 
upkeep. Every element in rudder or aileron must be kept in perfectly 
serviceable condition. So the bird nibbles and strokes and varnishes and 
adjusts— what wonder if he spends hours at it! 

It is not certain that the Condor prefers its meat rare, either. Fin- 
ley’s ‘‘General”’ was fed on fresh beef, a pound a day, and he promptly 
rejected anything tainted. His master couldn’t put anything over on 
him, and from a mixed lot of food which included beef and squirrel, the 
bird selected only the former. One wonders whether the acceptance of 
the, to us, repulsive diet of carrion was not dictated rather by the Con- 
dor’s innate gentleness of character than by indolence or ‘“‘degeneracy.” 


1727 


The California Condor 


Seize and grasp he cannot. His 
feet, though large and powerful, 
have stubby claws. Kill he will 
not—and there you have it. 
Really gentle folk must often sit 
at the second table simply be- 
cause they do cherish their 
integrity. 

The Condor, though 
neither quarrelsome nor tyran- 
nical, will not submit to hector- 
ing. Brown details an instance 
where a jealous Eagle, a ‘“‘Gol- 
den” it was, became increas- 
ingly offensive to a peaceable 
group of Condors, until at last 
he struck one of them. Of 
course, the smaller the bully the 
greater the advantage in the air 
game. But something had to be 
done. The three Condors re- 
tired down the ridge for consul- 
tation. The Eagle, meanwhile, 
puffed with pride, and believing 
— ate , himself victorious, seated him- 
Taken in Los Angeles Counly Photo by Finley and Bohlman o 

“GENERAL,” AGED 54 DAYS self in the topmost bough of a 
pine tree and listened to the 
murmured applause of the dicky birds. His eye must have _ been 
turned patronizingly downward, for presently a black thunderbolt 
struck him unawares and sent him crashing heels over crown down 
into the lower branches. But the Eagle was game. Screaming with 
rage, he started to mount, intent on taking vengeance upon his pur- 
suers. The Condors, however, had thought that all out, and while the 
Eagle was dodging one thunderbolt the other two were qualifying for 
position. It was too much, and the reputed “‘king of birds” fled the 
country. 

The Condor is monarch of the air. We cannot say that there are not 
swifter birds or more agile birds, but there are none among land birds in 
whom powers of endurance have been more fully developed, or who have 
achieved a mastery more unquestioned. Apart from the mechanics of 
gliding flight, a matter which we have discussed elsewhere in these pages, 
there remain the two marvels of majesty and endurance. We shall prob- 


1728 


The California Condor 


ably never know how long a Condor can stay aloft without replenishing his 
“fuel tank,’’ but it would probably be several days, not impossibly several 
weeks—for whoever heard of a Vulture starving to death? The normal 
habit would appear to be a feast of two or three days’ duration, and at 
whatever necessary distance from home, followed by a loafing time of a 
week or so spent upon the ancestral ledges. Even then, the bird takes the 
air daily for practice or for joy, but it is doubtful if his quest for food is a 
serious one within a week after a big feed. The margin of safety, there- 
fore, must certainly be very much longer. 

Of course, in such an “endurance plane’’ as this, economy of effort 
is reduced to its lowest terms. Propulsive effort, wing-flapping, is rare, 
useful only for emergencies. The normal course is sailing, in great circles, 
so effortless that the observer loses the sense of it. Indeed, if our theory 
of gliding flight is the correct one, it is the wind that does the work and 
all the bird does is to guide the rudder or adjust the aileron. Mileage 
doesn’t matter, “‘gas’’ is cheap (if obtainable). There are no speed cops 
in the highways of the upper air. Sail on! Sail on! 

Or, if you insist upon knowing something of the ‘“‘model,’’ before you 
will observe the action, know, then, that a full-grown Condor, normally 
ballasted, weighs about 20 pounds. Exceptional birds have weighed 26 
pounds, but these were probably killed near a carcass. The wings are 
relatively short and rounded, with very widely separated tips. The flexi- 
bility of these wing-tips guarantees ease and safety in banking, for were 
they more rigid, something, whether bone or quill, would give way under 
the strain of a twenty-pound projectile doing a hairpin turn at, say, sixty 
miles per hour. In efforts to express the grandeur of the bird’s presence 
and its impressive size, the Condor’s wing-spread has often been exag- 
gerated. According to Mr. Frank Stephens, ‘‘a bird that measures ten 
feet, laid on its back on the floor and marked at wing tips without really 
stretching the bird, is an exceptionally large bird.’’ Nine feet is a fairer 
average. Whether there have actually been specimens which would go 
eleven feet, we are not prepared to say. 

Of course such a large “‘plane’’ requires a considerable field for a 
take-off. The Condor, starting from the level ground, makes a little run 
and flaps vigorously in order to get under way. In the earlier days, advan- 
tage was taken of this necessity by cattle men or at least by mischievous 
cowboys, who would build a fence around a carcass. The Vulture, unable 
to resist the temptation to feast, would eventually settle within the narrow 
enclosure and could be captured with a rush before he had time to clamber 
out. It is for this reason, no doubt, that the Condor’s lighting range in- 
cludes only very open country or very rough country, where the bird can 
take the air simply by pitching forward. Once a-wing the bird fears 


1729 


The California Condor 


neither accident nor foe; but with wings set 
rigidly, so far as support is concerned, he 
quarters back and forth across the face of the 
cliff with never a flicker of propulsive effort, 
or else rises in great circles to whatever realm 
he pleases of upper air. If the hunting ground 
be a distant one, the Condor will rise to a con- 
siderable height,—say 2000 or 3000 feet above 
the mountain top; and then, with set wings, 
glide directly forward down a slope with an 
incredibly low gradient, depending, of course, 
upon the direction and velocity of the wind, 
and so swiftly that he will pass out of range of 
a good field telescope within ten minutes. 
There is no more majestic spectacle in the 
bird world than that afforded by this Condor 
glide. It is as rigid, as inexorable, as funda- 
mental as the law of gravitation itself. Once, 
and only once in a residence of twelve years, 
have we seen a Condor at Los Colibris. It was 
flying due south, and since it was at an eleva- 
tion of two or three thousand feet, it should 
have made Santa Cruz Island if the wind held, 
without shifting a feather. Such marvelous 
specialization, however, carries with it certain 
penalties. Just because the sails of this bird 
are so accurately trimmed for the utilization of 
light breezes, the craft itself is unable to make 


‘SA 


Taken in Los Angeles Counly 


Phcto by W. L. Finley and H. T. Bohlman headway against a strong wind. Not even by 
SECURING A FOOTING flapping can the Condor negotiate a breeze 


above a certain intensity. What the bird does 
in such an emergency is best told by Brown, who was once present on a 
quite critical occasion. Telescope in hand, the bird-watcher was resting 
upon a certain low crest about a mile northeast of the Condor cliffs, which 
here furnish a portion of the main crest of the San Juan range. Presently 
he descried four Condors approaching from the far northeast, but before 
they came up a smart breeze sprang up from the southwest, and presently 
it whistled over the peaks with increasing fury. The birds were baffled 
on the very last mile of their approach. They tacked back and forth, 
down wind, or struggled valiantly in the teeth of the gale, only to be 
swept away again and again. The cold sea breeze had it in for them, and 
though it was only mid-afternoon, it began to look to the observer like a 


1730 


case of sleeping out that night. 


The California Condor 


But off to the southeastward some twenty 
or thirty miles, the Carisso plains lay baking in the sun. 


The focal point 


of this great oven was sending up a huge column of heated air, as evi- 
denced by clouds slowly revolving at the height of a mile or so above the 


plain. 


What followed can best be given in Mr. Brown’s own words: 


“Presently one of the Condors gave up the fight, sailed a mile or so to the 
eastward, and, after circling to gain elevation, made away in a bee-line 


for the southeast. In a short time the 
other three went through the same manoeu- 
ver and followed after their companion. 
I now brought my telescope into action 
and I never took the glass off the birds 
although they became mere specks in the 
sky. The Condors did not swerve from 
their course until they entered the spiral 
cloud. Upon striking that ascending col- 
umn of air they rose rapidly, apparently 
without effort, as a balloon might rise, 
being now and again lost to view in the 
fleecy folds of ascending vapor, until 
within an incredibly short space of time 
they emerged above the clouds, into a 
higher region of absolute clearness, say 
three miles above the earth. Here they 
must have found themselves well above and 
quite free from the lower currents of air 
which had plagued them, for now they 
sailed straight to the westward, descended 
and—glided triumphantly homeward on 
the wings of their ancient enemy, the south- 
west gale! 

“T do not think that more than thirty 
minutes had elapsed from the time the 
Condors gave up the fight till they were 
safely at roost in their rookery; yet these 
birds must have traveled somewhere from 
fifty to seventy miles to accomplish their 
purpose, and the whole performance took 
place without the flap of a wing.”’ 

We leave it to the reader to judge 
whether such an action as the foregoing 
springs from instinct or from intelligence. 


* ‘= 
‘bh 4 \) y \ | 
Taken in Los Angeles County Photo by Finley and Bohlman 
MEASURABLY REASSURED 


HRI 


The California Condor 


So far we have assumed, rather than stated, that the California Con- 
dor is a rare bird, and that an acquaintance with it at first hand is a cov- 
eted privilege. It is so rare a bird that it is doubtful if there are in exist- 
ence one hundred representatives of the species at the present time 
(Sept., 1921), and it would not be very surprising if there should prove to 
be not above forty. The center of ‘‘abundance”’ is, as it probably always 
has been, the southwestern coastal ranges of California. Birds were also, 
until recently, found in the San Gabriel-San Bernardino ranges and 
throughout the entire southern system, well down into Lower California. 
The species doubtless still persists in the San Pedro Martir Mountains of 
Lower California, but in all probability it has 
within the past two decades died out of the 
region intervening between Ventura County 
or extreme northern Los Angeles County 
and the Mexican line. Yet California was 
once a paradise for Vultures; and a fauna 
which boasted camels and elephants and 
saber-toothed tigers supported not only Vul- 
tures and Condors in profusion, but a super- 
Condor, one Teratornis merriami, which had 
a stretch of wings of perhaps eighteen feet, 
and which made our hero look like a bantam. 
These things we know—and enough more to 
fill an avian Arabian Nights—from the won- 
derful Brea beds, or swamp of asphaltic ooze, 
near Los Angeles. 

Within historic times the California Con- 
dor ranged as far as the lower stretches of the 
Columbia River, and J. K. Townsend, sta- 
tioned in the Thirties at Fort Vancouver, 
Washington, saw them there, apparently at 
different seasons, feasting upon the stranded 
salmon. Drs. Newberry and Cooper, fol- 
lowing in the Fifties, failed to find them any- 
where north of the California line, and com- 
mented upon their absence. Franklin J. 
Smith records! specimens killed near Eureka, 
one in the fall of 1889 or 1890, and the other 
taken 60 miles east of Eureka, in the fall of 
1892. Finley records? the bird in southern 


Taken in Los Angeles County : 
Photo by Finley and Bohlman Oregon as late as 1904, on the authority of 
PORTRAIT OF “GENERAL” Sa 


1 Condor, Sept. 1916, p. 205. 
*Condor, Vol. X., Jan. 1908, p. 10. 


1732 


Messrs. George and Henry Peck, both of 
whom he testifies to be reliable ornithologists 
and well acquainted with the species in south- 
ern California. John Fannin, some time 
curator of the Provincial Museum at Vic- 
toria, B. C., claims to have seen two Condors 
at Burrard Inlet (near Vancouver) in Sep- 
tember, 1880, and again two on September 
10, 1896, in Alberta between Calgary and the 
Rocky Mountains.' In the latter instance 
the observer was almost certainly mistaken. 
He probably saw Golden Eagles, which in the 
adolescent plumage exhibit a faint patch on 
the under surface of the wing, and so remind 
the uninitiated of the well-known diagnostic 
mark of the Condor. It would be cruel to 
suggest that the same mistake might have 
been made at Burrard Inlet, and the occur- 
rence, if true, would be much less remarkable, 
because the Fraser River in salmon time 
offers much the same attraction as did the 
Lower Columbia a century ago. 

But whatever the former range of the 
Condor, and the early records are very meager, 
it is certain that its present range does not 
extend north of Monterey. And while it was 
probably never anything more than acciden- 
tal east of the Sierras, its occurrence upon the 
western slopes of those mountains, even upon 
the lowest foothills, is now rarely noted. Its 
present range, as nearly as we can make out, 
is restricted to portions of nine California 
counties. Civilization has about done for the 
Condor, as it has done for the bison, the 
grizzly, the bighorn and the antelope, or, for 
that matter, the Indian. But because this 
process is still going on before our eyes, it 


The California Condor 


Taken in Los Angeles County Photo by Finley and Bohlman 


PORTRAIT OF CALIFORNIA CONDOR 
NOTE THE REGAL RUFF AT ITS BEST 


becomes pertinent to inquire as to the exact causes of the Condor’s de- 
crease. Among these, I would place first and foremost, gunfire. The 
wanton destruction of these noble birds has gone steadily forward until 
very recent years. Since our constitutional guarantees have made every 


1 The Auk, Vol. XIV., Jan. 1897, p. 890. 


1733. 


The California Condor 


man a potential killer, an agent of destruction with an ever increasing 
range of power, the thoughtless and the weak-minded have taken delight 
in slaughter. And the nobler the victim the louder the guffaw when he 
tell a crumpled mass of feathers—that was all. A dead Condor could win 
a moral beggar a momentary applause at the local hardware store; but a 
Condor wantonly slain was a dead epic, a treasure-laden galleon ‘“‘spurlos 
versenkt,’’ and an indictment of a civilization false at the core. 

Again, the early prospectors found that the great wing-quills of the 
Condor made convenient receptacles for carrying gold dust. Hundreds 
fell, no doubt, before this trifling excuse, which has been paraded on every 
page of history where the Condor is mentioned. Lastly, the exactions of 
science have added their quota to the mortal agonies of a dying race. I 
make no comment upon the exceptional privileges granted to some of our 
leading museums. Such monumental records, conscientiously prepared, 
are suitable and necessary; but in the Nineties of the last century and in 
the early years of this, when the word went out that the Condor was “‘get- 
ting scarce,’”’ every bird-stuffer and every village junk-pile, dubbed mu- 
seum, saw to it that it got its share. The odlogists rallied to the fray, and 
the less scrupulous of their number, not content with one or two speci- 
mens, set out to get all they might while the getting was good. The get- 
ting, we are told, is no longer good. The race, never prolific, since a pair 
of birds produce only an egg in a season, is now falling below the breeding 
level. The social incentive for reproduction is wanting. Hunted crea- 
tures do not breed. 

But, understand, I blame no one. Blaming never did any good, 
anyhow. What people do of their own free will gets done, and the rest 
goes undone. Legal protection? But what is the law except a crystal- 
lized expression of public opinion? If its expression happens to synchro- 
nize with the workings of the public conscience, well and good. The law 
becomes a motto. If its promulgation anticipates by too much the ad- 
vancement of the public conscience, the law is ignored, evaded, or openly 
flouted. Or, again, if the statutory expression lags behind the public 
mind, the enactment is futile: it simply reiterates the commonplace. 
Law, then, is not a remedy, but a record of progress. And progress has 
to come from the inside. But whether we blame or withhold our blame, 
the Condor is the loser. Perhaps it was all impossible. Civilization will 
eventually abolish carrion—that goes without saying—and the Condor, if 
he stayed, would have had to draw his belt tighter and tighter. You see 
the end. Perhaps these very unconscious forces of destruction, blind, 
selfish, irresponsible, were ordained in mercy. 

In the last place we note that there is a widespread opinion that the 
disappearance of the Condor was occasioned by the use of poison. The 


1734 


The California Condor 


a 


Taken tn Los Angeles County Photo by W. L. Finley and H. T. Bohlman 


MATERNAL ANXIETY 
THIS IS THE MOTHER OF “'GENERAL,’’ THE FAMOUS CAPTIVE IN THE NEW YORK ZOOLOGICAL PARK 


cattle-men, frenzied by the depredations of the coyotes, poisoned their 
beef carcasses. The coyotes ate and were killed. Ergo, the Vultures, who 
feasted with them, must have perished by scores. It sounds very plausible, 
but I am not persuaded. Evidence is lacking to show that the Vultures 
did die of poison. The question should have been very easy to determine. 
Vultures lingered about their fallen prey and gorged to repletion. If 
they fell, they must have fallen in their tracks, or at least in the open. 
But there is no record of such destruction. There are two other alterna- 
tives. A Condor’s stomach can stand a great deal of abuse. Ptomaines, for 
example, have no terrors for it. Again, a bird has unusual facilities, up 
to a certain point, for ‘“‘unswallowing”’ food which disagrees with it. In 
such fashion I think our friend has succeeded in escaping the wholesale 
punishment so generously meted out to it—on paper. Perhaps I am 
wrong, but here at least is something to think about. 


1735 


The Turkey Vulture 


Of course, there is more to be said about the Condor. We have 
discoursed, instead, perhaps to our undoing, of law and scenery and aéro- 
nautics. But the Condor deserves a volume to himself. He should have 
a biographer duly appointed by the State and given full jurisdiction over 
Condor territory. It would be a social service well worth the effort if 
some painstaking and devoted admirer of this noble bird would spend six 
years in an exhaustive study of the Condor afield. Only so shall we ever 
have an adequate account of one of Nature’s most impressive, aye, majes- 
tic children. And such a study will have to be undertaken, if at all, 
within the decade. 


No. 340 


Turkey Vulture 


A. O. U. No. 325. Cathartes aura septentrionalis Wied. 

Synonym.—TurKEyY Buzzarp. 

Description.—Aduli: Head and neck all around naked, livid crimson; above 
lustrous black with purple and violet reflections, varied by grayish brown edgings of 
feathers; plumage changing below to more uniform sooty brown, lustrous only on 
breast; wing-quills and rectrices light dusky below, with whitish shafts; primaries 
deeply emarginate, the tips considerably separated in flight, very flexible; iris brownish 
gray; bill dull white; cere bright red. Young: Similar, but dusky on head and neck, 
with downy grayish brown feathers; bill blackish. Nestlings: Covered with heavy 
white down, but head naked,—light bluish black. Length 685.8-812.8 (27.00-32.00); 
extent about six feet; wing 558.8 (22.00); tail 292.1 (11.50); bill including cere 55.9 
(2.20); tarsus 65 (2.56). 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size or less; naked red head; black plumage 
nearly uniform; soaring flight. 

Nesting.— Nest: In hollow trees, stumps or fallen logs, or in crannies of cliffs; 
unlined. Eggs: 2; elliptical-ovate, dull white, greenish or buffy white, spotted and 
blotched irregularly with rich dark brown. Av. size 71.1 x 49.5 (2.80 x 1.95). Season: 
April to May; one brood. 

Range of Cathartes aura.—North and South America from southern Canadian 
Provinces south to Patagonia and the Falkland Islands. 

Range of C. a. septentrionalis—North America from the southern portions of 
the western Canadian Provinces, southwestern Ontario, southern New York, and New 
Jersey, south to northern Mexico and southern Lower California, wintering easterly 
in all except the northern portion of its range, but in the West retiring as far as Nebraska 
and California. 

Distribution in California.—Resident south of the Tehachipe and casually 
north (or perhaps winter visitors) to Vaca Valley, Solano County (Grinnell).  Else- 
where found commonly in spring, summer, and fall throughout the State, save in Boreal 
zone. Most abundant in warmer sections, and breeding almost exclusively in Upper 
Sonoran zone. 

Authorities —Gambel (Cathartes aura), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., iii., 1846, 
p. 44 (Calif.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 37 (San Joaquin Valley). 


1730 


Taken in Kern County 


The Turkey 
Vulture 


THE BUZZARDRY 
A WONDERFUL CARPET OF BLUE FLOWERS LEADS UP TO THIS APARTMENT HOUSE FOR VULTURES 


IN THE FOG-BELT, the Vulture’s day may not begin before eight 
or nine o'clock in the morning, but once a-wing our sable hero enters upon 
a quest the most active and tireless, the most patient, and the most 
often unrewarded, of any which mortals know. Eternal hunger is a-wing, 
and when the Buzzard sweeps low to bend upon you an inquiring eye, 
you shudder. The passing shape casts a shadow as of death, and it is 
really the grave which appraises you in that deferential, hopeful gaze. 
But do not be dismayed! It isa gentle ghoul. He has not in himself the 
power of death for so much as a toad; and as for death’s debris, why 
should not our thrifty mother feed her other children at our expense, 
if we are careless enough to get left around? 

It is as an aviator rather than as a sexton, however, that one should 
think of the Turkey Vulture. His performances in the air are such as to 
awaken unqualified enthusiasm; and it is interesting to note in this con- 
nection that Cathartes aura, the species, is the oldest living performer 
among that highly specialized group of stars, the Cathartide. While 
he did not actually invent the heavier-than-air machine—gracious, no!— 
the Turkey Vulture was calmly practicing the aviator’s art at least half 
a million years before the Wright Brothers waxed ambitious. No wonder, 
then, that he is such an adept, or that his more adaptable type of ‘“‘ma- 
chine’’ has witnessed the downfall of half a dozen earlier models,—Cath- 
arista shastensis Miller, Gymnogyps amplus, and the rest. No more 
interesting chapter, by the way, has ever been written in avian paleon- 
tology than that brought to light by Professor Loye Holmes Miller, of 
Los Angeles. This gifted investigator finds that at least eight species 
of Vultures have at one time or another inhabited California, and that 
Cathartes aura was contemporaneous with the oldest of them. Our sable 


LOS 


Photo by the Author 


The Turkey Vulture 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
WAITING FOR THE CORONER 


friend dined on Mylodon cutlets @ la frangaise, or sat enviously by while 
Teratornis merriamt, the giant Condor of old, helped himself to the choic- 
est portions of a foundered mammoth. 

Be that as it may, the crowning touch of a summer day, A. D. 1918 
—28—38, is afforded by the sight of a small company of Turkey Vultures 
lazily drifting across the middle distance, soaring, shifting, wheeling, 
weaving endless circles, in restful monotony of midsummer content. 
Lost in admiration and in envy of their powers, we may well forget that 
these gifted aviators are repulsive in presence or abject in demeanor. 
As a decorative feature in the landscape, the Vulture possesses an irre- 
placeable value. And if you add to this the wonder of wings, the mystery 
or the incomprehensible adroitness of gliding flight, you have just grounds 
for respect. 

As a problem in aerodynamics, ‘‘the way of an Eagle (Vulture) in 
the air’’ is little nearer solution today than it was in Agur’s time. All we 
can do is to record the appearances. If caught upon the ground, the 
Vulture pitches forward, gives an awkward flap or two to clear his footing, 
rises sharply, almost immediately catching the air in his ample wings, 
and begins to sail. Henceforth, with motionless pinions he tilts and 


1738 


The Turkey Vulture 


turns and sweeps about in stately curves, or glides swiftly off at will 
in any direction. How does he do it! It is easy to see how a bird, 
moving with the wind and falling sharply, may wheel and breast the 
wind more sharply still, using his acquired momentum to gain a greater 
height than the one originally occupied. In this the momentum is like 
the pull of the string which 
enables the kite to shoot 
rapidly upward through the 
air. But what shall we say 
of a bird which, without 
momentum, but still on mo- 
tionless wing, rises steadily 
against the wind? Not only 
rises, but makes rapid prog- 
ress forward, as well, in a 
direction contrary to the 
wind. Ascending air-cur- 
rents, the engineers say; but 
it seems to me that they are 
only masking their ignorance 
or begging the question. As- 
cending air currents are un- 
doubtedly an important 
modifying factor operative 
near inequalities of the land’s 
surface; but it yet remains 
to be proved that the mere 
radiation of heat from the 
earth’s surface is sufficient to 
sustain a weight aloft. It 
will not do so on a perfectly 
calm day, however intense 
the radiative action. I stub- 
bornly believe, therefore, that 
the configuration of a bird’s 
wing is such that it is enabled 
to play gravity as if it were 
a kite string, and to resolve 
the thrust of the wind into 
its two elements of drift and 
lift, neutralizing the one and 


eter ge Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
utilizing the other to any re- AN ANCIENT MODEL 


1739 


The Turkey Vulture 


quired degree.!. Anyhow a Vulture’s wing is a ‘“‘plane”’ of a very special 
kind. The bird can travel on the wind in any direction, whatever the 
state of the atmosphere. If this be due to ‘“‘convection’”’ make the 
most of it. 

The American Vulture is not a high-flyer, like those of the Orient. 
He does not lose himself in the empyrean, after the approved fashion of 
Gyps fulvus, or Neophron percnopterus, or even of our own Condor. 
Nevertheless, it is evident that our Buzzard places chief dependence upon 


Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author 
AT THE MOUTH OF A NESTING CAVE 


his marvelous eyesight. No visible corruption, be it ever so humble, 
escapes his notice. But as to the bird’s ability to discover hidden treasure, 
a marked difference of opinion exists. Some authorities have stoutly 
denied that the Vulture depends at all upon its sense of smell, and cite 
instances of reeking carrion lightly covered with earth which provoked 
no attention from the Buzzards. A possible reason for this alleged 
inability to locate offal by scent alone is brought forward by Coues: 
“Certain it is that independent of the passing contents of the alimentary 
canal, permanent foetid odors exhale from the bones and muscles; and 


‘ tRecent theory and practice have abundantly confirmed the author's position, which he has consistently main- 
tained for thirty years. 


1740 


the same stench is en- 
tangled in the web of the 
feathers. It is retained 
for a long while even 
after the bird is killed 
and stuffed. So strong 
is it that one author, 
an excellent naturalist, 
too, fancied it must be 
rather unpleasant to the 
birds themselves.” Since 
the birds, therefore, reek 
with filth, they are not 
in a position to exercise 
discrimination with ref- 
erence to external scents. 

On the other hand, 
Dr. Joseph Grinnell cites 
repeated instances! in 
which Turkey Vultures, 
apparently guided by 
the sense of smell, have 
found concealed bait in- 
tended for mammals. Of 
his work in the lower 
valley of the Colorado 
Dr. Grinnell says:2 ““We 
were continually both- 
ered in our mammal 
trapping by these birds. 
Wherever meat bait was 
used and the steel traps 
left out during the day 
unsprung, no matter 


The Turkey Vulture 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the 


SOMETHING DOING 
TURKEY VULTURES ARE NOT OFTEN FOUND IN SUCH LARGE COMPANIES 


how far back under thick bushes these were placed, and so concealing 
the setting from view, the turkey buzzards were almost certain to get 
caught. Fully two dozen were thus captured, and, being seldom severely 
injured, were usually released.’” The question is, therefore, still open 


to debate. 


Turkey Vultures are indefatigable gleaners and scavengers, and as 


An Account of the Birds and Mammals of the San Jacinto Area of Southern California,’’ by J. Grinnell and 
H. S. Swarth, U. of C. Pub. in Zool. Vol. 10, No. 10, pp. 234, 
“An Account of the Mammals and Birds of the Lae eslomdo Valley,’ by Joseph Grinnell, U. of C. Pub. 


in Zool., Vol. 12, No. 4, p. 123 (1914). 


I74I 


Author 


Taken in Riverside 


The Turkey Vulture 


such are more in evidence in Califor- 
nia than all other Raptors combined. 
The carcass of a large animal, a 
horse or a cow, will attract a score 
or more of these gruesome banquet- 
ers. The early comers stuff them- 
selves to repletion, and then stand 
about upon the ground or roost in 
neighboring trees until nature has 
completed her task, and appetite 
returns. At such feasts the Ravens 
and Eagles get first helpings; Con- 
dors, if any, come in next; so that 
“Buzzards,” perforce, get only the 
leavings. It does not seem true, as 
has sometimes been asserted, that 
the birds really prefer decayed flesh. 
It is rather a matter of necessity for 
them, inasmuch as they are unable, 
except in rare instances, to rend a 
carcass sufficiently before an ad- 
vanced stage of decomposition has 
set in. 

The cattle ranges are not, as we 
should have expected, especially fa- 
vored by these birds. The wide- 
spread practice of stockmen of poi- 
soning carcasses for coyotes probably 
accounts for this fact. The Vulture 
is not in any particular danger of his 

Se biases hile 2228251 life from poison, but an overdose of 
Cr Eee ROE ROOST: Photo by the Author strychnine will cost him his dinner; 
and what’s the use of eating, if it 
won't stay down? The Vulture has not, therefore, sunk to the moral 
level achieved by Nero and his courtiers, for these infra-beasts at their 
orgies are said to have relieved themselves again and again through the 
aid of emetics, and so gorged and swilled until drunkenness overcame 
them quite. On the other hand, Buzzards are very abundant in Mendo- 
cino and Humboldt counties, the hog-raising belt, and one may well 
believe it is because hogs are not poisoned. 

The struggle for existence, sharpened in this case by the increase 

of sanitary science, has made the apprehension of food increasingly 


1742 


The American Merganser 


difficult for the Buz- 
zard. Nothing is too 
humble for his notice, 
a dead frog, a snake, 
ora gopher. Indeed, 
the buzzards are un- 
der an increasing debt 
of obligation to the 
automobilists, who 
leave now and then a 
cat or squirrel in their 
scented wake. Buz- 
zards resort also to 
the seashore, and 
share with the scav- 
enger gulls the charity 
of a scornful ocean. 
Storm-beaten ducks 
and spent tom-cods 
find thus an inglorious 


‘ l A CATHARTINE DANDY 
sepu ture. YOUNG VULTURES ARE REALLY VERY HANDSOME CREATURES 


It is needless to 
add that in the gleaning of offal the Turkey Buzzards perform an invaluable 
service to humanity. The charge that they have been themselves active 
in the spread of disease, such, for instance, as hog cholera, does not seem 
to be sustained; and there is every reason why the birds should enjoy 


the fullest immunity. 


No. 341 
American Merganser 


A. O. U. No. 129. Mergus merganser americanus Cassin. 

Synonyms.—GoOosANDER. SHELDRAKE. SAw-BILL. FisH DUCK. 

Description.—Adult male: Head and upper neck greenish black, the hind-neck 
loosely crested; upper back, inner scapulars, and a prominent short bar formed by 
exposed bases of greater coverts, black; the primaries and their coverts dusky; lower 
back and tail ashy gray; neck all around, outer scapulars, most of the wing-coverts, 
speculum, and entire underparts white, the latter delicately tinged with pale salmon 
(this generally fading to creamy white in skins); tertiaries white, bordered narrowly 
with black; flanks wavy-barred, ashy gray and white. Bill and feet vermilion, the 
former black on ridge, with black hooked nail;iriscarmine. Adult female and immature: 
More conspicuously crested on hind-neck and nape; the head and upper neck dark 
cinnamon-brown, white on chin and sides of throat; above ashy blue-gray, with white 
speculum and black of wings much as in male; underparts white, shaded on sides with 


1743 


The American Merganser 


color of back, and faintly tinged with salmon. Bill red with dusky ridge; feet chrome- 
yellow or orange, with dusky webs; eyes yellow. Length: 635-685.8 (25.00-27.00); 
wing 273.1 (10.75); tail 108 (4.25); bill 54.6 (2.15); bill from nostril 38.1 (1.50); tarsus 
48.3 (1.90). Female averaging three or four inches shorter and _ proportioned 
accordingly. 

Recognition Marks.— Mallard to Brant size; long, narrow bill with prominent 
serrations on side; underparts white or pale salmon-tinted; mo rusty or ochraceous on 
breast; nostril just within basal half of bill. Lovers of swift waters; river divers. 

Nesting.— Nest: Occasionally on the ground, near stream; more commonly in 
hole of tree or stub; lined with moss, grasses, and feathers. Eggs: 6 to 16; dull creamy 
white or pale grayish yellow. Av. size 67.3 x 45.7 (2.65 x 1.80). Season: c. May 
Ist; one brood. 

Range of Mergus merganser.—Holarctic, i. e., the northern portion of Northern 
Hemisphere, south in winter to the Mediterranean, Burma, Japan, and northern Mexico. 

Range of J. m. americanus.—Breeds from Alaska, the Great Slave Lake region, 
southern Ungava, and Newfoundland south to the northern tier of states, and in the 
mountains to California, New Mexico and (formerly at least) Pennsylvania. Winters 
from the Aleutians, British Columbia, Colorado, and southern Ontario, south to the 
Gulf States, northern Mexico, and Lower California. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident on open streams, 
both interiorly and coastwise. Less common on salt water than M. serrator. Breeds 
sparingly near lakes and streams in the Sierra Nevada, at least as far south as Tulare 
County, and in the Humboldt Bay region. 

Authorities.—Cooper (Mergus americanus), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 
1870, p. 70; Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 26, 1906, p. 19 (distr. and 
migr.)—which also consult for all remaining members of this group; Law, Condor, vol. 
xiv., 1912, p. 41 (brood of young described; Lake Tahoe); Willett, Pac. Coast Avi- 
fauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 22 (occurrence in s. Calif.); Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer, Game 
Birds Calif., 1918, p. 79 (desc., habits, occurrence, etc.)—which also consult for all 
Ducks and Geese. 


THE FIRST glimpse of this splendid bird ever vouchsafed the writer 
was upon the rock-bound shore of that emerald gem of mountain lakes, 
Chelan. The bird had been surprised at the water’s edge, and winged 
as he attempted to rise. With instant decision he took to the water and 
dived sharply. When some twenty feet deep, he turned and paralleled 
the shore, intending to make a landing at some distance and secrete him- 
self among the rocks. It was a rare sight from my vantage point, some 
forty feet above, to watch the duck cleaving the water with strong con- 
certed strokes of his vermilion feet. In that limpid water the resplen- 
dent black of his head and the salmon-tinted sides shone almost as if there 
was nothing between us. I am almost sorry to add that his ruse was not 
successful, and that his skin now rests in an eastern museum. 

Not only are these Mergansers expert divers, but the sharp “‘teeth,”’ 
inclining backward as they do, are calculated to hold the most slippery 
prey. Fish caught in fair pursuit form the bulk of their food, but frogs, 
water-insects, crayfish, and other crustaceans vary the monotony. Since 


1744 


The American Merganser 


the taking of such prey depends primarily upon unimpeded eyesight, it 
goes without saying that these birds prefer clear waters and free course. 
Although they visit in winter the ocean and its estuaries, as well as the 
larger bodies of water in the central valley of California, the breeding 
range of the American Merganser includes only the crystal clear waters 
of the high Sierras and a few of the northwestern rivers. It is to be feared 
that when the Fish-duck encounters a lusty school of herring or a company 
of young salmon he does not agree that ‘“‘enough is as good as a feast.”’ 
An Arctic authority, Hearne, states that it devours fish in such great 
quantities as to be frequently obliged to disgorge several before it can 
rise from the water. It is noteworthy in this connection that the skin of 
the throat is unusually elastic, so that the bird can accommodate a large 
catch. Mr. Bowles once shot a female which had a suspiciously swollen 
throat. A post mortem disclosed a seven-inch trout, whose head was 
digesting comfortably, but whose tail had not yet found entrance into 
the bird’s stomach. After an especially satisfying meal the bird is likely 
to clamber ashore in some secluded spot and indulge in a digestive nap. 
On such an occasion I once got near enough to sprinkle salt on the glut- 
tonous creature’s tail, but a grating pebble gave the plot away before I 
got my hands upon her. 

Like the Golden-eye and certain other ducks, this Shelldrake usually 
occupies a hollow tree or stub for a nesting site. Now and then a crevice 
in the face of a cliff does duty, and old nests of hawk or crow have been 
pressed into service. Moderate elevations are favored, but Mr. Bowles 
once found a nest in a decayed fir stub at a height of over a hundred 
feet. The cavity, wherever found, is warmly lined with weeds, grasses, 
and rootlets, and plentifully supplied with down from the bird’s breast. 
The eggs are of a clear creamy, or dull buffy tint, and have that ‘“‘hard- 
oil” finish characteristic of so many ducks’ eggs, and they are further 
polished by four weeks of incubation. The young, when hatched, re- 
quire to be transported to the water in the maternal beak—a rather 
trying ordeal, we must presume, in the case of that tenth-story tenant 
of the fir stub. 

The American Merganser is rare enough as a breeding bird of Cali- 
fornia, so that we welcome the clear account furnished by Mr. Eugene 
Law:! 

“One of the prettiest sights of my experience came very unexpectedly 
while I was standing on a board walk in front of a little cabin at the edge 
of Lake Tahoe about 5 p. m. on June 24, 1911. This was in a little cove 
occupied by fishermen at the source of the Truckee River between Tahoe 
Tavern and Tahoe City. At this particular spot the walk stood out over 
the water and on either side the willow marsh extended out to a like 
distance. . 1745 

1 Condor, Vol. XIV., Jan. 1912, pp. 41 and 42. 


The American Merganser 


“Suddenly we heard a hoarse masculine ‘quack’ almost under our 
feet and a beautiful adult American Merganser, with glossy auburn head 
and crest, glided out, followed by eighteen or twenty babies not over a 


Taken at Santa Cruz Island Photo by the Author 
RED-BREASTED MERGANSER, MALE, IN SURF 


week old. The 
water wasassmooth 
as glass, and this 
pretty procession 
paid no attention to 
us as it passed the 
length of the short 
walk within five feet 
of where we stood. 
The little ones kept 
close in the wake of 
the mother, moving 
quickly here and 
there, never quiet a 
minute, and chang- 
ing positions so rap- 
idly that 1t was im- 
possible to accu- 
rately count them. 
The mother’s 
commanding 
‘quack’ seemed to 
keep the little ones 
in perfect obedience 
and they behaved 
like a company of 
little soldiers. They 
were a pretty golden 
brown, each with a 
conspicuous 
white spot on each 
wing. Evidently 
they were after 
their supper and all 
working hard. 
They passed 


quickly on, then tacked back a little further out, then gradually worked 
across the cove and into the willows a few hundred yards along the shore. 
“Several times the mother raised almost out of the water and dashed 


1740 


The Red-breasted Merganser 


quickly along for fifty feet or so, every chick rising and skipping after her, 
flapping its little wings and paddling the surface of the water with its 
little feet. After three of these spurts the youngsters seemed to tire, and 
one climbed on its mother’s back; and soon several had done so, and rode 
securely there as long as they were in sight. Fortunately we had a good 
pair of Zeiss glasses and were able to watch every movement until they 
disappeared into the willows.” 


No. 342 


Red-breasted Merganser 


A. O. U. No. 130. Mergus serrator Linneus. 
Synonyms.—RED-BREASTED SHELDRAKE. SHELLDRAKE. SAW-BILL. 


Description.—Adult male: Head all around black, with a greenish gloss on 
sides above; a loose crest from crown to nape; middle of neck all around white; lower 
neck all around (narrowly and impurely behind) and fore-breast, cinnamon-rufous 
streaked with black; sides of breast, upper back, and inner scapulars black; a tuft 
of enlarged feathers on sides of breast before wing, each feather white, bordered 
completely with black; wing-coverts, outer scapulars, speculum, and inner secondaries 
white, the last black-edged; two narrow transverse black bars formed by exposed 
bases of greater coverts and secondaries; primary-coverts, outer secondaries, and 
primaries blackish; sides and around on rump heavily wavy-barred, black and white; 
lower back and tail ashy gray, more or less speckled or wavy-barred on tips with black 
and whitish; lower breast, belly, and crissum white, usually tinged with pale salmon or 
cream-color. Bill narrower than in preceding species; bill and feet bright red, the 
former with dusky ridge; eyes carmine. Adult female and immature: Similar to those 
of preceding species, but head duller, grayish chestnut; white of wing without black 
bars; position of nostrils distinctive. Bill and feet duller-colored. Length 508-635 
(20.00-25.00); wing 243.8 (9.60); tail 82.6 (3.25); bill 55.9 (2.20); bill from nostril 
44.5 (1.75); tarsus 44.5 (1.75). Female somewhat smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size; narrow serrated bill; head loosely crested; 
reddish of breast and sides wavy-barred black and white, specifically distinctive for 
male. Females of this species cannot be told out of hand from those of MW. m. ameri- 
canus. In hand the nostril within basal third of bill (as distinguished from nostril 
just within basal half for MZ..m. americanus) is diagnostic. River divers. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground under logs, brush, rocks, and the like, near 
water; lined with leaves, moss, and feathers. Eggs: 6 to 12; olive-buff to deep olive- 
buff. Av. size 65 x 44.7 (2.56 x 1.76). Season: April 20-May 10; one brood. 

General Range.—Northern portion of Northern Hemisphere, breeding north- 
erly; south in winter to the Mediterranean, India (rarely), China, Japan, and the 
southern United States. In America breeds from the Arctic Coast south to the north- 
ern tier of states and winters in open water south to Lower California, Louisiana, and 
Florida; casually to Cuba and Hawaii. 


1747 


The Red-breasted Merganser 


Distribution in California.—Common winter resident along the entire sea- 
coast and among the islands; usually found just off shore or in brackish ponds and 
estuaries. Occurs also irregularly upon larger bodies of fresh water (Salton Sea, 
Apr. 27, 1917). 

Authorities.—Newberry, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 1857, p. 104 (San 
Francisco); Nelson, Rep. Nat. Hist. Coll. Alaska, 1887, p. 66 (desc. nest, eggs, habits, 
etc.); C. W. Townsend, Auk, vol. xxviii., 1911, p. 341 (courtship, etc.; New England). 


SWIMMING is the way of nature and flying a slowly acquired art 
for the Shelldrakes. The adults, indeed, are capable of rising quickly and 
flying with great rapidity at a considerable height, but oftener they patter 
over the surface of the water to get a running start, and then with out- 
stretched neck and supple wing skim along close to the water, as though 
loth to leave its friendly shelter. Many a time have I seen them in the 
swiftest part of some rushing stream, repeatedly breasting the current 
with tireless energy for the sake of being swept along some favorite riffle 
under water, adding thus the momentum of the stream to their own power 
of locomotion in enabling them to seize quickly unsuspecting trout. 

The young birds swim from the shell, but are nearly full grown before 
they can fly. A troop of half-grown young under the care of the mother 
bird affords an interesting study, and not infrequently provokes some 
novice to make the exertion of his life at the oars. At this time there is 
scarcely more than a trace of muscular tissue on the breast of the young- 
sters, but the swimming gear, the legs and hinder portions, is fully de- 
veloped, so that in motion the birds look curiously like long-necked water- 
bottles. If pursued in a boat the brood keeps well together, each bird 
leaning forward, almost standing on the water, and keeping up a motion 
like a tiny stern-wheeler, the whole flock leaving a wake behind them not 
unlike that of a small steamer. The anxious mother directs the flight, 
now dropping into the water to urge the chicks to greater exertions, now 
flying back to distract the attention of the pursuers, or to develop some 
ruse to cover the escape. Once when a party of us were pursuing a brood 
in this manner along the rocky shore of Lake Chelan, the mother bird 
hit upon a very clever scheme. When the flock was becoming winded 
and we would head in toward them, she would fly between us and the 
shore, pretending to lead the flock back down the lake. At first we bit 
eagerly, and pressed in between her and the flock, intent on cutting off 
the retreat, only to find upon looking about that the cunning mother had 
made a wide circuit around us and was urging her brood up the lake again 
at a headlong speed. Finally, when thoroughly tired out, after a three 
mile chase, the ducklings took to shore and hid successfully in the loose 
rubble of the beach without the aid of a scrap of vegetation, and near 


1748 


The Hooded Merganser 


water so clear that a movement could have been detected at a depth of 
a hundred and fifty feet. 

The nest of the Red-breasted Merganser has never been reported 
from California. Conditions are, however, so favorable in the north- 
western humid belt that we shall not regard this as a closed case. Eggs, 
if found, would be laid in scantily constructed nests under driftwood, 
logs or rocks, and always near water. The male deserts his mate as soon 
as the eggs are laid, and lives a life of lonely and selfish, albeit adventur- 
ous, ease. In winter the birds are found upon salt water in considerable 
numbers; and from the fact that flocks of six or eight are about the aver- 
age, we judge that family groups remain clustered about their mother 
until early spring. 


No. 343 


Hooded Merganser 


A. O. U. No. 131. Lophodytes cucullatus (Linnzus). 


Description.— Adult male: Head with a large compressed semi-circular crest; 
sides of crest white in large sector, or open-fan-shaped patch; the edge black in a 
sharply defined border; fore-crown deep brown; remainder of head and neck all around, 
upperparts, and two transverse crescentic bars on each side invading white of breast, 
deep brownish black (coal black on lower scapulars); lesser and middle wing-coverts 
ashy gray; speculum and tips of greater coverts white; two small transverse black 
bars formed by exposed bases of greater coverts and of secondaries; inner secondaries 
and tertials white, heavily bordered with black; sides pale to rich cinnamon-rufous, 
wavy-barred with dusky. Bill comparatively short, narrow, black; nostril barely 
within basal third (measured from anterior margin of loral feathering); feet light 
brown; eyes yellow. Adult female: Head, neck, fore-breast, sides of breast and sides 
dull grayish brown; the crest much thinner than in male, entirely cinnamon-brown; 
upperparts deep brown, blackening on lower scapulars; wings the same with traces 
of white on edges of speculum; lower breast and belly white, shaded with brownish on 
crissum. Bill dusky, orange at base and on lower mandible. Immature: Similar to 
adult female, but crest undeveloped. Length 431.8-482.6 (17.00-19.00); av. of five 
males: wing 193.8 (7.63); tail 91.4 (3.60); bill 39.6 (1.56); tarsus 32.5 (1.28). Females 
average somewhat smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Larger than a Teal; very conspicuously round-crested. 
The male even at a superficial glance could be confused only with a Bufflehead (Chari- 
tonetta albeola). It differs from it in that the white of crest does not come to the 
edge; and, of course, in its entirely different bill. On more quiet waters,—ponds and 
sluggish streams. 

Nesting.— Nest: In a hole of tree or stump, usually near water, lined with 
grasses, etc., and feathers. Eggs: 10 to I2, sometimes more; pale buffy white or 
ivory yellow. Av. size 53.3 x 44.5 (2.10 x 1.75). Season: c. May Ist; one brood. 


1749 


The Hooded Merganser 


General Range.—Temperate North America. Breeds from central British 
Columbia, Great Slave Lake, central Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south to southern 
Oregon, northern New Mexico, Louisiana, and Florida; winters from southern British 
Columbia, Utah, Colorado, Nebraska, Ohio, and Massachusetts, south to the Gulf 
States, Cuba, Mexico, and Lower California; casual in Alaska, Greenland, and the 
British Isles. 

Occurrence in California.—Rather rare spring and fall migrant and winter 
resident. Found in coastal marshes and upon sluggish interior streams or reservoirs. 


Authorities.—Newberry (Mergus cucullatus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 104 (San Francisco); Evermann, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 89 (Ventura Co.); 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 22 (status in s. Calif.). 


THE HOODED MERGANSER is so rare a visitor within our bor- 
ders that it is always considered worth while to report its special occur- 
rence. Unlike the two larger species, it does not frequent swift streams 
nor limit its attention to emerald waters. <A sluggish lagoon or a quiet 
pond suits it better. The color of the water doesn’t matter, either, 
so long as there is an abundance of water-insects, small fish, or tadpoles. 

The beauty of this bird ought to exempt it from persecution. Its 
flesh is unfit for the table, and its numbers do not justify systematic 
pursuit. Nevertheless, it has wings, and its swift eccentric flight, resem- 
bling that of a Green-winged Teal, Bowles says, provokes the skill of 
every wayside marksman. Naturally timid, it is not suffered to display 
its beauty, and incessant gun-fire has made it exceedingly wild. 

The Hooded Merganser has been reported nesting as far south as 
southern Oregon and its occurrence in our northwestern counties in the 
breeding season is not improbable. For this reason I quote two para- 
graphs by Bowles which appeared in ‘‘The Birds of Washington”: 

“During early March the flocks separate into pairs, and late in 
April all retire to fresh water to breed, the majority going north of the 
United States, but many remaining to nest along the northern border. 
About the first of May a pair may occasionally be found nesting near 
any one of the smaller unfrequented lakes of Washington, a natural 
hollow or large woodpecker hole in a tree near the water being selected 
for a nesting place. The nest is located at an elevation of from twenty 
to sometimes sixty feet from the ground, the composition being mainly 
weeds and grass, with a thick inner lining of feathers. Like the other 
Mergansers again, the male deserts his mate as soon as the eggs are laid, 
leaving her to feed herself and attend to the young. 

“Almost as soon as the eggs are hatched, the female transports the 
babies to the water, carrying each one carefully in her bill, as is probably 
the habit of all tree-nesting ducks. This is the rule, but I have been 
informed, on what I believe to be good authority, that these birds oc- 


7750 


Page cs r 
ep tie ee p 


Rah caiceael 


ee 


ea poe 


The Hooded Merganser 


General Range.—Temperate North America. Breeds from central British 
Columbia, Great Siave Lake, central Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south to southern. 
Oregon, northern New Mexico, Louisiana, and Florida; winters from southern British 
Columbia, Utah, Colorado, Nebraska, Ohio, and Massachusetts, south to the’ Gulf 
States, Cuba, Mexico, and Lower California; casual in Alaska, Greenland, and the 
British Isles. j 


Occurrence in Califernia.—Rather rare spring and fall migrant and’ winter 
resident. Found in coastal marshes and upon sluggish interior streams or reservoirs. 


Authorities.— Newberry (Mergus cucullatus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi, 
1857, p. 104 (San Francisco); Hvermann, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 89 (Ventura Co.); 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 22 (status in s. Calif.). 


THE HOODED MERGANSER is so rare a visitor within our bor- 
ders that it is always considered worth while to report its special occur- 
rence. Unlike the two larger species, it does not frequent swift streams 
nor limit its attention to emerald waters. A sluggish lagoon or a quiet 
pend suits it better. The color of the water doesn’t matter, either, 
so long as there is an abundance of water-insects, small fish, or tadpoles. y 

The beauty of this bird oug&t to exempt it from persecution. Its 
fiesh is unfit for the table, and ts numbers do not justify systematic 
pursuit. Nevertheless, it has wiggs, and its swift eccentric flight, resem- Bry 
bling that of a Green-wing@l T&J, Bowles says, provokes the skill of —§ —_. 
every wayside marksman. BNatugally timid, it is not suffered to display . © 
its beauty, and incessant gin sire has made it exceedingly wild. 

The Hooded Mergans@a tgisabeen reported nesting as far south as © 
southern Oregon and its o€Bhirreigce in our northwestern counties in the 
breeding season is not imp®liebg. For this reason [ quote two para- 
graphs by Bowles which ada Sl in “The Birds of Washington”’: 

“During early March h@ Socks separate into pairs, and late in 
April all retire to fresh wakgr to Sbreed, the majority going north of the 
United States, but many Smain§ng to nest along the northern border. 
About the first of May a pair nfay occasionally be found nesting near 
any one of the smaller unfrequgnted lakes of Washington, a. natural 
hollow or large woodpecker hole&n a tree near the water being selected 
for a nesting place. The nest iciladated at an elevation of from twenty — 
te sometimes sixty feet from the ground, the composition being mainly 
weeds and grass, with a thick inner lining of feathers. Like the other 
Mergansers again, the male deserts his mate as soon as the eggs are laid, 
leaving her to feed herseif and attend to the young. s ii) 

“Almost as soon as the eggs are hatched, the female transports the 
babies to the water, carrying each one carefully in her bill, as is probably 
the habit of all tree-nesting ducks. This is the rule, but I have been> — 
informed, on what I believe to be good authority, that these birds oc- 


The Mallard 


casionally nest on the ground, laying their eggs in a hollow in the moss, 
beneath the low-spreading branches of some fir or cedar.”’ 

Since writing the above, Mr. Bowles tells me that he has taken 
(April 21, 1917) a set of eggs of the Hooded Merganser, n/1to, from an 
artificial nesting box nailed up against a tree overlooking a secluded lake 
near Tacoma. Only the initiated can guess the skill and patience re- 
quired on the part of the o6zetetic seducteur in the landing of this difficult 
prize. 


No. 344 


Mallard 


A. O. U. No. 132. Anas boschas Linneus. 


Synonyms.—Gray Matrarp. “Wirp Duck” (par excellence). GREEN- 
HEAD. 


Description.—Adult male: Whole head and neck soft, shining, dark green; 
fore-neck and breast rich dark chestnut, with a purplish tinge, separated from green 
of neck by narrow white collar not meeting behind; sides of breast, belly, sides and 
crissum grayish white, finely undulated with dusky; the same continued on back, 
but largely overlaid or suppressed, except on scapulars, by rich brown of various shades; 
speculum (terminal portion of secondaries) shining metallic blue or purplish violet, 
bordered on either side immediately by black and then by white,—the anterior bars 
furnished by the tips of the greater coverts, the posterior by the tips of the secondaries; 
rump sooty brown; upper tail-coverts deep black with greenish gloss, the longer central 
feathers curled upward; under tail-coverts deep purplish black; tail grayish white with 
dusky speckling and central areas. Bill olive-yellow with black nail; iris hazel; feet 
orange-red. Adult female: Quite different; speculum much as in male, but remaining 
plumage dusky and ochraceous or brownish buff, the former centrally on feathers, 
broadly and prevailingly on upperparts, the latter narrowly or obscurely in crescentic, 
U-shaped, and irregular markings; below brownish buff predominant, brightest on 
breast, fading on belly; head and neck buff, sharply and finely streaked except on 
throat and usually chin, where immaculate. Adult male in summer: Much like 
female, but somewhat darker (Sharpe and Dresser). Length 508-635 (20.00-25.00); 
wing 279.4 (11.00); tail 85.1 (3.35); bill 57.2 (2.25); tarsus 44.5 (1.75). Females average 
smaller than males. 

Recognition Marks.—The standard of measurement for ducks (size of Domes- 
tic Duck). Green head of male; metallic blue speculum, bordered by black and white, 
of both sexes. 


Nesting.— Nest: On the ground, usually near water, well hidden in weeds or 
rushes, sometimes under sage-bush, at foot of tree in woods, etc., lined with trash and 
feathers. Eggs: 6 to 12, 14 of record; light greenish gray (yellowish glaucous) or 
“yellowish drab.” Av. size 58.4 x 43.2 (2.30 x 1.70); index 73.9. Season: May— 
June 15; one brood. 


T75I 


The Mallard 


General Range.—Northern Hemisphere, south to Abyssinia, northern India, 
China, and Japan. In America breeding from the Arctic Coast and Greenland south 
through the United States, except the southeastern quarter, broadly, to New Mexico 
and Lower California; wintering south from Alaska and the northern tier of states to 
the Lesser Antilles and Panama. 


Authorities.—Woodhouse, Rep. Sitgreaves Exped. Col. R., 1853, p. 103 
(common in Calif.); H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, pp. 219, 227, 230 (desc 
nest and eggs, etc.); McAtee, U. S. Dept. Agric., Bull. no. 720, 1918, p. 2 (food) 


THIS, THE CONTEMPORARY ancestor of our domestic duck, 
enjoys a distribution almost world-wide, and has been from earliest times 
the best known of swimming birds. Although nowhere in America so 
abundant as formerly, it is still the standard with which we compare 
all other species, both in point of excellence and in numbers. Being 
somewhat less gregarious than the Teals and the Sea-ducks, the Mallards 
are found in pairs or small parties, wherever a swampy pool or a widening 
of the brook affords a resting place, and one may easily recognize their 
fitness for domestication, in the fact that they can content themselves 
with a little six by eight puddle, when the whole world lies before them. 

While on the water the birds spend much time “‘tipping”’ for food. 
Heads under water and tails pointing skyward, they search the bottom 
for mollusks and crustaceans, or feed upon various kinds of aquatic 
plants which choke sluggish streams or line the edges of ponds. When 
hunger is satisfied, they frequently disport themselves upon the water, 
diving, throwing water over their backs, and splashing about with great 
ado, much like boys in the old swimming hole. Nights, especially in 
thickly settled regions, are habitually spent feeding, either by dabbling, 
or in long forays to stubble-fields, and woods where acorns abound, so 
that much of the daytime is spent sleeping just on shore, with one leg 
drawn up and the head tucked comfortably under the wing. Upon 
being surprised, the ducks rise with a great outcry, in which the female 
voice is recognized as being a little the louder, and they make off with 
rapid, strong wing-strokes, which can carry them, it is believed, a hundred 
miles an hour. 

The Mallard is perhaps the wariest, as it is certainly the most adapt- 
able, of all our ducks. These two qualities have enabled the bird to main- 
tain itself after a fashion in the face of persecution the most intense, 
the most unremitting, and until lately the least restrained of any to which 
birds have ever been subjected. That this bird has survived at all is a 
marvel; and that it is ready to become an important economic factor 
whenever and wherever a reasonable degree of protection shall be ex- 
tended to it, is a piece of good fortune beyond our deserts. 


1752 


Re The Mallard 


VULGAR COMPANY ; BON Sere age 
MUD-HENS AND BLUE-BILLS ARE a Photo by the Author 


SCARCELY FIT COMPANY FOR MALLARDS - 


It is difficult to convey to this generation any accurate conception 
of the former abundance of waterfowl in America. For nearly a century 
our ancestors in the middle East shot without regard to consequences, 
nor thought of any necessity for conservation. Professional hunters in 
the middle South wallowed in gore. They measured their captures by 
wagonloads, and shipped to the markets by carloads. In certain sec- 
tions, indeed, tons of ducks were shot annually for their feathers, and 
no account was taken of their carcasses. That this burden fell heavily 


Taken Feb. 2, 1918, near Pennington, Sutter County 


Photo by H. C. Bryant 
Use by courtesy of the California Fish and Game Commission 


THERE ARE A FEW MALLARDS LEFT 


L753 


The Mallard 


upon the Mal- 
lard goes without 
saying. They 
could not stand 
up under it for- 
ever. A recent 
example (often 
quoted) is of a 
gunner at Big 
Lake, Arkansas, 
who sold 8000 
Mallards in a sin- 
gle season, that of 
1893-94, and it 
was estimated 
that 120,000 
birds of this spe- 
cies were shipped 
that winter from 
that station 
alone. 

But now, 
thanks to intelli- 
gent legislation, 
the market hunt- 
er is a creature of 
the past. We are 
learning some- 
thing of altruistic 
restraint, and 


there is hope that 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 
HIS HONOR, THE GREENHEAD SOule © f OW 


noblest species of 
game birds may recover a semblance of their former numbers. The most 
encouraging factor in this campaign for rehabilitation is the quick recogni- 
tion on the part of the birds of the value of protected areas. Any suitable 
body of water which is really protected will teem forthwith with waterfowl. 
A dozen examples spring to mind: Eastlake and Westlake Parks in 
Los Angeles, Laguna Blanca at Santa Barbara, Lake Merritt in Oakland; 
but the supremely instructive example, I believe, occurs in Golden Gate 
Park, San Francisco. Here, in a favorable setting of Nature, which is, 
nevertheless, thronged with humans, rests Stow Lake, foremost of a little 


1754 


The Mallard 


chain-of-lakes; and here wild ducks of almost every variety accept man’s 
truce, and show themselves with increasing freedom, up to the very 
point of accepting food from the hand. Especially the Mallards, else- 
where the wariest of their kind, here find shelter and sustenance; and here, 
too, wonderful to relate, they are nesting in ever increasing numbers. 
In the summer of 1916 Messrs. Harrison and Squires! made a careful 
count of the resident (wild) Mallards of Golden Gate Park and found 
200, old and young. Although this park is thronged daily by thousands, 
and on Sundays by tens of thousands of people, the business of the birds 
was conducted 
with the same 
adroitness of 
secrecy which 
would have been 
observed in any 
secluded marsh 
of the interior; 
and that business 
thrived solely be- 
cause of the free- 
dom from inter- 
ference which 
was guaranteed 
them by vigilant 
officials, and by 
the very self-neu- 
tralizing numbers 
of the public. 
The mating 
of the Mallards is 
a rather serious 
affair, inasmuch 
as a bird once 
widowed remains 
Wim im at ea 
throughout the 
ensuing season. 
And since mates 
are selected in 
January, or early 


1See Condor, Vol. XIX., 
Mar. 1917, p. 59. RSID TUITE Photo by F. H. Holmes 


““MALLARD SLOUGH, 19007" TT 
To) 


The Mallard 


February, the folly of “spring shooting”’ is self-evident. The courtship, 
however, is mild-mannered enough, at least according to Dr. C. W. 
Townsend’s able account:! ‘“‘When the Mallard drake courts, he swims 


Taken in San Bernardino County Photo by Wright M. Pierce 
FEMALE MALLARD ON NEST 


restlessly about following 
or sidling up to a duck. 
She may lead him quite 
a chase before she vouch- 
safes to acknowledge his 
presence, although he is 
continually bowing to her, 
bobbing his head up and 
down in nervous jerks so 
that the yellow bill dips 
into the water for a quar- 
ter of its length and comes 
up dripping. He also 
rears himself up in the 
water and from time to 
time displays his breast. 
She occasionally turns her 
head to one side and care- 
lessly dabbles her bill in 
the water, but sooner or 
later, if all goes well, she 
begins to bow also, less 
vigorously at  first—not 
touching the water at all 
—and to the empty space 
in front of her. Sudden- 
ly she turns and the pair 
bow to each other in the 
same energetic nervous 
jerks; and, unless a rival 
appears to spoil the situ- 
ation, the drake has won 
his suit.”’ 

In nesting the female 
Mallard can accommodate 
herself to a great diversity 


of situations. Normally a careless accumulation of grasses and reed- 
stalks in the drier portion of a swamp will suffice. If, however, the 


1Auk, Vol. XXXIII., Jan. 1916, p. 13. 


1750 


The Black Duck 


shores of the chosen lake or pond do not offer a grassy or reedy shelter, 
the bird will make her nest at the base of a clump of bushes or of a tree. 
In the more arid sections ducks will nest under sage or other bushes a half 
mile from water. Examples also are on record where the Mallard oc- 
cupied a more elevated situation: an accumulation of moss in the crotch 
of a tree, or perhaps an old crow’s nest. Upon discovery the bird will 
flounder off her eggs, and straightway falls into a pretended swoon or 
drags her wounded (?) body painfully about—always just out of reach— 
and then, when the victim has been led far enough astray, rises and 
flies, quacking loudly. 

The male Mallard is probably more loyal than most ducks. There 
is really no use in his hanging around after the eggs are laid, and his 
conspicuous beauty might be a detriment, anyhow, in the guardianship 
of the family secret. For these and other reasons he is usually conspic- 
uous only by his absence. But when real need arises, as when the young 
are being assailed by unexpected danger, the gallant drake not infre- 
quently shows up, and adds his quackings and splashings to those of his 
wife, ably seconding frantic efforts to distract attention. He does, in 
other words, all that could be asked of him. But as for particular minis- 
trations—why, of course, ‘‘Mother knows best.” 

There does not exist in nature a more engaging sight than that of a 
mother duck tending and piloting her brood. It does not make much 
difference as to the species. Baby ducklings are irresistibly cunning, 
every one of them. They sit the water like corks, or race after their 
mothers like toy steamboats, or stick their fluffy little heads under water 
in an obedient effort to do as mother does. The mother herself is the 
soul of anxiety. And who wouldn’t be worried with a dozen babies at 
once, be they never so good! Minks think them cunning, too, and coy- 
otes, and water-snakes; and whoever saw a farmer boy who would not 
dash into a pond pell mell at sight of ducklings? All heedless the capture, 
but never a true-hearted lad who did not repent and let the peeping 
captives go. 


No. 345 
Black Duck 


A. O. U. No. 133. Anas rubripes Brewster. 
Synonym.—B Lack MALLARD. 


Description.—Adults (sexes alike): Top of head, broadly, and upperparts 
dusky brown or sooty brown, varied by pale rusty brown edgings of feathers; remainder 
of head and neck and hind-neck brownish ochraceous streaked with dusky, save that 
chin and throat often immaculate; speculum metallic blue or violet bordered by black, 


175/ 


The Gadwall 


but without white; axillars and lining of wings white; underparts like back but lighter. 
Bill yellowish green; irides brown; feet and legs orange-red, the webs darker. Length 


about 558.8 (22.00); wing 271.8 (10.70); tail 104.4 (4.11); culmen 53.6 (2.11); bill ~ 


from nostril 41.2 (1.62); tarsus 43.9 (1.73). Females average smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Size of Mallard or a little smaller. Like female Mal- 
lard, but much darker, sooty brown or blackish to appearance; no white bars on wing. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground among reeds 
or in grass near water, rather carelessly constructed of rushes or dried grass, and lined 
with feathers and down; occasionally placed in trees. Eggs: 6 to 12; elliptical or 
short elliptical ovate; white or pale creamy white. Av. size 60 x 43 (2.36 x 1.69). 
Season: May-June; one brood. 

General Range.—‘‘Eastern North America. Breeds from central Keewatin 
and northern Ungava south to northern Wisconsin, northern Indiana and southern 
Maryland; winters from Nova Scotia south to southern Louisiana and Colorado; 
west in migration to Nebraska and central Kansas” (A. O. U. Check-List, 3rd Ed.). 
Accidental in California and Jamaica. 

Occurrence in California.—Accidental, one record; adult female taken at 
Willows, Glenn County, Feb. I, 1911. 

Authority.—Grinnell, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, p. 138. 


DUCKS ARE highly sociable mortals; hence, it not infrequently 
befalls that some gay roysterer turns up in the wrong crowd. A Black 
Duck was shot at Willows, in Glenn County, Feb. Ist, 1911, and its skin 
now reposes among the immortal dead at the Museum of Vertebrate 
Zoology. The species does not normally occur west of the Great Plains, 
and it is difficult to conceive how this particular example could ever have 
fallen in with a company of migrants bound for the Golden State. 


No. 346 


Gadwall 


A. O. U. No. 135. Chaulelasmus streperus (Linnzus). 

Synonym.—Gray Duck. 

Description.—Adult male: Head and upper neck buffy, spotted or streaked 
with dusky; top of head darker brownish; breast and lower neck all around dusky 
and white, each feather with five to eight concentric half-rings of alternating colors, 
presenting a handsomely scaled appearance; sides, back and scapulars similarly varied 
with dusky and white, buffy, or ochraceous-white, in semi-concentric, zigzag, or fine, 
wavy lines; the posterior inner scapulars, not thus marked, dull cinnamon-brown, 
darker centrally and edged with lighter, lanceolate; lower back dusky, becoming 
velvety black on upper tail-coverts and around on sides of crissum; middle wing- 
coverts bright chestnut; the lesser dull brownish gray, the greater velvety black; 
speculum white, rather narrowly, the outer secondaries black and dusky, the bounding 
tertials plain fuscous; belly white or grayish, obscurely barred posteriorly; under 


1758 


The Gadwall 


tail-coverts glossy black; the flanks heavily and finely barred dusky-and-white; axillars 
and lining of wings white. Bill blue-black; legs and feet dull orange, the webs dusky. 
Adult male in breeding season: ‘‘Similar to winter male, but colors duller, crown dusky, 
rump and breast tinged with rusty, and underparts more spotted with dusky”’ (Ridg- 
way). Adult female: Head and neck much as in adult male, but remaining plumage 
much more coarsely patterned; feathers brownish dusky with simple fulvous edgings; 
the scaling of flanks especially coarse; no black on tail-coverts; the black tips of greater 
coverts and the white speculum being the most “‘holding’’ characters. Length 482.6- 
558.8 (19.00-22.00); wing 269.2 (10.60); tail 114.3 (4.50); bill 42.4 (1.67); tarsus 40.6 
(1.60). Female smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Something under Mallard size; white speculum dis- 
tinctive; crissum (of male) abruptly black. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground near water or in meadows, of grasses lined 
with down. Down: Dark mouse-gray or dusky with whitish center. Eggs: 8 to 12; 
creamy white or pale yellowish gray. Av. size 53.1 x 39.9 (2.09 x 1.57). Season: 
c. June 10; one brood. 

General Range.—Northern Hemisphere, breeding north to Iceland and Scan- 
dinavia; south in winter to Abyssinia, India, China, and Mexico. In America breeding 
from southern British Columbia, central Alberta, and central Keewatin, south to south- 
ern Wisconsin, northern Nebraska, southern Colorado, and southern California; 
wintering south to southern Lower California, central Mexico and Florida. Accidental 
in Bermuda, Cuba, and Jamaica. 

Distribution in California.—Not common resident on fresh-water lakes and 
reservoirs and flooded lands. Breeds chiefly in the San Joaquin-Sacramento Valley 
and in the Modoc region. Has bred also at San Jacinto (Mystic) Lake in Riverside 
County. Numbers augmented during migrations and in winter with some coastwise 
movement. 

Authorities.—Woodhouse (Chaulelasmus strepera), Rep. Sitgreaves Exped. 
Col. R., 1853, p. 104 (common in Calif.); McAtee, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. 
Circular, no. 81, 1911, p. 1 (food); H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, p. 222. 


ALTHOUGH rated “nearly cosmopolitan” (A. O. U. Committee) 
and ‘“‘fairly common resident west of the Sierra Nevada’’ (Grinnell), 
the Gadwall is far from being one of the best known ducks. Especially 
is this the case in California, where it is probably the least known of the 
breeding Anatine. The reputation of scarcity, which a general lack of 
acquaintance gives to this bird, is due to several causes. In the first 
place, the birds are of a sober, rather nondescript appearance. The 
“recognition marks’’ have to be specially sought for even in the male. 
The birds seem to do nothing whatever out of the ordinary; and so they 
seem to travel, as it were, in the shadow of the better-known forms. 
And the Gadwall does not largely participate in the northern migrations 
The return movements of autumn, or late August, are early and rapid, 
and occur before the gunners are astir for ‘‘the season.” 

In habits the Gadwall most nearly resembles the Mallard. Like that 
bird it frequents the borders of marshes and weed-grown streams, where 


LSD. 


The Gadwall 


it feeds upon the leaves and roots of aquatic plants, which it obtains 
both by diving and dabbling. It is not averse to varying its diet by 
occasional insects and small fish, or it may resort to stubble-fields, by 
night, to obtain its share of the fallen grain. The Gadwall is at all times 
a clean feeder, and its flesh is highly prized for the table. 

The nesting of the Gadwall is a little later than that of the Mallard, 
taking place with usin May orearly June. Any weed-grown field or grassy 
stretch within a hundred yards of water is suitable, and the female displays 
great strategy in stealing to her eggs. A mere depression in the ground, 
well sheltered by over-arching vegetation, is all the bird asks at the outset, 
but as the deposition of eggs progresses, the duck adds grasses and soft 
vegetable materials of various sorts, until quite a respectable accumulation 
results. When the set is nearly complete, an abundance of dark gray 
down is plucked from the bird’s breast and distributed not only under 
the eggs but along the sides of the nest, so that when the mother is obliged 
to leave, a coverlet of down may be neatly and quickly drawn over the 
whole. This downy spread appears to serve a treble purpose; it both 
retains the natural warmth of the eggs and excludes the rays of the sun, 
which are over-ardent at times, and it effectually screens the eggs from 
observation. 

The bird’s behavior when surprised depends altogether upon the 
stage of incubation reached. In general, the bird sits close until dis- 
covered; after that, if the eggs are fresh, the duck may flee upon sighting 
her enemy a hundred yards away; but if the eggs are near hatching, she 
will endeavor to lead the investigator astray by painfully dragging 
herself through the grass. If too much harassed, however, she will desert 
her eggs outright rather than wait for what she regards as an inevitable 
doom; and the same remark will apply to almost any of the nesting ducks. 

Gadwalls’ eggs are of the creamy type, and thus closely resemble 
those of the American Wigeon; but are easily distinguishable from those 
of Shovellers, which have a greenish tinge. Complete sets vary from eight 
to thirteen, but eleven is the normal full clutch. 

Mr. Harold C. Bryant in his “Survey of the Breeding Grounds of 
Ducks in California in 1914” found nests of the Gadwall only at Los Bafios; 
and though he found four such nests he concluded: ‘‘We must consider 
this species as comparatively uncommon during the nesting season in 
this vicinity.” 


1760 


The Widgeons 


No. 347 


European Widgeon 


A. O. U. No. 136. Mareca penelope (Linnzus). 


Description.—Adult male: Similar to that of AZ. americana, but top of head 
buffy or creamy buff instead of white,—green wanting or showing only in traces; 
throat blackish; rest of head and neck rufous-brown (auburn). Adult female: Similar 
to that of MW. americana, but head and neck deeper ochraceous-buff or rusty. Size 
of americana. 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest and Eggs: Much as in 
M. americana. 


General Range.—Chiefly the Eastern Hemisphere, breeding northerly from 
Iceland to Kamschatka; wintering south to Abyssinia, India, China, and even Borneo. 
A casual visitor to various American localities, and coastwise to Florida and California. 


Occurrence in California.—An occasional winter visitor. Many records. 


Authorities.—Cooper, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 1868, p. 9 (San Francisco 
market); C. H. Townsend, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 491 (Eureka); Grinnell, Bryant and 
Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, p. 111 (desc., habits, occurrence, etc.); Colburn, Condor, 
vol. xxili., 1921, p. 65 (Guadalupe, Santa Barbara Co.). 


IN NO OTHER case within my knowledge has the gregarious in- 
stinct so betrayed the migration instinct, or led it to so many lapses, as 
in the case of the European Widgeon. The bird is not known to breed in 
America, nor even in Greenland, yet the map of the United States is 
peppered with record stations of its occurrence in winter and in migra- 
tions. There are a dozen such records for California, and the number is 
being steadily augmented. The marks of difference between penelope 
and americana are decided, and apparently unbridgeable, or we should 
begin to suspect reversion or dichroism, or some other obscure physical 
manifestation. We do not know where in the dim North the breeding 
range of our ducks overlaps that of penelope, nor where the wanderers 
run foul of our superior attractions. European Widgeons are like meteors 
in the sportsman’s firmament, and it is a pretty game to see who will bring 
in the next aerolite. 


No. 348 


Baldpate 


A. O. U. No. 137. Mareca americana (Gmelin). 
Synonyms.—AMERICAN WIDGEON. WIGEON. GREEN-HEADED WIGEON. 


Description.—Adult male: Head and neck white or light buffy, thickly speck- 
led, except on forehead and crown, with dusky; a space from eye along side of crown 


7701 


The Baldpate 


to occiput bright glossy green, the color scattering behind; fore-neck and upper breast, 
sides of breast broadly, and sides narrowly, deep vinaceous, edged more or less with 
hoary vinaceous; the sides with fine wavy bars; back and scapulars similar, black-and- 
white-barred, and heavily tinged with vinaceous; tertials lanceolate, velvety black, 
with greenish reflections on outer webs, and narrowly bordered on outer margin with 
gray and white; wing-coverts mostly white, the lesser brownish gray, the greater 
tipped with black; speculum dull black with green gloss only on anterior inner portion, 
the inner bounding feathers abruptly gray; rump cold brownish gray, lightening to 
grayish white on upper tail-coverts, both finely wavy-barred with dusky; tail tapering, 
the feathers sharply acuminate; the central feathers blackish, the lateral ones ashy 
gray; lower breast and belly white; crissum abruptly black; axillars white; lining of 
of wings white and brownish gray. Bill grayish dusky, blackening below and black 
on tip; feet dull grayish dusky; darker webbed. Old drakes have the extreme chin 
dusky, and are otherwise lighter about the bill, nearly immaculate on throat, and pure 
white on crown. Adult female: Without white or green on head,—uniformly streaked 
instead; vinaceous replaced by dull cinnamon-brown; obscurely mixed with dusky, 
and edged with brownish gray; above dusky or fuscous, barred or edged on back with 
dull ochraceous; wing-coverts grayish brown sharply edged with white; speculum and 
boundaries as in male; no solid black on upper tail-coverts and crissum,—fuscous or 
brownish and whitish instead. Length 457.2-558.8 (18.00-22.00); wing 266.7 (10.50); 
tail 76.2-114.3 (3.00-4.50); bill 38.1 (1.50); tarsus 39.6 (1.56). 

Recognition Marks.—Under Mallard size; white ‘“‘pate’’ and green head- 
patches of male; white of middle and greater wing-coverts; speculum diagnostic. Head 
not cinnamon-red, as distinguished from JV. penelope (H.). 


Nesting.— Nest: On the ground in meadow or near water; well constructed of 
grasses lined with feathers. Down: Dark mouse-gray or dusky with white centers. 
Eggs: 8 to 12; creamy white or pale yellowish gray. Av. size 55.1 x 38.8 (2.17 x 1.53). 
Season: c. June Ist; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds from northwestern Alaska and north- 
western Mackenzie east to central Keewatin, south to northern Indiana, southern 
Wisconsin, Kansas, Utah, and northern California; winters from Maryland and Dela- 
ware (casually to Massachusetts), southern Illinois, Arizona, and southern British 
Columbia, south to the West Indies, Costa Rica, and southern Lower California. 
Accidental in Hawaii and Europe. 

Distribution in Californias—Common winter resident, chiefly upon fresh 
water, throughout the State. Occurs also on shoal water bays and on brackish ponds. 
Sparingly resident in summer, at least in the Modoc region. 

Authorities.—Gambel, Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, i., 1849, p. 225 
(Calif.); Dawson, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 24 (Davis Creek, Modoc Co.; breeding). 


THERE ARE, roughly speaking, four ways of securing a practical 
acquaintance with any one of the more esteemed table ducks. Each 
method is limited, and the several ways must be pieced together if one 
would have anything like a complete knowledge of the species or an in- 
sight into duck psychology. The first way is the way of the sportsman. 
He will tell you that the Widgeon is best known by its lisping, throaty 
whistle, repeated three times in quick succession. This note is sur- 


1762 


The Baldpate 


prisingly light in character for the size of the bird, and serves, thus, to 
confirm the bird’s position next to the Teals upon our list. Although 
quite impossible to describe, the note is easily imitated by one who has 
heard it a few times, and its mastery forms a useful addition to the 
repertoire of the wild-fowl hunter. The only other “‘natural’’ note they 
utter is a low, short chattering, somewhat resembling that of the Pintail, 
but greatly reduced in volume. Their quacks, or squawks, of alarm also 
express the limit of terror, but they are still pathetically inadequate in 
comparison with those, say, of a hen Mallard. 


| 


Taken at Elkhorn, Monterey County Photo by the Author 
AMERICAN WIGEON, RISING SHARPLY 


According to Mr. Bowles: ‘“‘Widgeons are prime favorites with 
every sportsman, largely because they are so willing to come in and visit 
a few well-placed decoys. So sociable is the bird’s disposition that a lone 
Baldpate will often return to the decoys after several shots have been 
fired at him. Their bump of curiosity is also unquestionably developed 
to an abnormal extent, for I have crawled to within a couple of hundred 
yards of a flock and lured them up to within ten yards of me simply by 
lighting a pipe and puffing a cloud of smoke into the air at short intervals.” 

Widgeons are surface-feeding ducks, and obtain their food by 
dabbling and tipping either in pursuit of floating seeds or sluggish insects, 


1763 


The Baldpate 


or else through seizing the foliage of various water-weeds, among them 
“Widgeon grass’ (Ruppia maritima). But these birds have also built 
up a cleverer and less defensible system of foraging. With shameless 
effrontery they follow the diving operations of some of the more expert 
species of water-fowl, especially the Canvasbacks, Lesser Scaups, and 
Coots, and seize their winnings on the first moment of their victim's 
emergence. In this way they enjoy both ‘“‘sport’’ and booty, and the 
sapidity of their flesh is at least equal to that of their hard-working 
dupes. All this and very much more the sportsman can tell us. 

The second way to pursue the acquaintance of ducks is the way 
of the bird-student. Armed, of necessity, with a pair of high-powered 
binoculars, he spies upon the ducks as they gather along the shores of 
some protected lagoon, preening and snoozing and gabbling by turns, 
or else as they huddle apprehensively toward the center of some less 
certainly protected lake or reservoir, heads up, and peeping appre- 
hensively. The student has a pained consciousness that he is sitting 
at the second table, so far as knowledge of the ducks is concerned, and 
that through no fault of his the birds are behaving in a strained or artificial 


Taken in Modoc County Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF AMERICAN WIGEON 


1704 


The Baldpate 


manner. The knowledge thus gained is manifestly far from satisfying. 

The third method, if I may call it such under its myriad fashions, 
is to cultivate, deliberately, the good will of the duck, to put him at his 
ease, and to provide for his creature comforts to the extent that he will 
come to act with perfect naturalness. Needless to say, this can be se- 
cured only by absolute protection, that is, the establishment of reserves 
and sanctuaries. And if to this negative assistance be added some 
method of feeding, a regular distribution of grain or table scraps, or, 
better still, the planting along water-courses or over the shallows of 
plants esteemed by the ducks as food, the confidence, the freedom of 
action, the vivacious and playful behavior which may be secured on the 
part of the ducks will be gratifying in the extreme. 

Needless to say, also, a combination of the first and third methods 
is perfectly legitimate. The establishment of game farms and the 
utilization of our waste places, such as brackish lagoons and the interior 
lakes, for wild fowl propagation, will one day have to supplant our present 
wasteful policy of haphazard breeding and privileged shooting. 

The fourth method, or opportunity, for bird study is to be found only 
upon the breeding grounds of the ducks. This is, however, by no means 
the place of privilege that it is in the case of most other birds. The 
ducks know how to be very secretive in their movements in connection 
with nest-building and incubation, as well as in their care of young. 
Again, the bird student must accept the role of spy, and content himself 
with scraps of information laboriously gleaned. Thus, he will learn 
of the Widgeon that the female seeks a grassy or weed-crowded area not 
too far from water. The first egg is deposited upon the surface of the 
ground or in some slight natural depression. As the number of eggs 
increases she begins to gather bits of dead grass or macerated weed- 
stalks for a scanty lining. The chief interest, however, is in the securing 
of abundant food, and in enjoying the company of the handsome drake, 
who is very attentive at this season. When the egg complement is 
reached, eight or ten or twelve, or whatever it may be, her breast is 
plucked of its down to provide a copious lining and blanket. The male 
is banished so thoroughly that he hunts up his similarly exiled fellows 
and goes in for club life; while his late spouse settles to the long vigil 
which is at once the tenderest, the most pathetic, and the most useful 
of nature’s offices. Four weeks of tense concentration, relieved only by 
surreptitious visits to the feeding grounds—an hour or so thus spent 
out of twenty-four—four weeks of harrowing anxiety relative to blun- 
dering foot-steps, whether of man or ox, or of far more purposeful patter 
of light foot-falls, guided by sharp noses and urged by sharper teeth, 
of weasel, mink, coyote, or raccoon. All these dangers survived, the 


1705 


The European Teal 


miracle of patience discloses that twinned and ineffable miracle of birth. 
A dozen offspring in a day, or so we say. Anyhow, the youngsters 
start even, and I only wish we had time, or skill, to follow them through 
that wonderland of adventurous youth. 


No. 349 


European Teal 


A. O. U. No. 138. Nettion crecca (Linnzus). 

Description.—Adult male: Much like that of succeeding species, but lacking 
white crescent on side of breast; bordering white along green patch of head more 
decided; vermiculation of sides, etc., broader and coarser; the outer scapulars buffy, 
bordered with black on the outer edge. Female indistinguishable from that of 
N. carolinense. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest and Eggs: Indistinguishable 
from those of JN. carolinense. 


General Range.—Northern Europe and northern Asia; wintering south to 
Arabia, Ceylon, and China. Casual in Greenland and along the Atlantic coast of 
North America. 


Occurrence in California.—Recognition based solely on Cooper’s statement 
(Auk, vol. iii., p. 125, confirming Proc. Calif. Acad. Nat. Sci., 1868, vol. iv.): ‘‘Also 
found not rarely in California.” 


THE DUCKS are good neighbors and ‘“‘wings across the sea’’ was 
their motto long before we got chummy with John Bull. Our birds have 
been returning the visits made by Mareca penelope and Nettion crecca; 
so that the names of Mareca americana and Nettion carolinense and 
Querquedula discors, distinguished Americans all, appear on both English 
and Continental guest books. 

Concerning the visits of N. crecca, we have only the assertion of 
Dr. Cooper! that it was ‘‘also found not rarely in California,”” and the 
surmise of Belding? that it may have bred in the Stockton marshes. 
Concerning the latter supposition we may say that no comparable 
instance of a bird’s breeding thousands of miles from its proper haunt 
is on record. It is probably a case of mistaken identity, apropos of 
which may be quoted the remark of the English authority, Howard 
Saunders. Under the caption of ‘“‘The American Green-winged Teal,” 
he says: ‘“‘The female so closely resembles that of our Teal [i. e. Nettion 
crecca| that I am unable to give any specific characters.”’ 


1Auk, Vol. III., Jan. 1886, p. 125. 
*Pac. Coast Avifauna, No. 11, p. 33, 1915. 
$’Manual of British Birds, p. 433. 


7706 


vouv[g PuNnSeyT uo udye T, 


4oysn ayy q ydvibopoyg v wot 
d[PUIIY ‘[VIJ, PoOsuLM-UddI) JO JIeIJOT 


The Green-winged Teal 


No. 350 


Green-winged Teal 


A. O. U. No. 139. Nettion carolinense (Gmelin). 
Synonyms.—AMERICAN GREEN-WINGED TEAL. GREEN-WING. 


Description.—Adult male: Head and upper neck bright chestnut, blackening 
on chin; darker on forehead and crown, with a glossy green patch from and including 
eye to nape, usually separated from chestnut below by a narrow white line which is 
sometimes traceable to bill; a short occipital crest velvety purplish black; a crescentic 
white patch on side of breast before wing; sides of breast and sides, back, and scapulars 
continuous with narrow cervical collar, black and white in fine wavy bars or vermicu- 
lations; fore-neck and breast brownish buff, fading to silky white or buffy on belly, heavily 
marked anteriorly with round spots, more or less concealed, or not, according to age 
and season (?); wing-coverts, inter-scapulars, tertiaries, rump, and posterior parts, 
slaty gray or fuscous with an olivaceous or ochraceous tinge; speculum shining green, 
velvety purplish black on outer feathers, bounded in front by chestnut or fawn tips of 
greater coverts, behind narrowly by white, and on inner margin by abrupt black of 
outer tertiary; crissum velvety purplish black with a partially enclosed creamy or buff 
patch on either side. Bill livid black; feet and legs dusky bluish; iris brown. Adult 
female: Speculum substantially as in male; no other trace of pattern of male save 
white patch on side of crissum; upperparts brownish dusky, tinged with greenish and 
edged with lighter; head and neck dusky brown, streaked with ochraceous above, 
elsewhere pale buffy, speckled with dusky; breast and sides brownish dusky, ochraceous- 
brown, and whitish, the former in crescentic and U-shaped markings, and the whole 
suffused with brownish buffy; belly and crissum pale buffy or brownish buffy, obscurely 
spotted and streaked with darker. Length 317.5-381 (12.50-15.00); av. of six males: 
wing 179.8 (7.08); tail 66.8 (2.63); bill 37.6 (1.48); tarsus 30.2 (1.19). 

Recognition Marks.—The smallest duck; chestnut and green head of male; 
black and shining green speculum, with size, distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground, of weeds and grasses, lined with feathers 
and down. Eggs: 6 to 8, rarely 10 to 12; dull creamy white, pale grayish yellow, or 
greenish buff. Av. size 45 x 32.3 (1.77 x 1.27). Season: c. June Ist; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds from the western Arctic coast, 
central Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south through the eastern Canadian Provinces 
to northern Illinois, Nebraska, northern New Mexico, and southern California. Win- 
ters from the Aleutian Islands and across the continent from the southern edge of the 
ice-line south to the West Indies, Honduras, and Lower California. Accidental in the 
British Isles, Bermuda, Greenland, and Hawaii. 

Distribution in California»—Common during migrations and in winter, 
chiefly upon fresh water. Breeds very sparingly and locally. Recorded as a breeder 
from Ventura County (Evermann), Kings County (Tulare Lake, Goldman), Alameda 
County (Alvarado, Dirks), and Plumas County (Sierra Valley, Belding). Also Davis 
Creek, Modoc County, June, 1912. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Querquedula carolinense), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
ser. 2, i., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); Evermann, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 89 (Ventura Co., nest- 
ing); Goldman, Condor, vol. x., 1908, p. 129 (Tulare Lake, nesting). 


1707 


The Green-winged Teal 


THE RARE beauty of this diminutive duck is not likely to escape 
notice, and its flesh has received a correspondingly high rating, even 
though it does take two birds on a single plate to provide a meal for a 
hungry man. Although no longer common, the Green-wing is probably 
still the best distributed of any of the California ducks. Its requirements 
of space and fare are so modest that it may be found upon all the smaller 
creeks and ponds, irrigating ditches even. Normally these ducks are 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
LADY GREENWING 


highly gregarious, and the quick evolutions of a close-set flock of, say, 
fifty birds, form a spectacle to make men marvel. Not the best of our 
aerial circuses will ever attain such flexibility or precision of action. 
Long persecution, however, has scattered the ancient hordes, and strongly 
discouraged the flocking tendency. Twos and threes and half dozens 
are a common sight, and their continued pursuit falls to the farmer boy 
rather than to the clubman. 

The Green-winged Teal obtains its food not alone by tipping and 
dabbling, but by agile search on foot. The bird walks with ease and 
grace, and fallen seeds, nuts, grain, rice, berries, and acorns are as eagerly 
sought as are the worms and snails of the lesser mud-flats. 

The call-note of the Teal is a miniature “‘quack’’ with a whistling 
quality, and it is probably uttered only by the female. Whatever 
be the case with the human species—and now that suffrage is an ac- 
complished fact, we are less bold than in some of our former allegations— 
it is unquestionable that the duck ladies have practically usurped the 


7708 


The Blue-winged Teal 


powers of speech, and have thus reduced their titular lords to the most 
abject state of acquiescence. 

Astonishing accounts continue to come in of the Green-winged Teal 
as a breeding bird of California. It does not breed in any considerable 
numbers in the states to northward of us, but the evidence seems to be 
conclusive that the species does breed with us, and that in widely scat- 
tered and most unlikely localities. Dr. Evermann’s record appears to 
be the first, and he simply states! that a few breed in Ventura County. 
Mr. E. A. Goldman made the first specific report? of a set of seven eggs 
taken, with the female, July 7th, 1907, on the west shore of Tulare Lake. 
He found other birds near by and judged that there might be quite a 
colony of them. Later, Mr. W. N. Dirks’ found the species breeding 
commonly on the salt marshes near Alvarado, in Alameda County. 
Six specific records were made there in the summer of 1915, and several 
sets of eggs taken in May hatched out Green-wings at the State Game 
Farm near Hayward. 


No. 351 


Blue-winged Teal 


A. O. U. No. 140. Querquedula discors (Linnzus). 


Description.—Adult male: Forehead and crown (narrowly) and region about 
base of bill bright blackish; a large white crescent on side of face before eye; rest of 
head and upper neck warm plumbeous, with metallic, wine-purple reflections (like the 
plumage of certain doves); fore-neck and entire underparts to crissum, including 
lengthened feathers of sides (nearly meeting across back when wings are folded) pur- 
plish vinaceous or purplish chestnut, heaviest on breast, paling laterally, spotted on crop 
and sides, and barred on breast, belly, and longer flank feathers, with blackish; upper back 
and scapulars greenish fuscous, with narrow and elongated V-shaped markings of vina- 
ceous-cinnamon; inner scapulars and tertiaries, narrow and elongated, greenish dusky, 
striped with vinaceous-cinnamon; lower back and behind nearly plain dusky; crissum and 
tail externally blackish; flanks white; wing-coverts and outer webs of outer scapulars and 
tertiaries a beautiful light grayish blue; speculum shining bronzy green (not so bright 
as in Nettion carolinense, more ‘‘sickly’’) with dusky on either side, and bordered in 
front by broad white tips of greater coverts; axillars and lining of wings mostly white. 
Bill grayish black; feet dingy yellow with dusky webs and claws; iris brown. Adult 
female (and male in summer): Wing substantially as before, or greater coverts not so 
extensively white-tipped; no other indication of prime pattern; head, neck, and under- 
parts dull buffy or pale brownish buff; the first two finely streaked, save on chin and 
upper throat, the last variously spotted and marked with dusky, lightening on belly; 
back and scapulars brownish dusky, blackening on longer feathers, narrowly edged with 

1Auk, Vol. III., Jan. 1886, p. 89. 


2Condor, Vol. X., p. 129. 
*Cal. Fish and Game, Vol. 2, No. 1 ,p. 46. 


7769 


The Blue-winged Teal 


light brownish. Young: “Similar to adult female, but whole belly immaculate, and 
speculum dull grayish brown without metallic gloss’ (Ridgw.). Length 368.3-406.4 
(14.50-16.00); av. of six males: wing 186.4 (7.34); tail 66 (2.60); bill 40.6 (1.60); tarsus 
30.5 (1.20). 

Recognition Marks.—‘‘Teal’’ size; white facial crescent of male; grayish blue 
wing-coverts distinctive (except from Q. c. cyanoptera, which is otherwise quite different). 

Nesting.— Nest: Of grasses, etc., lined with down; on the ground usually near 
fresh water. Eggs: 6 to 12; pale creamy or dull ivory-yellow with a tinge of green. 
Av. size 45.7 x 32.5 (1.80 x 1.28). Season: c. June Ist; one brood. 

General Range.—North and South America. Breeds from British Columbia, 
Great Slave Lake, Ungava, and Newfoundland, south sparingly to New England and 
the northern tier of eastern states, southern Indiana, Missouri, northern New Mexico, 
and northeastern California. Winters from British Columbia, southern Illinois, and 
Delaware south to West Indies, and in South America to Chile and Brazil. 


Occurrence in California.—Not common migrant and winter visitor. The 
“fall’’ migrations occur very early and so escape the notice of sportsmen; e. g., Santa 
Barbara, Aug. 25, 1915, flock of 20. Sparingly resident in summer east of the Sierra 
Nevada (Laws, northern Inyo County, May 21, 1919—unquestionably breeding). 

Authorities.—Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1891, p. 97 (Stockton, San Diego, and 
Agua Caliente); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 23 (occurrence in s. Calif.) ; 
Dawson, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 24 (Santa Barbara). 


THE PRESENCE of this species, justly accounted one of the rarer 
ducks of California, upon Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park, in November, 
1910, served to emphasize the fact that opportunity with the birds, and 
especially with water-birds, is purely a matter of the degree of protection 
afforded them. If protection were absolute, so that the birds did not 
even have to fear clubs in treacherous hands, nine-tenths of our wild 
ducks could be taught to eat out of our fingers within three years. If you 
are skeptical, visit Stow Lake, in the heart of San Francisco. 

Stow “‘Lake”’ is little better than a wide canal surrounding a circular 
hill. In the two widest places, certain portions toward the outer shore 
are fenced off and forbidden to boats. <A tiny wooded island in each in- 
stance gives shelter to the shyest birds, which lurk under the overhanging 
draperies. Boats are allowed on the remainder of the lake’s surface, and 
the ubiquitous small boy throws stones as usual, but in spite of these 
little disadvantages the birds thrive mightily. There are swans on the 
lake, and geese of five varieties, of which four, viz., Hutchins, Cackling, 
American White-fronted, and the Lesser Snow Goose, are of wild stock. 
These are all, | suppose, wing-tipped birds, and they act in a measure as 
decoys. There is no doubt, however, of the feral character of the rest of 
the bird population. Ducks are constantly arriving from the ocean a 
mile or so away, while others, resenting the near approach of pleasure 
boats to which they are not yet quite accustomed, make off in alarm. 


1770 


The Blue-winged Teal 


My first glimpse of Stow Lake was on a Saturday in November, Ig1o. 
In the southwestern corner of the watery circle, in the shelter of the little 
island, a dozen Mallards and as many Widgeons submitted, rather un- 
comfortably, to inspection. Aided by a passing boat on the other side, 
I passed within twenty feet of a nervous bunch which included one 
American Golden-eye; but when I returned with the camera a few mo- 
ments later, they made off as one bird. 

The Coots, or ““Mud Hens,” were as tame as “‘chickens.”’ They 
swarmed over the banks in search of bugs, or plucked grass like geese, or 
fought for crumbs under the very feet of the passerby. Their abundance 
and fearlessness appeared to exert a restraining influence on the wild 
ducks, with which, of course, they freely mingled. 

It was at the eastern end of the lake, however, that the ducks really 
congregated. Here there were at no time less than a hundred ducks of 
some ten species, exclusive of coots and semi-domesticated geese; yet 
their number and complexion was continually changing. Here, on the 
19th of November, I saw a little company of Blue-winged Teals, along 
with Widgeons, Mallards, Pintails, Shovellers, both the Scaups (Greater 
and Lesser), American Golden-eye, Bufflehead and Ruddy Ducks. 

Curious to note what effect the Sunday crowds would have upon 
bird-life, I returned the following afternoon. The object lesson of pro- 
tection was even more striking; for while there were as many ducks in 
evidence as on the previous day, people were at least ten times as nu- 
merous. Atone time I counted 145 ducks of eight species upon the east 
arm of the lake, all within a stone’s throw of shore, where over a hundred 
people surrounded them. Their retreat, furthermore, was cut off by six 
passing boatloads of merrymakers in the channel. Yet here the wild 
ducks came by preference, and while the bolder of their numbers crowded 
the bread-line just offshore, the more timid tucked head under wing and 
slept, thankful to have escaped the grilling gun-fire to which other humans, 
just like these (?), had been subjecting them over thousands of acres of 
marsh lands. 

Five other smaller lakes to the westward in this same park also con- 
tained ducks and coots in varying quantities. The Mallards were shyest 
and most ill at ease wherever seen, and they were found in greatest num- 
bers in a neglected pond half grown up to willows. One shallow, open 
lake, with no protection of shrubbery whatever, was in great demand as a 
“playground,” or rather, mimic sea, for children’s boats. Half a dozen 
miniature yachts under full sail were plying these waters, yet seventy Rud- 
dy Ducks (Erismatura jamaicensis) occupied the center of the pond, and 
seemed to exhibit no fear of the toy boats. Wherefore, it 1s safe to say 
that if the public was really trustworthy, so that not even the small boys 


HGyple 


The Cinnamon Teal 


would shy stones or say “Shoo” to the birds, the wildest ducks would 
soon be so reassured that they would eat out of our hands. 


No. 352 
Cinnamon Teal 


A. O. U. No. 141. Querquedula cyanoptera cyanoptera (Vieillot). 

Synonym.—RED-BREASTED TEAL. 

Description.—Adult male: Entire plumage, except back and wings, rich 
chestnut or bay; darker, blackish brown, on crown and on belly; darkest, almost black, 
on crissum; back and inner scapulars warm dusky, margined with cinnamon or lighter; 
inner and middle wing-coverts (the latter overlapping and nearly concealing the greater 
coverts), and the outer webs of outer scapulars and tertials beautiful light grayish blue 
(Columbian blue); speculum lustrous green, bounded on sides by dusky, and in front, 
only in part, by white tips of greater coverts; axillars white; under wing-coverts white 
and dusky. Bill black; feet and legs orange; iris orange. Adult female (and male in 
post-nuptial plumage): Similar to corresponding plumage of Q. discors, but darker; 
more of the throat and sometimes chin speckled; breast tinged with tawny; averaging 
larger. Length 393.7-431.8 (15.50-17.00); wing 189.2 (7.45); tail 73.7 (2.90); bill 
45.7 (1.80); tarsus 33.5 (1.32). 

Recognition Marks.—Large teal size; heavy chestnut coloration of male dis- 
tinctive. Females and young require careful discrimination from Q. discors (see above). 

Nesting.— Nest: In grass or heavy weeds near water; of grass and scanty 
trash, copiously lined with down. Down: Dusky with white centers. Eggs: 8 to 13, 
usually 10 or 11; pale creamy or dull grayish yellow (ivory-yellow to cartridge-buff), 
smooth “‘oily’’ surface. Av. size 47.5 x 34.5 (1.87 x 1.36). Season: April 20-June; 
one brood. 

Range of Querquedula cyanopteran—North and South America. In North 
America, from the western provinces of Canada south to Mexico. In South America, 
from the Straits of Magellan and the Falkland Islands north to Peru and Brazil. 

Range of Q. c. cyanoptera—Western North America. Breeds from southern 
British Columbia and southwestern Alberta, southeastern Wyoming, and western 
Kansas, south to western Texas, New Mexico, Chihuahua, and northern Lower Cali- 
fornia. Winters from southern California, New Mexico, and southern Texas, south 
through Lower California and to central Mexico. Casual at many eastern points. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant spring and fall migrant and common 
summer resident on fresh water practically throughout the State. Sparingly resident 
in winter at widely separated localities, chiefly in the central valley and in the San 
Diegan district. Of infallible occurrence at Santa Barbara throughout the year. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Pterocyanea discors), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
2, 1., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, pp. 222,227, 231 
(nest and eggs, etc.); Stephens, Condor, vol. xxiii., 1921, p. 194 (eclipse plumage). 


IF THE BIRD-LOVER confesses a somewhat languid interest in 
the old standbys of duckdom, Mallard, Widgeon, Shoveller, and the rest, 
the species which have quacked and spattered their way through literature 


17/2 


waned aby stemes or say “Shoo” to the birds, the wildest ducks would 
doc: HR w reassured that they would eat out of our hands. 


No. 352 


Cinnamon Teal 


Su. 23, Sbwerquedula cyanoptera cyanoptera (Vieillot). 
ioe nKer eo TRAL. 
ig eutle: Wntire plumage, except. back and wings, rich 
Apart har kdels brews on crown and on belly; darkest, almost black, 
arm warm dusky, margined with cinnamon or lighter; 
sis igue tarver overlapping and nearly concealing the greater 
so) cater Scapulars and tertials beautiful light grayish blue 
ous areen, bounded on sides by dusky, and in front, 
vor coverts; astlars white; under wing-coverts white 
vs ceange; iis orange. Adult female (and male mM 
jer te gorcesponding plumage of Q, discors, but darker; 
ix <pechied: breast tinged with tawny; averaging 
(42 gu 16.00 wing 789.2 (7,45); fall 737 (2.90); bill 
i 


ne” 


; a ei oy 3S 
Rare RAR Ne oe ave, heavy chestnut coloration of male’ dis- = 
Pacctedars - Save BR PUR POSNTE gsi diserimination from Q. discors (see above). 
Westiaes-- Meet) ba Qiaes 3 Faty weeds near water, of grass and scanty 
ints’ iapetea sendy Lagan 4W Se) Bh aees, an o= Desky with white centers. Eggs: 3to13,- 
4 + ne BG BraSish yellow (ivory-yellow to cartridge-buff), 


out 
ng 


= (1.85 x 2.36). Season: April 20-June; 


“North and South America. In North 
yada south to Mexico. Tn South America, 
ik¥and Tslantds north to Peru and Brazil. 
i : ten North America. Breeds from southern 
Snvetern SHBria, southeastern Wyoming, and western 
NewS Sdco, Chihuahua, and northern Lower Cali- 
Ualifarnis. New Mexico, and southern Texas, south 
entra Mexico. Casual at many eastern points. 
—Almadant spring and fall migrant and common sik 
Sealy throughout the State. Sparingly resident 
ex, chieRy in the central valley and in the San 
» ai Santa Barbara throughout the year. 
vece diseors), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
hrseat, Condor: Vol. Vay 1914, DP. 2227-227 2au 
pice Keb asi, FO2T, py 194 (eclipse plumage), 


e 


or painti 


Oe tei 
nd 
ere 


ale a 


Wot 


Re 


me 


{Q?.jAPLER vonfesses a somewhat languid interest in 
f &nkikewn, Matlard. Widgeon, Shoveller, and’ the rest, | 57 
os qiaacked and spattered their way through literature 


rar 


Re ; On ss 


RS te Wiad es 


The Cinnamon Teal 


Taken on Big Bear Lake Photo by Wright M. Pierce 
A CALIFORNIA NEST 


for generations, it is a far different matter with our champion of the West. 
For him we are not ashamed to confess a fresh interest and a kindling 
of desire. Whether our attitude be that of sportsman, bird-lover or 
student, surely no more alluring spectacle could be afforded than that of 
a flock of these brilliant chestnut-colored ducks when they rise suddenly 
from a wayside pond at break of day. It is as though fragments of the 
rich red earth, from which we are all made, had been startled by the 
impact of the sun’s rays upon the water, and were fleeing toward heaven 
—earth, air, fire, and water, all in one burst of momentary splendor. 

It is only idle folk, however, who can afford finery, and since it is the 
drake who has nothing to do, he wears all the fine clothes. The female, 
save for her blue-gray wing-patches, is the plainest-looking body imagi- 
nable, and she so closely resembles the female of Q. discors, that we 
seriously wonder if their own mates can always distinguish them. I 
have seen Blue-wings and Cinnamons associating together during the 
mating season, and the males appeared to regard each other with jealousy, 
as though they really feared confusion of brides. 

A favorite play on the part of these Teal at mating time is leap-frog. 
A bird will vault into the air and pass over another’s head and down 


1773 


The Cinnamon Teal 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
A RAGTIME DUET 


CINNAMON TEAL, DRAKE AND DUCK 


again with a great splash; whereupon the other, as likely as not, will 
return the compliment. This passage occurs oftenest between two males, 
and does not appear to have any unfriendly motive. When the fortunes 
of the ensuing season are being decided, the ducks become very much 
absorbed in their business. At such a time I once stole up through the 
reeds, where, upon a little ‘“‘two by four” pond, I could survey six or eight 
Cinnamon Teal disporting themselves and indulging in courting antics. 
A male would follow about very closely after his intended, and bob his 
head by alternately extending and withdrawing his neck in a very lively 
fashion. Now and then the female would make some slight acknowledg- 
ment in the same kind. In at least one instance I witnessed a decisive 
moment; for, from pretended indifference in the presence of her suitor, 
a duck suddenly responded to his long bobs of invitation by bobs of 
approval, equally emphatic, and given face to face; and immediately 
thereafter she seconded the favored swain in his efforts to drive off dis- 
credited rivals. The males were charging upon each other repeatedly 
with open beaks, but it is hard to believe that they either would or could 
do each other bodily harm. 

The Cinnamon Teal is the commonest breeding duck in California, 
and its nests probably outnumber those of all other species combined. 
Where cattails abound, the birds sometimes weave an elevated basket or 
platform of reeds, after the fashion of the Coot or Redhead. On occasion, 


1774 


The Cinnamon Teal 


also, they profit by the handiwork of the Redhead, either sharing quarters 
with the rightful owner, or endeavoring to dispossess her after her basket 
is woven. But for the most part, this Teal nests on the dry ground where 
the grass or herbage is thick, and not too far removed from water. Mead- 
owlands and marshy ‘“‘swales’”’ are, therefore, favorite places, and the 
gathering of the hay crop is always attended by anxiety and loss on the 


part of these birds. 

Any collector will come upon 
these lowly nests in the course of a 
few hours’ tramping, but if one wishes 
to hasten operations a little, or to 
arrive at a knowledge of general 
conditions prevailing, the method 
of dragging must be used. This is 
accomplished by two workers, each 
holding the end of a long rope and 
sweeping it slowly over the grass or 
weed-tops. The bird flies from un- 
der the rope in great terror, but she 
is never, in our experience, so fright- 
ened that she will not return. It is 
only by the use of some such whole- 
sale method that one may discover 
the high proportion of loss due to the 
depredations of “‘vermin,’’—minks, 
weasels, coyotes, and other four- 
footed offenders. I once knew of 
some semi-wild hogs which had 
formed an incurable habit of robbing 
ducks’ nests. Swimming with ease 
and “hiding out’’ upon the islands 
through the day, these renegades 
would sally forth at night upon their 
nefarious quest; and they wrought 
with almost infallible precision in the 


ravaging of the breeding ducks of the 4 f 


Los Banos country that season. 

These and countless other dan- 
gers threatened serve to develop in 
the nesting Teal a nearly correspond- 
ing measure of sagacity. Two in- 
stances of this evolution of intelli- 
gence may not be amiss. 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF CINNAMON TEAL 


1775 


The Cinnamon Teal 


Taken at Los Banos Photo by the Author 
CINNAMON TEALS JUST HATCHED 

Two helpers of mine had been dragging a grassy stretch along the 
shore of Goose Lake in Modoc County, while I plodded after to mark 
the flushing birds. But the region was not prolific. Disgusted at last 
with the profitless quest, | gave my consent to a cessation of activities. 
The work stopped. One of the assistants coiled the rope carefully and 
plumped it down in the grass. This was too much for the Teal’s nerves, 
and she flushed from her nest not above three feet from where the men 
were standing. The nest was in a coarse uniform grass, well lined with 
down, and about forty feet from the shore of the lake. 

Not wishing to collect the eggs at once, and fearing that something 
might befall them in our absence, I| laid half a dozen long sticks, culled 
from the beach, across the nest, and saw to it that they formed an effec- 
tive barrier. Judge of my surprise, then, when upon returning two hours 
later the Teal flushed from her eggs at one side of the sticks. I mar- 
veled that she should have been strong enough to remove the sticks so 


1776 


The Cinnamon Teal 


dextrously. And I marveled yet more, when I came to remove the nest- 
lining, to find it so scanty. In scratching around, however, to secure 
every scrap, I was led to the old nesting hollow under the sticks, which 
was now overflowing with disturbed nest material. The clever bird had 
made a new hollow just beside the old one, and had abstracted her eggs 
one by one from the danger zone, until her complement was full. No 
doubt, in due time, she would have made use of the forsaken lining also. 

The other case was of a bird whose nest we had discovered near camp 
at Los Bafios. There were eleven eggs, and since they were hard set, 
we dedicated them to posterity and photography. Photography fared 
ill, however, for when the sitting female found herself increasingly ex- 
posed to view by sundry decapitations of surrounding weed-stalks and 
removal of investing grasses, she became more and more easily frightened, 
so that we could do nothing with her. 

Now the nest was placed at no great distance from a pond, in which 
the flood waters of the Mendota Canal were increasing daily. On the 
morning of the 29th of May we saw that the rising water had surrounded 
the little mother in her pocket of wire-grass, and that the bottom of the 
nest was damp. But, glory be! One of the eggs is pipped, so that she 
may be able to make it yet. Returning at eventide from our day’s work, 
we approached the nest in some trepidation, and William exclaimed, 
“Why! What has become of the down?’ Sure enough, the downy 
walls, with which the nest had been so lavishly provided, were missing. 
The resourceful mother had used all of the down and a lot of grass be- 
sides, in building up the foundations of the nest, and had in this manner 
succeeded in raising the eggs clear of the water. 

The following morning the eggs were hatched, or all save one, and 
the nest was full of fluffy, confiding, yellow-and-dusky ducklings. They 
were not only delightful to the eye but irresistible to the hand or the nose, 
which, even if well educated, still delights to nuzzle “‘downies.’”’ The 
mother made off with elaborate maladies, but she did not again put in 
an appearance while we were photographing the brood. Presuming that 
this would be our only chance, we completed the “‘sittings’’ and absented 
ourselves for an hour or two. When we returned, the nest held only 
five babies, presumably the younger and weaker members of the brood, 
which, although very bright-eyed and confident, we surveyed with some 
misgiving. Upon our return eight hours later, or at early evening, the 
same five awaited us. They looked a little less confident now, and we 
were troubled. It was all too evident to us that the timorous mother 
had alighted at a distance after our first visit, and had led away only 
those who were strong enough to answer her call, leaving the others to 
their fate. 


LUG 


The Shoveller 


Later in the evening, well after nightfall in fact, we went to visit 
the nest again, determined to play the part of foster mother if a kinder 
providence had not intervened. But the nest was empty. The poor 
little waifs had set out at nightfall to seek for themselves their long absent 
parent. Their plaintive, scattered pipings resounded throughout that 
section of the swamp, but we could not recover one in the darkness, and 
of a repentant mother there was no sign. The next day all was still. 
The prowlers of the night tell no tales. The little tragedy was over. 
Nothing more was ever seen of the faint-hearted Teal mother and her 
half-brood. Instinct broke down before the unusual; and the gleam 
of intelligence shown in meeting the challenge of the flood did not serve 
to illuminate the darkness of a mentality which could not count its own 
children. 

We call the Cinnamon Teal our bird; but if we do, we forget that 
there is in South America another branch, or race, or geographical repre- 
sentative, of the same stock. So far as known, the “‘species-splitters”’ 
have not succeeded in detecting any valid distinction between the Cin- 
namon Teal of South America and that of North America,! yet the centers 
of the breeding ranges of the two groups lie some 5000 miles apart, the 
one in the Pacific States of America and the other in Patagonia; and at 
no time do the sundered fragments drift closer than within about 2000 
miles of each other. It is a situation without an exact parallel, and we 
are, naturally, very curious to know what might have happened in the 
pre-glacial past to divide the house of Q. cyanoptera. 


No. 353 


Shoveller 


A. O. U. No. 142. Spatula clypeata (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—SpoonBiILL. SPoon-BILL Duck. BROAD-BILL. 

Description.—Adult male: Head and neck sooty black, overlaid, especially 
above, with glossy green and glancing metallic blue or purple; lower neck and fore- 
breast pure white; lower breast, belly, and sides purplish chestnut, the longer side- 
feathers dusky-barred; back, narrowly, greenish dusky, becoming greenish black on 
rump and behind, and glossy green on sides of upper tail-coverts; crissum black, 
separated from belly anteriorly by white, finely undulated with dusky; white flank- 
patches; inner scapulars white, and inner tertiaries white-striped; wing-coverts and 
outer webs of outer tertiaries light grayish blue; the posterior row of coverts greenish dusky 
at base, broadly white-tipped; speculum glossy green bounded on either side by dusky; 
primaries dusky; axillars and lining of wings white. Bill spatulate, the upper mandible 


l1Later: They got ‘em at last! 


1778 


ak AMWAY ® 


ety. 7 


jhyokoweers 


ee Ce sk ali 


ee 


iit ie ‘i 
peer 


Behind the Screen 
A small “mill” of Shovellers, all very intent on breakfast 


From a photograph by the Author 


‘Taken on Laguna Blanca 


The Shoveller 


much broader at tip than lower and enclosing it; lamella prominent, deep black; feet 
orange-red; iris brown. Adult female: Wings much as in male, but duller; scapulars 
like back, and tertiaries not striped; upperparts, except head and neck, plain fuscous 
glossed posteriorly with greenish; remaining plumage buffy or buffy white, spotted with 
brownish fuscous; head and neck narrowly streaked with dusky; lower breast tinged 
with brownish. Bill brown above, orange below. Young male: Like adult female 
but colors heavier, and belly tinged with chestnut. Young female: Similar to adult 
but wing-coverts dull slaty gray, only faintly tinged with bluish or greenish; speculum 
not so extensively glossy green. Length 431.8-533.4 (17.00-21.00); wing 228.6-254 
(9.00-10.00); tail 76.2-88.9 (3.00-3.50); culmen 63.5-73.7 (2.50-2.90); breadth of bill 
near tip 30.5 (1.20); tarsus 38.1 (1.50). 

Recognition Marks.—Smaller than Mallard; bill broadened at tip distinctive; 
male with white breast and rich chestnut belly. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground in meadow or near marsh, lined with weed- 
stalks and grasses, or broken reeds and down. Down: Dark mouse-gray or dusky, 
with whitish centers. Eggs: 6 to 10; light greenish gray (yellowish glaucous). Av. 
size 53.9 x 37-6 (2.12 x 1.48). Season: May-June; one brood. 

General Range.—Northern Hemisphere, breeding north to about Latitude 
68°: south in winter to central Africa, Ceylon, Formosa, and Colombia. In America, 
breeds chiefly westerly from northwestern Alaska, northwestern Mackenzie, and south- 
ern Keewatin, south to southern California, central New Mexico, northern Texas, 
Missouri, and northern Indiana. Winters from British Columbia, Arizona, New 
Mexico, southern Illinois, and Delaware, south to the West Indies, Colombia, and 
Hawaii. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant winter resident, chiefly on fresh water 
throughout the State, lingering late into spring. Breeds sparingly at widely separated 
localities, in Los Angeles, Kings, Fresno, Merced, Alameda, and Solano counties 
(Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer). Also Inyo and Modoc counties. 

Authorities.—Gambel, Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, i., 1849, p. 226 
(Calif.); Emerson, Condor, vol. iii., 1901, p. 116 (Alameda Co.; desc. nest and eggs); 
Goldman, Condor, vol. x., 1908, p. 202 (Tulare Lake, breeding); McAtee, Auk, vol. 
XXxix., 1922, p. 380 (food; habits). 


ONE GLANCE at the long, broadly spatulate bill of the ‘“Spoon- 
bill,” or Shoveller, is quite sufficient to establish the bird’s identity in the 
mind of any one who has ever even heard one of its names. This huge 
bill not only gives its owner a top-heavy appearance, but gives the 
impression of a larger bird than the measurements warrant. The bird 
is rather less of a vegetarian than most of its kind. It eschews grain, 
and is not so partial to water-cresses and succulent browse as are Mallards 
and Widgeon. The roots of aquatic plants are eaten, but insects, tad- 
poles, snails, and small fish are a preferred diet. Much of the bird’s 
food is secured in the shallow water or mud, which is scooped up liberally 
and sifted through the lamelle of the beak until only edible portions are 
retained. In spite of this diet, the Shoveller’s flesh is seldom or never 
“fishy,’’ and so far as flavor is concerned, it makes a welcome addition 
to the table. 


1779 


The Shoveller 


Taken in San Francisco 


A QUIET CORNER OF STOW LAKE 


Photo by the Author 


Highly gregarious at all times, it is in the pursuit of food that the 
Shovellers have developed a curious communal habit, called by the sports- 
men ‘“‘milling.”’ 


Taken near Santa Barbara 


7780 


This operation may be carried on by a dozen or by a 


BEHIND THE SCREEN 


Photo by the Author 


hundred birds en 
masse, and con- 
sists of paddling 
with increasing 
speed upon the 
surface of the 
water, presum- 
ably with the out- 
side foot, until 
the whole mass of 
birds experiences 
a rapid circular 
or elliptical mo- 
tion. The birds’ 
bodies are in ac- 
tual contact, but 
their heads are 
all below, greed- 


The Shoveller 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
THE QUIET HOUR 


DUCKS, CHIEFLY SHOVELLERS, AS VIEWED FROM A BLIND ON LAGUNA BLANCA 


ily sifting the turbulent waters, whose hitherto hidden dainties their 
combined efforts have succeeded in stirring up. 

At Laguna Blanca, where most of the accompanying photographs 
were taken, the ducks enjoyed a measure of protection, and, so, were free 
to indulge these milling tactics, a close absorption in which puts the birds 
at a decided disadvantage. Indeed, in the pursuit of my innocent ends, 
I learned to slip up on the birds when every man Jack of them had his 
head down. When the shutter roared, there was confusion and flight. 
But cameras kill no ducks, and so the hungry Shovellers ventured back 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
MILLING 


T7381 


again and again. Imme- 
diately upon settling after 
a scare, the birds by scores 
and dozens will rise and 
stand upon their tails and 
flutter their wings, as though 
to reassure themselves of 
safety. A curious muffled 
roar is produced by the sum 
of these operations, and when 
the birds are numerous, this 
sound is sustained for some time 
with remarkable uniformity. A 
“mill” observed here one evening 
must have numbered upwards of 
500 birds in one solid mass, and 
there were other lesser operations 
in progress at the same time. 

For some unknown reason 
Shovellers seldom become very fat, 
as do most other ducks, and on this 

account they are not very much 
sought after by sportsmen. Their 
most striking characteristic from the 
hunter’s standpoint is curiosity—this 
and artless innocence. If there is 
anything unusual going on in the 
swamp, the Shoveller wants to see. 
It is, therefore, the easiest of birds 
to decoy. Once when Mr. Bowles’s 
dog was retrieving a duck in open 
water, a drake Shoveller came flying 
up, noted something interesting, and 
settled promptly within a foot of dog and bird. However, if frightened, 
or on a flyway, it requires a good shot to bring a Shoveller to bag, as it 
is almost as swift a-wing as any of the Teals. 

The plumage of this duck is very handsome, and some of its feathers 
are of special interest to the bird-student. Thus the markings of the 
drake combine in a striking degree the essential characters of both the 
Mallard and the Blue-winged Teal. Its head is of iridescent green, its 
lower parts are chestnut, and its feet red—all characteristic of the male 
Mallard—while its wing is practically an enlarged edition of the drake 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 


THE LOOK-AT-ME POSE 
MALE SPOONBILL ON STOW LAKE - 


1752 


eouelg BuNnSe’y] UO Uaye J, 


4oyinp ayy dq ydvibopoyug D Wot 
ISSBJ] US SUISTY ‘SLI]TJVBAOYS 


The Shoveller 


Blue-wing. The bird’s eye, moreover, is golden, like that of the genus 
Clangula, and in its striped scapulars as well as in the pattern of color- 
ation on flanks and tail-coverts the bird recalls the lordly Pintail. 

The nesting of the Shoveller is not differentiated from that of a half 
dozen other river ducks, which resort to lowland meadows and weedy 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
GENERAL EXODUS 


areas adjacent to swamps. Ten or eleven eggs, buffy as to hue, with a 
greenish cast, are placed in a grass-lined depression on the ground; and 
when the set nears completion an abundance of dark down is provided, 
both to retain the parental warmth, and to screen the eggs from observa- 
tion in the owner’s absence. One curious fact came to light in the course 
of a season’s nesting; namely, the dependence of the ducks upon the 
presence of Meadowlarks. We found that the close proximity of these 


1783 


The Pintail 


two very diverse species was no chance coincidence, but a very practical 
rule, insomuch that whenever, in dragging, we flushed a Meadowlark, 
we said, ‘‘Now look for the duck’s nest.’’ Once, before we had discovered 
this rule, we put up a Shoveller from two eggs, and marked the spot with 
a bit of string tied to a neighboring weed. Returning four days later 
and dropping carefully to my knees before the string-tied cluster, I 
stretched out my hand to part the thick grasses. From exactly beneath 
the hand, with a yip of terror, flew a Meadowlark from six eggs. Talk 
of the continuity of Nature! Here was a manifest exception. Six eggs 
I had expected, but not Meadowlarks’. What pixie of the meadow had 
been tricking me? It was not till the day following that I returned with 
renewed courage to resolve the riddle. The Shoveller’s eggs, now cleverly 
concealed by down, were just twelve inches away from those of the Mead- 
owlark. Evidently, the Duck seeks association with the Lark; this not 
so much with a view to congenial company, as in order that she may be 
warned of the approach of danger. Perhaps it is the male Lark whose 
advice she plans to follow, in view of the fact that her natural protector, 
the gay drake, will desert as soon as she begins to brood. 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 


No. 354 
Pintail 


A. O. U. No. 143. Dafila acuta tzitzihoa (Vieillot). 
Synonyms.—SpriG. SprRIG-TAIL. SPIKE-TAIL. 


Description.— Adult male: Head and upper-neck hair-brown, darker or warmer 
brown on top of head, with faint greenish or wine-purple iridescence on sides of occiput; 
a narrow white stripe from occiput obliquely backward and downward to join white 


1784 


ey 
ae 


. Te 


Se 


ee 


eet So 


The Pintail 
two wer diverke species was no chance coincidence, but a very practical 
nits. aaeweuel that whenever, in dragging, we flushed a Meadowlark, 
ui ead om Wade for the duck's nest.” Once, before we had discovered 
a ao a Shoveller from twoeggs, and marked the spot with 
dict bo @ neighboring weed. Returning four days later 
hefore the string-tied cluster, I 
ny port the thick grasses. From exactly beneath 
Aboa seks jark from six eggs. Talk 

oe was a manifest exception. (Six eggs 
v4 What pixie of the meadow had 
day follawing that, | returned with 

> Pte Shoveller’s eggs, now cleverly 
in bes away from those of the Mead- 
sexeigtian with the Lark; this aot 
“sepeny, as in order that she may be 
pee it is the male Lark whose 
af dhe fact that her natural protector, 
he begins to brood. 


bei wie ODEN AS ai vg Rees 


rt 


PASHELE SWAIN 


tiuy, S54 
Pintail 


me teivathoa (Vieillot). 

(a5) | ERE. 

-neck hair-brown, darker or warmer 
wae bev ne iridescence on sides of occiputy 

say Backward and dewnward to join white 


The Pintail 


of breast; enclosed space on hind-neck blackish; fore-neck, breast and belly white, 
faintly dusky-barred on lower belly; hind-neck, back, sides of breast, and sides finely 
wavy-barred dusky and white; posterior scapulars and tertiaries lanceolate, heavily 
striped, broadly with black, more narrowly with buffy white, light brownish gray, 
and fuscous; rump and behind with mesial brownish dusky and obscure wavy-barring 
of fuscous and whitish; central pair of tail-feathers much elongated, blackish or with 
metallic reflections; crissum white, separated from belly by dull white area and broad 
flank-patches; wing-coverts plain brownish gray, the posterior row tipped with cinna- 
mon-rufous; speculum dull bronzy green or faintly glossy with dusky on either side, 
and bordered behind by biack and terminal white; axillars white with a little mottling 
of light grayish brown; lining of wings mottled brownish gray and white. Bill black, 
edged with grayish blue; feet and legs grayish blue; iris brown. Adult female: Ob- 
scurely colored; pale ochraceous or whitish on belly; ochraceous-buff or brownish buff 
on remaining underparts; much darker, nearly cinnamon-brown on crown; head and 
neck finely streaked with dusky, except occasionally on upper throat; breast variously 
spotted and streaked; sides with large irregular U-shaped markings of brownish dusky; 
upperparts dusky or greenish fuscous, lightly or heavily marked and striped with dull 
ochraceous or ochraceous-buff; wing much duller than in male, although pattern 
traceable; wing-coverts fuscous, narrowly white-edged and tipped; the tips of posterior 
row scarcely broader, white; speculum dusky with faint purplish and greenish gloss; 
axillars more heavily mottled with grayish brown. Adult male in breeding plumage: 
Similar to adult female, but wing as in ordinary plumage (Ridgw.). Young male: 
Like adult female but more ochraceous below and more uniformly streaked; slightly 
transverse-barred above, and wing early showing adult characteristics. Young female: 
Similar to adult, but more heavily tinged below, and more heavily streaked and striped 
above; speculum light brown dappled with dusky. Adult male length 660.4-762 (26.00- 
30.00); wing 269.2 (10.60); tail 158.8-241.3 (6.25-9.50); bill 53.3 (2.10); tarsus 43.2 
(1.70). Females average smaller: tail 101.6-127 (4.00-5.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size or less; lengthened tail-feathers of adult 
male; head hair-brown; fore-neck and below white (adult male). The female and 
young of this bird present difficulties. Look first for the wedge-shaped tail, and top of 
head suffused with cinnamon-brown and heavily streaked with blackish; then eliminate 
other species by careful attention to speculum and wing-coverts. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground, usually in a bunch of tall grass not far from 
water. Down: Deep mouse-gray with white centers. Eggs: 6 to 12; pale greenish 
gray (yellowish glaucous); egg smaller, slenderer, and usually brighter green than that 
of Mallard. Av. size 54.6 x 38 (2.15 x 1.50); index 70. Season: April 15-May; one 
brood. 

Range of Dafila acuta.—Northern Hemisphere, south in winter to northern 
Africa, Ceylon, China, and Panama. 

Range of D. a. tzitzihoa—North America. Breeds from the Arctic Coast south 
to southern California, southern Colorado, northern Iowa and northern Illinois; winters 
from southern British Columbia, Nevada, southern Missouri, southern Wisconsin, 
and Delaware, south to Porto Rico and Panama and in Hawaii; in migrations north 
to Greenland. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant migrant throughout the State; common 
winter resident, especially southerly. Spring migrations last (at Santa Barbara) 
from February to early May; the return movement sets in strongly (at Santa Barbara) 
by August 15th. Sparingly resident in summer and breeding at scattered stations, 
both east and west of the Sierras and south to Los Angeles and Riverside counties. 

1785 


The Pintail 


Authorities.—Gambel (Dafila caudacuta), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 24 (status in s. 
Calif.); H. C. Brvant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, pp. 220, 227 (desc. nest and eggs, etc.). 


WHETHER AS the object of admiring glances or covetous, whether 
as a flying target, a table bird, or, better still, as the subject of Brooks’s 
brush, the lordly Pintail deserves, it seems to me, first place in the con- 
sideration of the connoisseur. The Mallard is the contemporary ancestor 
of the domestic duck, and as such is perhaps entitled to early notice; 
but the Pintail is the epitome of all that makes ducks interesting. He 
is as handsome as any (save the Wood Duck, who is a professional beauty), 
and to the splendor of a tasteful color-pattern he adds both a sinuous 
gracefulness of movement and a bearing of conscious nobility which no 
other duck exhibits. Mark him sitting high on the water, reflecting the 
morning sun from his snowy breast, swaying the mobile neck in sagacious 
scrutiny, and raising the slender, tapering tail aloft, like an ensign, and 
you know you are dealing with an avian equal, a bird of quality and resource. 

Pintails are wary birds, and when mingling on the water with other 
species are usually the first to give the alarm. Being of a sociable nature, 
and also fastidious as to personal appearance, they spend a good deal of 
time on shore preening their feathers and gabbling amiably, or else nap- 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 


LORD AND LADY PINTAIL 


1786 


The Pintail 


ping. Here, by the exercise of proper precautions, they may be stalked; 
and owing to their habit of bunching closely when taking to wing, a second 
barrel may be even more destructive than the first. As single winged 
targets, they are among the most difficult, as their flight is extremely 
swift, perhaps the most rapid of any of the ducks. Or so the sportsmen 
tell me. Candidly, I’d as lief shoot peacocks, or trample flower-beds, 
or do any other of those things which lessen the beauty of the earth with- 
out adequate compensation. ‘‘Adequate,”’ did I say? Is any compen- 
sation adequate for the depopulated ponds, the lessened beauty of the 


Taken near Lake Merrit, Oakland Photo by H. C. Bryant 
Use by courtesy Cal. State Fish and Game Commission 


THE FIRST TABLE 
GRAIN HAS JUST BEEN DISTRIBUTED, BUT THE NEWCOMERS ARE HESITATING 


lakes, the diminished volume of wing-music, the lost confidence of the 
harmless wild things? I—vwell, I am not hungry, thank you—save for 
beauty; and as for “‘sport’’—well, now, just what is sport? Is it when 
all of us have a good time? or just a few of us? Of course, if there were 
really enough birds to go around, it might be different. It did seem 
different while it lasted. But now that the ducks are nearly gone, who 


1787 


The Pintail 


\ 


Taken on Empire Gun Club Grounds, near Elkhorn, Monterey County Photo by the Author 
SPRIGS QUITTING POND TEN 


really counts upon wild ducks as an adjunct to the bill of fare? If “Sport,” 
as now constituted, does not give over its insensate selfishness, or else 
turn to and raise its own birds for the slaughter, the generation about 
to be born will never know the sight of the vanishing River Ducks. 

But someone will say: “I have seen hundreds of ducks at such and 
such a place.’’ Yes, but your grandfather saw hundreds of thousands of 
ducks at the same place. We are talking of tendencies and policies now, 
not of where a bag may possibly be secured today. I repeat, that in 
spite of bag-limits and federal restrictions and the cessation of market 
shooting, unless there is an aggressive movement toward game propa- 
gation, we shall presently have to give over shooting for lack of anything 
to shoot. 

But who wants to shoot, anyhow? Come with me, and we will 
bag 5000 ducks of a dozen species with our double-barreled binoculars. 
If you must have trophies, remember that the best photographs of wild 
ducks have never been taken yet; nor (with humble apologies to the 
Major) the best pictures painted. The scene is Laguna Blanca (at its 
best, while thoroughgoing protection was in force); the date—shall we 
call it December 4th, 1912. A sheet of water containing less than thirty 
acres 1s bounded by heavy beds of tule, save where for a stretch of fifty 
yards a clear bank slopes gently to the water. A macadam road, some- 
what elevated above the reeds, runs round the whole, but at a distance 
sufficient to reassure the birds. The reeds themselves are full of the 
lesser birds, but on the shimmering surface of the water rest two or 


1758 


Yk |e 
ay eae 
y+ 
X ayy 
Sn ; 
‘ ei 
\ Y iy 
Se 
8 
“t 
ee 
kee 
. mek Y 
Ce te 
a oes 
te OE a 
< Yu ~ 
¥ wi y 
~ & (te 
i ‘ a 
PE eo 
ve Le ; ’ 
Ss { ve 
i Bry a 
XK Cay 
ie ager r 
Ue 
4m ‘kb 
- ue fe < 
A ee 
be 
tee 
a . ve 
yt x 
a a y) 
i * 
x 4 
vee = e 
ogee = 
o. 0 : 
wy 
qo 
© 
4 Ca - ¢ 
‘ oy 


Mass Flight of Pintails 


From a photograph by the Author 


Taken in Santa Barbara 


The Pintail 


three hundred Ruddy Ducks (1), their saucy tails cocked up in the air like 
a challenge to admiration, and they paddle or spatter about confidently 
like old residents, as indeed most of them are, for they breed here. Five 
hundred Canvas-backs (2), tired with the night’s questing in forbidden 
areas, ride at anchor mid-lake, their rich russet heads, most of them, 
tucked under oblivious wings. A dozen Wzdgeons (3), also near the 
center, flash their bald heads or answer a whistled inquiry of one of their 
number. Shovellers (4) are treading their productive ‘“‘mills’’ hard by 
the confines of the nearer reeds, and so at intervals around the lake. 
There must be 1500 of them, and they are so absorbed in their task that 
they care nothing for the census taker. A handsome Bufflehead (5) 
wings light-heartedly from a distant spot and settles with a splash within 
easy range. Careful scrutiny shows two more, females, in the distance. 
And now we descry, among the clustered Canvas-backs, a large form, 
a White-fronted Goose (6), no less, riding low and trying to look incon- 
spicuous. He need not be afraid; we have seen two other species of Geese 
here, and once a wild Swan. Lesser Scaups (7), a few, say fifty, mingle 
also with the Canvas-backs and proclaim their kinship by their ‘‘canvas”’ 
sides. We have come now to that portion of the lake where a little com- 
pany of Ring-necked Ducks (8), seven of them, are pretty sure to be 
napping on a little 
cove. The “‘bird- 
sharps” at Berkeley 
say that they are very 
scarce, and they have 
the California records 
duly numbered,—one, 
two, three, up to four- 
teen. But bless us: 
here they are year 
after year, as sure as 
—protection. The 
nearer tules are so 
high, we cannot see 
what lurks about their 
deeply submerged 
bases; but we can see 
suggestive forms and 
catch telltale flashes of 
color upon the oppo- 
site side of the lake, 


where the ducks are Taken in Oregon VOUNG PINPAITS Photo by Bohlman and Finley 


1789 


The Pintail 


quite at ease. A patch of dull red resolves itself into a double brace 
of Cinnamon Teals (9), incomparable in color, and a rare sight in winter, 
even in this favored locality. Green-winged Teals (10), the tiniest of 
their tribe, haunt another little cove and recall memories of northern 
meadows, sweet with new-mown hay, but tragic with maternal solici- 
tude. Here, at least, they are happy. Much searching for Mallards 
fails; but a few rarer birds, Gadwalls (11), ride at anchor in a shadowy 
cove, gray, obscure, but significant, like a battle-cruiser in her sea- 
paint. And of course 
we have left to the last 
the most striking species 
of all. Several hundred 
Pintails (12) occupy the 
preening beach. Some 
are dozing; others are 
making their toilets with 
most becoming dili- 
gence; while others still 
are parading up and 
down, like distinguished 
visitors at a pleasure 
pier. Other hundreds 
have hauled out upon 
the broken-down tules, 
at a point where the 
Pane Obi dune. water is deepest and the 
landward maze most im- 
SR PSAMVNERED penetrable. A shout, a 
A CINNAMON TEAL WAS CLAIMING IT, BUT IT LOOKS TO ME MORE LIKE A PINTAIL, YOU GUESS. clapping of the hands, 
and all is attention. A 
thousand birds slip silently into the water and push out watchfully from 
shore, a more than Spanish Armada for splendor, ready at an instant 
to take the air. It were a pity to frighten them, but who does not love 
the harmless bedlam of bird-wings, and especially the down-rush of stiff- 
set duck-wings, intent on shelter—when confidence has been restored! 
It is an imperfect picture, a mere catalogue of ducks, but such have 
I seen again and again; and I solemnly protest that I would not exchange 
the sight for the biggest ‘‘bag’’ ever made, nor for all the smoking car- 
casses which ever graced the tables at Zinkand’s or Tait’s. Dum vivimus 

vivant anates. 
At the mating season the Pintails delight to exhibit their volitorial 


1790 


Taken in Merced County Pholos by the Author 
AN ANXIOUS MOTHER 
THIS FEMALE BY PARADING OSTENTATIOUSLY UP AND DOWN IS COVERING THE RETREAT 
OF HER QUARTER-GROWN BROOD 


The Pintail 


powers. A bravo will climb the heavens 
in sheer exuberance of spirit, and then 
descend on stiffly outstretched and down- 


curved wings at a break- 
neck speed. As he nears 
the ground, he shifts the 
angle slightly and 
shoots over the surface 
like a meteor, challeng- 
ing as he passes, with a 
wing-rush which leaves 
the beholder almost 
dazed. The female 
sometimes participates 
in these aerial excursions 
and enjoys the sport as 
wellas her consort. Nel- 
son tells of such a pair 
which attracted his at- 
tention in the lower Yu- 
kon country: “‘Back and 
forth they passed at a 
marvelously swift rate of 
speed, with frequent 
quick turns and evolu- 
tions. At one moment 
they were almost out of 
view high overhead, and 
the next saw them skim- 
ming along the ground 
in an involved course 
very difficult to follow 
with the eye. Ere long 
a second male joined in 
the chase, then a third, 
and so on until six males 
vied with each other in 
the pursuit. The origi- 
nal pursuer appeared to 
be the only one capable 
of keeping close to the 
coy female, and owing to 


LIT OL 


The Pintail 


her dextrous 
turns and curves 
he was able to 
draw near only at 
intervals. When- 
ever he did suc- 
ceed, he always 
passed under the 
female, and kept 
so close to her 
that their wings 
clattered to- 
gether witha 
noise like a 
watchman’s 
rattle, and aud- 
ible a long dis- 


tance. This chase 


Taken in Oregon Photo by Finley and Bohlman 
PINTAIL DUCK ON NEST lasted half an 


hour, and after 
five of the pursuers had dropped off one by one, the pair remaining (and 
I think the male was the same that originated the pursuit) settled in one 
of the ponds.” 

The Pintail is a regular but not a common breeder in California, 
being found chiefly in the overflow country in the San Joaquin area, and 
about some of the lesser lakes of the North. The species is usually the 
very first to leave for its major breeding area in the high North, and the 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 


ESCAPE 
1792 


The Pintail 


few who remain are a little more forward in their nesting than are the 
Redheads and Cinnamon Teals. It is for this reason perhaps that Pin- 
tail chicks are better known than Pintail eggs in California; and the 
accounts of juvenile encounters are more numerous than observations 
on nesting behavior. 

As is usually the case with the River Ducks (except Azx sponsa), 
the nest of the Pintail is a lowly hollow scraped out in the grass or herb- 
age, whether near to or remote from water. A sitting female is, naturally, 


Taken in Oakland Photo by H. C. Bryant 
Use by courtesy of the California Fish and Game Commission 


WAITING FOR BREAKFAST 


DUCKS, CHIEFLY PINTAILS AND WIGEONS, ON LAWNS BORDERING LAKE MERRITT. A CONSPICUOUS EXAMPLE OF RESPONSE 
TO PROTECTION. 


very inconspicuous, and she knows how to remain motionless. So great 
is the bird’s reliance upon protective, or obliterative, coloration, that in 
one instance, according to Rockwell,! a duck whose nest was ‘‘a depression 
in a perfectly bare sandy flat without a particle of concealment of any 
kind,” successfully hatched a clutch of eleven eggs. However, the eggs 
of a nest which I took from very scanty cover at Los Banos, although the 


41Condor, Vol. XIII., Nov., 1911, p. 188. 


1793. 


The Pintail 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 


PINTAILS LEAVING THE ESTERO 


bird was flushed, turned out to be addled on account of undue exposure 
to the sun. It is as important, evidently, that the downy coverlet— 
invariably drawn over the eggs by a careful mother upon leaving—should 
shield the eggs from a too ardent sun, as that, on colder days, it should 
retain the exact degree of heat imparted by the sitting bird. 

The discovery of a brood of ducklings is no end of fun; for the ele- 
mental boy in us will give chase upon the instant. If the brood is young, 
some of them will freeze on the spot, some of them will dive, and some will 
make frantic efforts to escape through weeds or reeds. It looks at first 
as though we could corral the whole bunch, but one minute later we count 
it lucky if we have asingle bird. The mother, meanwhile, has been having 
successive spasms, in the effort, not always unavailing, to distract our 
attention. Her legs are useless; both her wings are manifestly broken; 
and as for meat,—why bother with a mere mouthful, when a whole help- 
less duck is at hand? If the flock is half-grown, or such a matter, they 
will escape at a terrific speed, while the resourceful mother arranges more 
elaborate pantomimics. On a windy day near Los Banos, as we ap- 
proached a certain pond, a brood of young Pintails set out through a 


1794 


uLoyy[g teau qnig uny aardwgy ay} fo spunosd ayy uo uaye J, 


40yyn Pp ayy tq ydvsboqoyg v wos 


S8Adg Jo YS A[apso Uy 


The Pintail 


‘choppy sea,’’ under the supervision of an anxious mother. The little 
fellows made off in splendid form, and were soon lost to view across the 
stormy water. We could not possibly have captured them, even if we 
had been mischievously disposed. But the mother was not satisfied, 
and she spent the ensuing fifteen minutes entertaining us, chiefly by pa- 
rading back and forth before our eyes, ‘“‘crossing our bows’’ repeatedly, 
at distances ranging from a hundred feet down to thirty or forty. Of 
course this was nuts to the photographer, especially as it was down sun; 
and we profited ten plates’ worth. 

Of the behavior of Pintails under gun-fire, I have no exact information 
or curiosity. I only know that the “‘Sprig’’ is among the wariest of ducks, 
and also one of the most confiding. The difference between the two ex- 
tremes is a gun-shot. The portraits on page 1786 are those of perfectly 
wild birds who enjoy ‘‘King’s Ex’”’ at Stow Lake. On the protected areas 
near Santa Barbara the birds do no more than trouble to get out of the 


Taken tn Santa Barbara 
Photo by the Author 


“SPRIGS” 


way of a wading photographer. Yet in all probability some of these birds 
travel 150 miles each way to obtain food nightly. Indeed, they may 
travel much farther than that, for at certain seasons the Pintails quit our 
ponds at three o’clock in the afternoon, and do not return till nine in the 
morning. Perhaps they have spent the night in the wheat-fields of the 
Sacramento Valley, and are willing to pay such a price for a short day’s 
rest. 

When protection was withdrawn, temporarily, from Laguna Blanca, 
I have seen the tired birds rise at the first alarm, and settle in the kelp- 
beds off the shore of Hope Ranch. Each in a quiet area, where the out- 


1795 


The Wood Duck 


cropping of kelp was sufficient to prevent drifting, I have seen, on a 
sunny winter’s day, a dozen “‘rafts’’ of ducks, chiefly Pintails and Shovel- 
lers, hundreds in each, soundly snoozing. 

One fact which appears to have escaped the notice of even the astute 
authors! of ‘‘The Game Birds of California,” is the early and abundant 
autumnal return of the male Pintails while still in the eclipse plumage. 
Probably the Santa Barbara coast is unusually favored in this respect, 
because annually, in the month of August, before other reported localities 
are talking, or even thinking of ducks, we are visited by hundreds, some- 
times thousands, of returning migrants, invariably males. Gadwalls are 
among them, and on the 25th of August, 1915, I encountered upon the 
Estero ponds, within the city limits, a close-set flock of twenty-five Blue- 
winged Teals. But Pintails outnumber all other ducks (save resident 
Ruddies) a hundred to one at this season. Thus, on the 21st day of 
August, 1912, I estimated the number of Pintails on the Estero alone at 
over a thousand. During August, 1922, the Beale Estero, or “Bird Re- 
serve’ (upon the eastern edge of Santa Barbara), was fairly crowded with 
migrating Pintails, probably tens of thousands of them appearing and 
passing in the course of a month. Because of the “‘eclipse’’ character of 
the plumage—the regulation pattern of the “‘Lordly Pintail’’ is only 
faintly outlined, all but invisible, at this time of the year—everybody 
(including the sportsman) was asking, ‘““‘What are they?” 


No. 355 


Wood Duck 


A. O. U. No. 144. Aix sponsa (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—SuMMER Duck. ‘THE BRIDE.” 

Description.—Adult male: Of almost indescribable elegance; head, crested, 
metallic and iridescent, green, purple, violet, and black; a white line from angle of 
upper mandible along crown, and another backward from behind eye, both continued 
in the feathers of the large occipital crest; throat white, sending up two transverse 
bars on either side on cheek and hind-neck, fore-neck and breast rich chestnut, glossed 
with purplish on sides of breast, and marked centrally with triangular white spots, 
which increase in size backward; belly broadly white; sides warm fulvous, minutely 
waved with black, the tips of the outermost feathers with broad crescentic bars of 
black and white; chestnut of breast and fulvous of sides separated by two transverse 
bars, the front one white, the hinder black; upperparts chiefly sooty or velvety black 
with metallic reflections of blue, purple, green, and bronze; the anterior and marginal 
coverts and base of primaries (all mostly concealed) plain fuscous; exposed tips of 


'Messrs. Grinnell, Bryant and Storer. The work itself is a compendium of information of marvelous accuracy, 
interest, and completeness. 


7790 


The Wood Duck 


mapping of kelp was sufficient to prevent drifting; I have seen, on a 
auany winter's day, a dozen “‘rafts’’ of ducks, chiefly Pintails and Shaker 
jurs. Gunedeed’s in each, soundly snoozing. 

Ome fact which appears to have escaped the notice of even the Bettie 
anthers: cd “The Game Birds of California,” is the early and abundant ) 
Sutil retirn of the male Pintails while still in the eclipse plumage. : 
PMeahaliy the Sasta Barbara coast is unusually favored in this respect, ~ 
hecepee gtrntally. in the month of August, before other reported localities 

Ring, 2s : thinking of ducks, we are visited by hundreds, some- 

returning migrants, invariably males. -Gadwalls are 

ton the 25th of August, 1915, ] encountered upon. the 

i « city limits, a close-set flock of twenty-five Blue- 

Hur Finials outnumber all other ducks (save resident 

ostrt ta one at this season.. Thus, on the 21st day of 

i simaved the number of Pintails on the Estero alone at 

turing August, 1922, the Beale Estero, or “Bird Re- 

mm edge of Santa Barbara), was fairly crowded-with 

spine tens of thousands of them appearing and 

- of a month. Because of the !‘eclipse “character of ” 

‘emulation pattern of the “Lordly Pintail’’ 1s only 

hut invisible, at this time of the year—everybody 
feman) was asking, “What are they?’ 


. 


fii 


life siz 


355 


Weodl Duck 


Aim sponsa /Linnzus). 
ier Dace oe Tae Bebe’ 
Of almost indescribable elegance; head, crested,” 
yorpie, violet, and black; a white line from angle of a 
». efit e@nother backward from behind eye, both continued 
i ies bimesk thtpat gs sending up two aneverey 


a 
= 
=| 
i 
3 


0 
ut 


i, ies fharked centrally with aenion white spots 
: belly broadiy white; sides warm fulvous, minutely 
rhe ny reeient feathers wigs read Crescent bars bi 


§ hinder pick eppee perks ‘chiefly sooty or velvety. t 
<3 OMe, purple, green, and bronze; the anterior and mars 
‘teins (all mostly concealed) plain fuscous; exposed tips © 


The Wood Duck 


primaries silvery white, on outer web tipped with metallic blue; secondaries white- 
tipped, the exposed webs metallic; crissum sooty-brown with metallic gloss; flank- 
patches intense purplish chestnut; axillars and lining of wings white, spotted or 
barred with dusky. ‘‘Bill (in life) beautifully varied with jet-black, milk-white, lilac, 
red, orange, and yellow; legs and feet orange, claws black; iris and edges of eye-lid 
red.’ Adult female and young: Crest only faintly indicated; top of head purplish 
brown with faint metallic reflections; throat and space about eye (extending back- 
ward to occiput) and some feathering about base of bill, white; rest of head ashy 
brown; upperparts much as in male but duller, chiefly warm brown in place of black; 
fore-neck and breast brown, streaked with lighter or dull ochraceous; belly white; 
crissum mixed fuscous and white. Length, adult male: 482.6-520.7 (19.00-20.50): 
wing 232.4 (9.15); tail 98.6 (3.88); bill 33 (1.30); tarsus 34.5 (1.36). Female, 
length: 431.8-489 (17.00-19.25); other dimensions in proportion. 

Recognition Marks.—Smaller than Mallard; exquisitely variegated plumage of 
male unmistakable; female unlike that of any other species. 

Nesting.— Nest: Ina hollow tree, lined with twigs, grasses, and down. Down: 
Yellowish gray. Eggs: 8 to 14; dull yellowish or pale olive-gray. Av. size 52.1 x 40 
(2.05 x 1.58). Season: April 20-May; one brood. 

General Range.—Temperate North America. Breeds from the southern tier 
of Canadian provinces south to California, Texas, Florida, and Cuba. Resident on 
the Pacific Coast; and wintering chiefly in the southern half of its eastern range. Cas- 
ual in Bermuda, Jamaica, Mexico, and Europe. 

Distribution in California.—Rare resident locally throughout the State, but 
chiefly northerly and in the Sacramento-San Joaquin Valley. Numbers slightly aug- 
mented by fall migratory movement. Formerly abundant but now. verging upon 
extinction. 

Authorities.—Newberry, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 1857, p. 102 (Calif.); 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 24 (status in s. Calif.); Grinnell and Bryant, 
Calif. Fish and Game, vol. i., 1915, p. 49 (status in Calif.). 


BEYOND controversy, the Wood Duck of America is one of the 
most exquisitely beautiful of living creatures. Among the Ducks them- 
selves only one species, the Mandarin (Azx galericulata), of China, ap- 
proaches it in elegance; and this is not so strange, since the Mandarin 
is a kinsman, or, in scientific parlance, a ‘‘congener,”’ of our bird. Linnzeus 
called the Wood Duck ‘‘the Bride” (Latin, sponsa, bride); but of course 
it is the bridegroom who wears the jewels, and inherits the products of 
Oriental looms and dye-stuffs, bequeathed through a thousand genera- 
tions, for males must strut and females must work, is the rule among ducks 
as among most other groups of birds. Literally a// the colors of the rain- 
bow belong to this bird in his nuptial plumage—with black and white 
thrown in for good measure. The Wood Duck is our one vision of trop- 
ical splendor, a thing too beautiful and, as the event has proved, too con- 
fiding to entrust to our vandal generation. 

The Wood Duck is notable not alone for the gaudiness of its attire. 
In action it is graceful and agile and pleasing. Birds of this species 


1797 


The Wood Duck 


frequent, or used to frequent, secluded swamps, lagoons, and shaded 
waterways. They are swift and graceful fliers, and they are able to tra- 
verse the mazes of the forest with the ease of pigeons. They perch read- 
ily upon the branches of trees, and even walk along them without hesi- 
tancy. To the aquatic fare offered by the surface and depths of woodland 
pools, is added the flying insects of the forest home, and the tender shoots 
and leaves of plants in spring. Acorns are a favorite food in fall, and 
upon these the birds sometimes stuff themselves to repletion. They 
evince an interest in fallen rice also; and if the stock could be nursed back 
to normality, they would doubtless do their part in protecting the rice 
grower against the “‘volunteer’’ crop which he so much dreads. 

Most curious are the Wood Duck’s nesting habits, with which our 
fathers, in some of the older settled portions of the State, were as familiar 
as we are with those of the Towhee. The birds were nearly resident, but 
there was a little shifting of position in the springtime. Winter ranges, 
selected with a view to forage, were exchanged for others more sheltered, 
or where neglected timber offered appropriate building sites. A site was 
chosen in the hollow of a broken branch of a tree—an oak, a willow, or 
a sycamore—in a deserted woodpecker hole enlarged by weathering, or 
in the central hollow of some tree to which admission must be gained 
through a crevice. Those holes which overlooked water were much pre- 
ferred, but in the absence of such, the Bride and Groom would sometimes 
take up residence half a mile from the nearest swamp or stream. Within 
the chosen hollow from eight to seventeen eggs, ‘“‘resembling old polished 
ivory,’ were placed on a cushion of grasses, leaves, feathers, and down. 
Occasionally the entrance to a nesting hole was so narrow that the female 
in visiting her eggs was obliged to spend some time in squeezing through, 
and instances not a few are on record where the shell of the egg of the 
straining bird was cracked before deposition. In an instance reported 
by Mr. Roswell S. Wheeler, in Sacramento County, the bird burrowed 
into a hay-mow, to which access had been gained by a fortunate hole in 
the side of the barn, and there, through the kindly vigilance of the farmer, 
she successfully brought off her brood. 

The female sits for four weeks, during which time the drake is likely 
to make himself scarce, or at least not manifest, in that vicinity. It is 
said, however, that the male mounts a wary guard in some neighboring 
tree and apprizes his mate of approaching danger by a strange cry, 
“oe-eek,”’ like the crowing of a young cock. No attempt is made by 
the male to supply the sitting bird with food; but if the locality is one 
not particularly exposed to danger, he will join her in the hour or so of 
forage-vacation which she allows herself in the course of the day. 

When the young are hatched, they instinctively scramble to the 


7798 


The Wood Duck 


mouth of the hole and tumble out, or are urged out by the mother, falling 
either into the receptive water, or upon the carpet of leaves at the foot 
of the nesting tree. If the distance is too great, the mother will carry 
the youngsters to the ground in her bill, one at a time, until all are out, 
and then lead them to the nearest water. There is no question but that 
both these methods are in vogue, so the early recorded discussions of 
“carry’’ vs ‘“‘tumble”’ are only faintly amusing. 

The Wood Duck, once abundant practically throughout the United 
States, no longer exists in a hundredth part of its former numbers, and 
in the East not in a thousandth part. Unceasing exposure to gun-fire 
has brought its ruin. And for what? Simply that 
the pot might be kept boiling, that the great 
American belly might be filled. One 
has a certain degree of sympathy for 


JUST DUCKS os 


Photo by the Author < 
ae 
— a 
? pe 
fe we 
Le yaaa eS 
a = See thot 
<— UR ROLE EES RESIS MRS aR Seine 
Sesiatnces emt ra — Pi ooe tr Wie aaa 
& aig Paige eg pete 
ay Lp apie sat ease 


the ancient Hawaiians who unwittingly exterminated the ‘‘Mamo’’ (Dre- 
pants pacifica), in order that its blood-red feathers might adorn a chief- 
tain’s cloak. Savages in all ages have envied the birds their gaudy 
plumage, and have tricked themselves out, as did our own ladies up to 
a dozen years ago, in borrowed feathers. If the Wood Duck had perished 
in the cause of human adornment, some feeble word might have been 
said in justification. But no! it fell before the all-devouring swinishness 
of the human maw. Because its flesh was sapid, its bridal array was 
stripped from it and flung on the dump, while its quivering ounce of meat 
went into the pot. The lord of creation has dined—but where is the 
Wood Duck? 

Reports are unanimous that the Wood Duck, once abundant, or 
at least “‘common,” in California, was upon the verge of extinction by 
1913. Whether or not the ‘‘absolute’”’ protection extended at that time 
by Federal enactment will suffice to bring the species back, remains to 


1799 


The Redhead 


be seen. It is certain that the establishment of breeding farms and pri- 
vate preserves would go far to restore this very desirable bird. The 
Wood Duck does well in semi-captivity; and where happy surroundings 
can be assured, the breeding of Wood Ducks for parks and gardens is 
highly commendable. 


No. 356 


Redhead 


A. O. U. No. 146. Marila americana (Eyton). 
Synonym.—AMERICAN POCHARD. 


Description.— Adult male: Angle between culmen and forehead abrupt; head 
and upper-neck bright chestnut, glossed with reddish purple, most heavily on neck; 
lower-neck and breast all around (i. e. including upper back) deep glossy brownish 
black; belly white; rump, upper tail-coverts, and crissum sooty black; remaining 
plumage, except wings, and including lower belly (in fact all above the ‘‘water line’’) 
finely wavy-barred or vermiculated dusky and white in about equal proportions; wing- 
coverts ashy gray speckled with white; speculum still lighter,—warm ashy gray, 
tipped with white; axillars entirely and lining of wings chiefly white. Bill dull blue 
with a black belt at tip; feet grayish blue, with black claws and dusky webs; iris orange. 
Adult female: Much plainer; wing as in male; above and on breast and sides warm or 
dull grayish brown, more or less tipped with buffy or fulvous, the feathers of back and 
scapulars sometimes speckled with dusky and white on tips, according to season; 
darker on back and crown, lighter on sides of head and neck, especially above bill, 
lightening to buffy white on chin and throat; belly white; lower belly light grayish 
brown; crissum grayish brown and white. Bill lighter than in male. Jmmature 
male: Like adult female but darker; feathers near base of bill, on sides only, whitish; 
speculum (always?) creamy white instead of ashy gray. Length 457.2-558.8 (18.00- 
22.00); wing 227.6 (8.96); tail 63.5 (2.50); bill 45.7 (1.80); tarsus 39.6 (1.56). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size or smaller; chestnut head, black breast, 
and “‘canvas”’ back and sides of male. See distinctions under next species. 

Nesting.— Nest: A sturdy basket of woven rushes, a foot or more in diameter 
and 8 inches to a foot in depth, placed in dense, grassy cover of marsh, or lashed to 
reeds over water. Down: Dull white. Eggs: 10 to 22 (greater numbers represent 
the product of two birds); oval to elliptical; dull yellowish buff to dull yellowish glaucous 
(hence not always distinguishable from those of Anas boschas). Av. size 62.2 X 43.7 
(2.45 x 1.72); index 70. Season: April 20—June 10; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds in the West from. the southern 
Canadian provinces south to southern California; Utah, and the southern portions of 
South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Winters from British Columbia, Utah, 
Kansas, and from Illinois east to Delaware, south to Florida, central Mexico, and 
southern Lower California. Common on the Atlantic Coast during migrations. 
Casual (?) in Alaska. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common summer resident in suitable 
localities throughout the State; more abundant during migrations; scarce or locally 
wanting in winter. Found on both fresh and salt water. 


7SOO 


he wen it ic certain that the establishment of breeding farms and pri- 
vate pacarrves would! go far to restore this very desirable bird. The 
Wik cet ees well a semti-captivity: and where happy surroundings 


asa. the brending of Wood Ducks for parks and gardens is 
sueeeneciatte. ; ie : 


¢ 


. gagrcsna (Reton). 


ve fig, and crissum: sooty 
. ever oetly, Gn fact all above t 
aad white in about equal proportions; wing- 
.- speculum still lighter, warm ashy gray; 
-aa ning of wings chiefly white. Bill dull blue- 
5, Suc, with black claws and dusky webs; iris orange. 
: male: above and of breast and sides warm OF 
pet with buffy or fulvous, the feathers of back and 
sky and white on fips, according to season; 4 
sides of head and neck, especially above ‘bill, 
4A throat; belly white; lower belly light grayish” 
ag white, Bul lighter than in male. Immature 
jap jeathers near base of bill, on dides only, whitish; ~ 
Sideud of ashy gray- Length 457.2-558-8 (18.00- 
Oe gol; bill 45.7 (7.80); tarsus 39-6 (1.56). 
fencers: Sete Siggy fize OF cmaller: chestnut head, black breast, 
bear ses - See distinctions under next species. es 
casket of woven rushes, a foot or more in diameter 
bin dense, grassy COVer of marsh, or lashed to — 
Bugs: 10 to. 22 (greater numbers represent nse 
-Auil yellowish buff to dull yellowish glaucous 
fovee ut Anas boschas).. Av. size 62.2 ¥ 43-7. 
Pune 1e; one brood. BoM eerres: 
@yeeds in the West from. the southern 
ittcenia, Utah, and the southern portions of. 
‘Winters from British Columbia, Utah, | 
Satawars, SOUTH tO Florida, central Mexico, 
whe Atlantic Coast during migrations. 
fenmon summer resident in suitable ~ 
odes duriag migrations; scarce ‘or locally 
‘a eakk water: BEN ea 


The Redhead 


Authorities.—Woodhouse ( Nyroca ferina), Rep. Sitgreaves Exped. Col. R., 
1853, p. 104 (Calif.); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 24 (s. Calif.; nesting 
dates); H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, pp. 228, 229, 231 (desc. nest and eggs, etc.). 


THE MEMBERS of the genus Marila may be characterized as over- 
trustful fowl; for of these the Canvasback alone has acquired wisdom (and 
he at bitter cost), while the Redhead has very nearly achieved extinction. 
From what we know of physical conditions, and from what we gather of 
earlier accounts, we conclude that the Redhead was once fairly abundant 
as a breeding bird of California. Although it is still faithful to its old 
breeding haunts, the discovery of a nest is rated as an achievement. The 
bird’s confiding disposition, meriting at times the name “‘fool duck,”’ to- 
gether with the undoubted savor of its flesh, has invited an incessant per- 
secution, which must have resulted by now in a ninety or ninety-five per 
cent reduction in numbers. Add to these factors the close resemblance 
which the Redhead bears to the distinguished, if over-rated, Canvas- 
back, and the only wonder is that any survive. 

Redheads arrive from the North in mid-autumn, and those which 
attempt to winter in the Sacramento Valley, or about San Francisco Bay, 
hail, presumably, from the ““Upper Sonoran”’ interior of Oregon, Washing- 
ton, and British Columbia. The California breeders at the same time 
probably retreat to Lower California and Mexico. At any rate, the species 
is nearly unrepresented in winter on the interior lakes of southern Cali- 
fornia; and those which formerly wintered in the coastal lagoons of Los 
Angeles County may have been, like those of the Sacramento and Tulare 
country, Canadian-bred birds. 

Ecologically speaking, the Redhead forms a sort of connecting link 
between “River” and ‘‘Sea’’ Ducks. In nesting it does not deploy over 
the landscape, after the democratic fashion of Pintails and Mallards, but 
it keeps to deep water, or at least to such reaches of cat-tails and sedges 
as are well watered at the base. Like the Ruddy, it isa bird of the channels 
and the deeper shallows, instead of the mud-flats and meadows. On the 
other hand, it does not, like Scaups or even Canvasbacks, resort to the 
kelp-beds or the open ocean in winter; but it keeps rather to the larger 
bodies of fresh water or, at most, frequents only the brackish lagoons of 
coastal districts. 

Most of the Redhead’s food is obtained by diving; and it consists 
not alone of minnows, frogs, newts, and the smaller mollusks, but more 
largely of the leaves or roots of various aquatic plants. It is generally 
a ‘clean feeder’; and when it is able to add wild celery to its bill of fare, 
its flesh is rated very high upon the market. 

The Redhead’s affinity for deep water is best illustrated by its nest- 


ISOL 


The Redhead 


ing habits. Its nest is an ‘“‘ark of bulrushes’’; and although the sides of 
the nest are bound tightly to the stems of surrounding plants, its bot- 
tom is usually supported by a semi-buoyant mass of accumulated vege- 
tation. By reason of its watery surroundings, the bird is able to steal 
to and from its nest unobserved, that is, by the under-water route, and 
it is pretty sure to avail itself of this method for escape, when sufficient 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF REDHEAD 


warning of approach has been given. Whether Redhead’s deep basket be 
woven of dried tule-stems, cat-tails, or grasses, its structure is not deemed 
complete until a blanket of down has been provided. This, needless to 
say, the bird plucks from her own breast when the egg-complement is 
laid. The down is of a pale grayish white, and thus blends with its sur- 
roundings of weathered tules much more accurately than would the 
sooty gray of a River Duck. 

It is not alone because of her skill as an architect, nor yet because 
of her easy-going disposition, that the Redhead is imposed upon by her 
shrewder neighbors. She is such a very motherly creature that she thinks 
nothing of raising a dozen or fifteen, or even nineteen chicks, in her own 


7802 


The Canvas-back 


right. What wonder, then, if designing females, enamored of the gambols 
of high duck society, and dreading the maternal exile, impose upon this 
good dame in the matter of additional charges. A Redhead’s nest is the 
foundling asylum of the marshes. Init are found Ruddies’ eggs, Mallards’, 
or Teals’. When the two species are associated, the wily Canvasback 
frequently puts one over on her less astute neighbors. A. M. Shields 
is reported to have taken a nest containing twelve eggs of the Redhead 
and three of the Fulvous Tree Duck. Messrs. Willett and Jay found a 
nest at San Jacinto Lake which held twenty-seven eggs, of which ten were 
surmised to belong to another bird, possibly a Pintail. 

At Los Bafios I once found a Redhead’s nest whose owner was not 
quite so accommodating. Before her ladyship was ready to lay, a saucy 
Cinnamon Teal had deposited eight of her own burdens. At least, when 
I found it, May 22nd, 1912, the nest contained two of the Teal and one 
of the Redhead. Two days later, when I approached noisily through the 
rushes, I found the nest hastily covered with down and leafy trash, much 
scattering of down about, and water splashed on the skirts of the nest. 
The nest, when uncovered, contained five eggs of the Teal and two of the 
Redhead. After voicing my disgust in appropriate non-professional lan- 
guage, I spied a Teal’s egg under water below the nest. This gave me the 
clew, and by dint of exploring with careful toes, I located the other two 
missing Teal’s eggs, one of them well buried in six inches of soft mud 
below two feet of water. Whose was the exact moral responsibility for 
this divided house, we shall never know, for ‘‘science’’ claimed the right 
of suppressing all further incongruities. 


No. 357 


Canvas-back 


A. O. U. No. 147. Marila valisineria (Wilson). 

Description.—Adult male: Similar to preceding species, but larger, head larger, 
bill longer, and no evident angle between bill and forehead; head and upper neck 
reddish brown without purplish gloss, blackening on crown and chin; the sides less 
heavily waved with dusky; the white bars of upperparts much wider than the dusky 
(hence entire back conspicuously lighter in tone). Upper mandible dusky at base, 
bluish only between nostril and black tip; iris red. Adult female: Similar to that of 
preceding species, but proportioned like male; bill correspondingly different; feathers 
of back and scapulars more or less wavy-barred with white. (The female Red-head 
is sparingly speckled above with dusky and whitish, but never barred.) Length 508- 
596.9 (20.00-23.50); wing 228.6 (9.00); tail 73.7 (2.90); bill 59.7 (2.35); tarsus 44.5 
(1.75). 


1503 


The Canvas-back 


Recognition Marks.— Mallard size; slope of culmen continuous with forehead; 
reddish brown head and light canvas back. For detailed comparison with M. americana 
see above. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California. Nest: A bulky basket of 
twisted reeds, with walls 3 or 4 inches in diameter; built up above water in clump of 
reeds affording ready access to open water. Down: Gray. Eggs: 6-10; light 
greenish gray (yellowish glaucous), but also ‘‘rich grayish olive or greenish drab of a 
darker shade than that usually seen in the eggs of the other species’’ (Bent). Av. 
size 63 x 44.45 (2.48 x 1.75). Season: May 20-June; one brood. 


General Range.—North America. Breeds westerly from southwestern Kee- 
watin, central Mackenzie, Fort Yukon, and central British Columbia, to southern 
Minnesota, Nebraska, northern Nevada, and northern California. Winters chiefly 
coastwise from British Columbia and Maryland south to western Mexico and the Gulf 
States; but also interiorly along the edge of the “‘ice line’ to Colorado, Pennsylvania, 
etc. Casual in the West Indies, Bermuda, and Guatemala; in migrations north to 
New Brunswick. 

Distribution in California.—Common winter resident, but chiefly coastwise 
and on larger bodies of water. Abundant in certain favored bays and saline sloughs, 
and of common occurrence offshore. No definite record of nests found, but birds seen 
June 20, 1912, on Goose Lake were undoubtedly breeding. 


Authorities.— Woodhouse ( NVyroca valisneria), Rep. Sitgreaves Exped. Col. R., 
1853, p. 104 (Santa Isabella, Calif.) ; Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 575 (dis- 
tinction between canvasback and red-head); Howell and van Rossem, Condor, vol. 
XVil., 1915, p. 232 (Colo. R., winter). 


IF THE CANVASBACK were gifted with race consciousness, so 
that it might be aware of the fortunes and misfortunes of its fellows, 
doubtless the race ere this would have passed emphatic resolutions against 
the use of wild celery (Vallisneria spiralis), that seductive weed of Mary- 
land whose flavory tissues have built up the flesh and the reputation of 
the American Canvasback. But for that fatal ‘“‘celery,’’ our good friend 
might have remained multitudinously obscure, its flesh neither better 
nor worse than that of other ducks, its name plain Jones, instead of 
Antinoiis Coronatus, the ranking officer—and victim—of epicuredom. 
“A plague upon that celery tradition anyhow!” cry at once the spectral 
birds and all true bird-lovers. There is no wild celery in California, nor 
anywhere in the West. The western Canvasback’s flesh does not reek 
with this ambrosial herb; yet because some inspired gastronomist in 
Baltimore passed the word years ago, the Canvasback leads the circus 
in San Francisco (or did till market hunting was stopped), and so heads 
the procession to an early grave. 

We acknowledge that we are considerably pessimistic, and we know 
that we shall be ruled out of court by the eager sportsmen who cite “‘recent 
records” of extraordinary bags (said bags having been noted under ex- 
ceptional circumstances, which could not be duplicated elsewhere on 


TSO4 


The Canvas-back 


earth at the precise moment of happening), but we record the solemn con- 
viction that the duck situation in America has reached an impasse, from 
which not even Federal regulation is going to deliver us in time. The ducks 
simply do not exist in one fortieth part of their former numbers. Yet we 
go blissfully on licensing a hundred thousand shotguns in a single state 


CANVASBACKS 


(albeit each cautioned not to shoot more than 25 ducks in a day or 50 ina 
week), with a potential destruction of millions annually, and an actual 
destruction of everything within reach. The thing simply will not work 
out on this basis. Not even a merciful Creator will supply wild ducks 
forever in response to such inordinate, insatiable, unreasoning demand. 
The end is in sight. Either we shall have to kill off all the ducks and be 
done with it, or else we shall have to give the wild birds a rest and turn 
our attention to raising our own meat. 

Well; this is a sore subject. We will leave the stage—grumbling 
always, after our own fashion—and give place to the real players, the 
Canvasbacks—what there are left of them. 


1SO5 


The Canvas-back 


Viewed under a bright sun, as on a refuge pond, a resting company 
of care-free Canvasbacks is an inspiring sight. Both by reason of his 
size and his judicial calm, the Canvasback looks more substantial and 
more important than his lesser kinsfolk. That high-arched bill, melting 
into a sloping forehead—it looks somehow more suitable, more efficient, 
than the sudden angle of Cousin Redhead. The Canvasback is an opulent 
burgher. His head and neck are covered with conventional black and 
vandyke brown, and for the rest he is clad in flowing magisterial robes of 
canvas, save as a black velvet 
waistcoat points a contrast, and 
restrains his rotundity. Or, with 
| head under wing, he looks like 
a man-of-war lying at anchor. No 
need to keep a lookout. This is 
the international fleet at rest. 
When the siesta is over (and 
“Cans”’ have to sleep o’ daytimes 
in these troubled years), the flock 
deploys for food. Canvasbacks 
are deep divers. When in search 
of snails or clams, they must 
achieve depths of twenty or 
twenty-five feet. More com- 
monly, then, search is directed 
toward aquatic plants, and these 
they pluck up by the roots, 
bringing their plunder to the 
surface for consumption in the 

case of major hauls. As 
likely as not, the saucy Wid- 
geon presents himself before 
the astonished burgher upon 
his emergence, and snatches 
away a portion or all of his 
innocent swag. Well, never 
mind; there is plenty more 
at the bottom; and it is 
quieter down there anyway. 

At the approach of dan- 
ger the Canvasbacks draw 


Taken in Oakland Photos by W. W. Richards - 2 
DUCKS AT LAKE MERRITT together and paddle with lei- 


THE CENTRAL PANEL SHOWS 'A FLOCK OF CANVASBACKS 


T8006 


surely, strong strokes in one 


The Greater Scaup Duck 


direction. It is then, and especially when breasting the waves of a gale- 
swept bay, that the birds appear most lordly, most capable, most like a 
fleet of battleships. These ducks, also, are powerful upon the wing. Some 
consider them the swiftest of ducks, though I will back a Pintail or a 
frightened Teal, for a shorter flight. The sound made by their rushing 
wings is thrilling music, and the noise of a flock, hydroplanes now, settling 
upon the open water, all brakes set, is an experience not to be forgotten. 

Unfortunately, the Canvasback, in spite of his century-long dis- 
cipline of leaden hail, is a somewhat unsophisticated bird. Fearful enough 
of mankind, he, nevertheless, yields to the allurement of the first wooden 
duck which offers, and this in spite of the tell-tale blind hard by. At such 
times he iseasy meat. Or, as one authority artlessly puts it, “By carefully 
choosing the last one to dive each time, a whole flock can sometimes be 
brought to bag.”’ 

At nesting time, also, this long-suffering soul submits to further 
impositions. Ruddy Ducks and Mallards impose their offspring upon her 
care. Even the Redhead, unmindful of her own sufferings in this regard, 
often lays her eggs in the big basket of her still more indulgent sister. 
Where both species are common, as in the lake country of Alberta, it is 
sometimes a pretty problem to determine which is which. It is the rightful 
owner, usually, who strips the down from her breast; and this, in the case 
of the Canvasback, is always gray. 


No. 358 


Greater Scaup Duck 


A. O. U. No. 148. Marila marila (Linnezus). 

Synonyms.—Scavup. GREATER SCAUP. BLUE-BILL. SHUFFLER. RArt DUCK. 
BLACK-HEAD. FLOCKING DUCK. 

Description.—Adult male: Head and neck black with green gloss; foreneck 
all around and breast rich purplish black; a collar around neck obscurely lighter; 
belly and sides pure white; back and scapulars vermiculate or wavy-barred black 
and white,—the white bars wider in front, becoming much narrower behind; ter- 
tiaries, lower back, and tail-coverts sooty black; flanks sooty brown; wing-coverts 
blackish, speckled sparingly on tips with white; speculum white, tipped with blackish; 
axillars and under wing-coverts chiefly white. Bill dull blue with black nail, broadening 
and much hooked at tip: feet dark plumbeous and with darker webs: iris yellow. Adult 
female: Region about base of bill (least on chin) white; head and neck plain snuff- 
brown; fore-neck and breast dark brown, edged and tipped with lighter; sides and 
crissum dark grayish brown, the former decidedly, the latter obscurely, vermiculated 
with white; belly white, shading into brown marginally; upperparts brownish dusky, 
the tips of feathers speckled or obscurely vermiculated with white; wings, bill, 
etc., as in male. Length 444.5-508 (17.50-20.00); wing 219.7 (8.65); tail 73.7 
(2.90); bill 44.5 (1.75); tarsus 38.1 (1.50). 


S07 


The Greater Scaup Duck 


Recognition Marks.—Smaller than Mallard; head, neck, and breast black 
(female brown); belly and sides white (male); bill bluish with black nail. Larger. 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground in a grassy 
swamp, of grasses, etc., lined with feathers and down. Eggs: 6 to 10; pale olive- 
buff to olive-buff. Av. size 62.5 x 45.5 (2.46 x 1.72). Season: June. 

General Range.—Breeds from the Aleutian Islands, northwestern Alaska, 
Great Slave Lake, and central Keewatin, south to northern North Dakota, and southern 
British Columbia; and, formerly at least, on Magdalen Islands, and on St. Clair Flats 
(in western Ontario). Winters from Maine to Florida and the Bahamas, and from the 
Aleutian Islands south to California; in the interior from Colorado and the Great 
Lakes to Texas. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident coastwise to 
Point Conception, less common or rare to San Diego. Occurs also occasionally in the 
interior, chiefly at San Joaquin-Sacramento Valley points. 


Authorities.—Baird (Fulix marila), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 1858, p. 
791 (San Diego; San Francisco; Bodega); Nelson, Rep. Nat. Hist. Coll. Alaska, 1887, 
p. 71 (habits; nest and eggs; Alaska); Willett, Pac- Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 25 
(status in s. Calif.). 


THE RARITY of maria, as compared with affinis, in southern 
waters, invites incessant scrutiny of a group which otherwise would be 
set down as ‘“‘just ducks.”’ Roughly speaking marila decreases in numbers 
from Puget Sound southward; so, while it is of fairly regular occurrence 
on the bays and coastal waters of western California, its occurrence any- 
where south of Point Conception is deemed worthy of special notice. 
Indeed, reports of Greater Scaups seen in this section must be taken with 
a grain of allowance, unless accompanied by explicit mention that Lesser 
Scaups were at hand for comparison. 

Nesting, as they do, in Alaska and the northern interior, we know 
the Scaups only as late migrants and winter residents, more or less un- 
comfortable, according to the amount of local gun-fire. They keep rather 
more to open water than do their lesser kinsmen. 

At a northern station, namely, Semiahmoo Spit, upon our inter- 
national boundary, I have seen the assembling of clans which must later 
distribute themselves’ more widely, and dribble out down our western 
coast. The earlier arrivals come in small flocks of from a dozen to twenty- 
five individuals, borne upon the wings of a northwest breeze, and as they 
pass the narrow promontory of sand, the waiting gunners exact toll of 
those which enter the harbor. Upon the waters of an inner bay, Drayton 
Harbor, the incoming birds assemble in a great raft, five or ten thousand 
strong, and, if undisturbed, deploy to dive in shallow water, feeding not 
only upon the eel-grass itself, but upon the varied forms of life which 
shelter in its green fastnesses. 

It is not uninteresting to watch a small platoon of these somewhat 


ISOS 


The Greater Scaup Duck 


prosaic fowls at supper. They spend as much time as possible below, and 
when they are well assured of safety, they excuse themselves one by one, 
till not a soul remains in sight, not even a lookout. Then one emerges, 
then another, until the whole company is reassembled to compare notes 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 
BLUEBILLS AND COOTS 


on their luck, or to disappear again in one, two—thirty order, after their 
lungs are re-charged with air. 

About half an hour before sunset, as though by some preconcerted 
signal, a grand exodus takes place. Flock joins flock as the birds rise 
steadily against the wind. Mindful of their former experience, the 
ducks attain a height of two or three times that at which they entered 
the harbor and, strong in the added confidence of numbers, the serried 
host, some forty companies abreast, sweeps over the spit in unison—a 
beautiful and impressive sight. Some five minutes later, a second move- 
ment of a similar nature is organized by half as many birds remaining; 
while a third wave, containing only a hundred or so of laggards, leaves 
the harbor destitute of Scaups. 

Before the advent of the white man, the Indians had methods of 
their own for obtaining these abundant fowls in wholesale quantities. 
According to Suckley, long nets were stretched from pole to pole along 
these narrow sand-spits just before the evening exodus, and the birds, not 
having been molested upon entering their feeding grounds, fell easy victims 


1S09 


The Lesser Scaup Duck 


as they endeavored to breast the spit at sunset. Fire hunting was also a 
favorite method. The ducks, at rest upon the water after nightfall, and 
dazzled by the glare of a light at the bow of a canoe, allowed themselves 
to be clubbed or speared by the unseen foe. 

Scaups have never been in great demand as market ducks. Even in 
the heyday of San Francisco restaurant life, they used to sell as low as a 
dollar a dozen wholesale. In the fall when they are grass-fed and fat, they 
are not such bad eating, but as the season advances the birds depend more 
and more upon a diet of shell-fish gleaned from the bottom of the bay, to- 
gether with a liberal admixture of more or less “‘rich’”’ mud. As a result, 
the flavor of a Bluebill in February discourages repetition. 


No. 359 


Lesser Scaup Duck 


A. O. U. No. 149. Marila affinis (Eyton). 

Synonyms.—LesseEr Scaup. LitrLE BLACKHEAD. BLUEBILL, (ETC., sharing 
names applied to preceding form). 

Description.—-Adult male: Similar to preceding, but smaller; the head not 
glossed with green,—violet or purplish instead. Adult female: Distinguishable from 
that of M. marila only by smaller size. Length 381-431.8 (15.00-17.00); wing 203.2 
(8.00); tail 58.4 (2.30); bill 41.9 (1.65); tarsus 35.6 (1.40). 

Recognition Marks.—See preceding species; smaller. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A slight depression in ground 
in heavy grass, near water, lined scantily with grass-stems and trash and plentifully 
with down. Down: Brownish dusky with obscure whitish centers. Eggs: 6-10; 
pale greenish olive-buff (dull yellowish glaucous) to light grayish olive. Av. size 
56.5 x 39.5 (2.22 x 1.56); index 70. Season: June. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds from the Yukon Valley and northern 
Mackenzie south to northern Washington, southern Montana, Colorado, northern 
Iowa, northern Indiana, and northern Ohio. Winters on the Pacific Coast from 
British Columbia, interiorly from Colorado and the Great Lakes; and on the Atlantic 
Coast from New Jersey south to the Lesser Antilles, the Gulf Coast, and Panama. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant migrant and winter resident, chiefly 
coastwise, but also wherever open water offers. _Non-breeding stragglers are found in 
summer; and the species has bred on the reservoirs of San Francisco County. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Fuligula mariloides), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
2, 1., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); McAtee, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Circular no. 81, 
I9II, pp. 1, 8 (food); J. Mailliard, Condor, vol. xvil., 1915, p. 235 (breeding in Golden 
Gate Park, San Francisco). 


POSSIBLY the Creator may love the Lesser Scaup Duck, because 
He has made a great many of them. At any rate, mediocrity seems to be 


ISTO 


Lesser Scaups 


From a photograph by the Author 
Taken on Stow Lake 


The Lesser Scaup Duck 


the mark of the breed, and their instincts are even more commonplace 
than their appearance. Any one who has seen them gather in excited mobs 
to contest with the gulls the flotsam of outfall sewers, as at Santa Barbara 
or Hyperion, will scarcely inquire why they are absent from the bill of 
fare at the 


game din- SRL SERN Ia CB a WL a a To 


ner. The 
[Eensi sie or 
Si@aiuipieus 
welcome, for 
allil Ost wis, 
E® imnmelk 


around in all 
the brackish 


ponds and = 

backyard 

puddles of = ~ = 

Our coast. Taken on Stow Lake, San Francisco Photo by the Author 
54 LESSER SCAUPS 

IBWwem Aine TWO FEMALES, LEFT; TWO MALES, RIGHT 


mated scav- 
engers are more pleasant to the eye than bobbing tin cans or stranded 
shoes. But as a candidate for table honors, nevaztre. 

The Lesser Scaups are very much more abundant in the South than 
their larger kinsmen. They are more largely represented on bodies of 
fresh water, and, by the same token, a little less given to off-shore duty. 
They are more venturesome, or more confiding, and they explore all 
available shallows, while their cousins are likely to be diving in deep 
waters. At resting time, however, they have the same habit of crowding 
thickly together upon open water, “‘rafting,’’ and at such a time they may 
be thousands strong. If there is a bit of a breeze going, or if they are in 
dangerous territory, so that there is any likelihood of drifting ashore, the 
sleeping birds will keep up a leisurely motion with one foot, describing 
thereby little restful circles upon the water, all with the head tucked under 
wing, and thoughts in dreamland. 

No bird is quicker to avail itself of protection than the Bluebill. 
Wherever the laws forbid shooting from the wharves or upon the water- 
ways, there Scaups make themselves at home; and in those places where 
they are not even frightened, as by idle stone-throwers, they become 
almost as tame as domestic ducks. It goes without saying, then, that 
Scaups are the most unsuspicious beneficiaries of such protected areas 
as Eastlake and Westlake Parks in Los Angeles, or Lake Merritt in Oak- 
land. Thousands of these birds take refuge on the last-named body of 


ISTL 


The Ring-necked Duck 


water, and their innocent gambols repay a hundredfold the self-denial 
practiced by Oakland’s citizens. On Stow Lake, Golden Gate Park, 
Scaups crowd up with Mud-hens to snatch tidbits from the proffered 
hand; and instances are cited where Lesser Scaups, presumably wing- 
tipped birds, unable to perform the northern migrations, have remained 
to breed, both on Lake Merced and on Stow Lake. These have brought 
off chicks a thousand miles south of any other known breeding station, but 
whether they have succeeded in bringing their young to maturity under 
such trying circumstances, we do not know. 


No. 360 


Ring-necked Duck 


A. O. U. No. 150. Marila collaris (Donovan). 


Description.—Adult male: Head and neck sooty and lustrous black, with 
slight greenish and strong violet-purple iridescence; a short dense occipital crest; 
extreme chin white; a broad chestnut collar not clearly defined; fore-neck, breast, 
and upperparts, rich, deep, brownish black, glossed with purplish on the breast, with 
green on the longer scapulars and tertiaries, minutely dotted with white on the scap- 
ulars; lower breast and belly white, becoming purplish on crissum and flanks; a 
transverse bar of white on sides of breast continuous with underparts; sides 
minutely vermiculated dusky and white (as many as a hundred bars to the inch); 
wing-coverts grayish brown, becoming dull glossy green on posterior portion; speculum 
ashy gray tipped with brownish dusky, and bordered interiorly with bluish gray of 
outer tertials; axillars and lining of wings white. Bill black, narrowly pale bluish at 
base, and crossed by band of same color near tip; feet dull blue with dusky webs; iris 
yellow. Adult female: Black of male replaced by brown,—dark umber brown on 
crown and upperparts, warm yellowish brown on breast and sides, paling on sides of 
head and neck to white on throat and whitish about base of bill; belly less clearly or 
extensively white; wing much as in male. Length 406.4-457.2 (16.00-18.00); av. of six 
males: wing 191.5 (7.54); tail 57.4 (2.26); bill 47.8 (1.88); tarsus 35.3 (1.39). Females 
somewhat smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Between Mallard and Teal size; short occipital crest? 
chestnut collar; white chin; transverse white bar on breast and wavy-barred sides of 
male serve to distinguish this bird from the other ‘‘Blackheads,”’ which it superficially 
resembles. Peculiar yellowish brown of sides distinctive for female. 

Nesting.— Nest: On the ground near grassy marshes or in tussock surrounded 
by water. Eggs: 6 to 12; olive-buff. Av. size 58 x 41 (2.28 x 1.61). Season: June. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds in the Pacific region from British 
Columbia to northern California; and in the interior from northern Alberta and northern 
Manitoba to the Dakotas, northern Iowa, and southern Wisconsin. Winters abun- 
dantly on the Gulf Coast, and from British Columbia, southern Illinois and New 
Jersey, south to Porto Rico and Guatemala. 

Distribution in California.—Rare winter resident, formerly much more 
common. Grinnell has listed fifteen records of occurrence, and I have recorded it 


TS8I2 


weter, and their mnocent gambols repay a hundredfold the self-denial 
peacticed by Oakland's citizens. On Stow -Lake, Golden Gate Park, 
Severs crime ip with Mud-hens. to snatch tidbits from the proffered — 
Hane: aul instances are cited where Lesser Scaups, presumably wing~ 
meyer twede, unable to perform the northern migrations, have remained 
“:, pies, both on Lake Merced and on Stow Lake. These have brought 
oof Aces 4 Vaoussnd miles south of any other known breeding station, but 
hate beve succeeded in bringing their young to maturity under 
“eireetances, we do not know. o.8 


Ro, 360 
Ring-necked Duck 


ee 4 jan Maris eelfaris (Donovan). 
teenpstption.—~ duit wick; Mead and’ neck ‘sooty and lustrous black, with 
Se i, ag violet-parple: irilescence; a short dense occipital crest; 
siadt chestnut collar nat clearly defined; fore-neck, breast, 


a ah 


travisverse bar of) white oa sideskgl Sbreast continuous with underparts; sides | 
: 


minmnicty versyicyiated dasky aad x 


wing-coverts gavish brawn, becomiga ddl glossy green on posterior portion; speculum 
ashy gray tipped with leownish deekyjsand bordered interiorly with bluish gray of — 
auter terials: uxiliars and Heine ao white. Bill black, narrowly pale bluish at 
hase, aid crossed by band of same Gddor Hear tip; feet-dull blue with dusky webs; iris | 
yellow, Adali femaic: Tack of wnge-geplaced by brown,—dark umber brown om 
cian ned sppecaets. wars yelion tah Brown on breast and sides, paling on sides of 
head and seck 16 white on (host 2) Mhitish about base of bill; belly less clearly or ~ 
extensively whbies wite jouw Ws ioe ise Length 406.4-457.2 (16.00-18.00); av. of six 
aaa: Wing Wyle ip Rely Sal Spd (PG, tall 47.8 (1.88); tarsus 35.3 (1.39). Females — 
3 


amieas sia ety 


Rakes «-~ Teiert Faltard and Teal size; short occipital crest? 
fig oh ckvaveorse wblve bar on breast and wavy-barred sides of 


« the other ‘Blackheads,’’ which it superficially — 
§ ies distinctive for female. Dae 
“of gear geassy marshes or in tussock surrounded : 
ie size S8 x 4h (2.28 x 1.61). Season: June,” 
sss, -Breeds in the Pacific region from British 
is ihe ieperier from northern Alberta and northe 
Manche. 2 ieee eee. wed southern Wisconsin. Winters abun- 
deny on the Salt Copah,. 27 we Petich Celambia, southern Mlinois and. New 
ferses, suwth th Pores Mam anel Coetieraig, ; ; aan 
iMareitutien bs Clailferdia-~Raze sinter resident, formerly much \mor 
nomenon, Cudunetll has feted fifteen records of eceurrence, and 1 have retorded W 


"Genera! Renee 


he - fae, 


rBre 


The Ring-necked Duck 


nine times at Santa Barbara (Nov. 4 to Jan. 4). Has bred at Eagle Lake, and probably 
elsewhere in the northeastern plateau region. 


Authorities.—Henshaw (Fuligula collaris), Rep. Orn. Wheeler Surv., 1877, p. 
1321 (Lake Tahoe); Sheldon, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 187 (Eagle Lake, breeding); 
Hollister, Auk, vol. xxxvi., 1919, p. 460 (crit.; syst.). 


AN AIR OF romantic mystery still haunts the appearance of this 
bird, which is persistently rated one of the rarities of California duckdom. 
Western bird-lovers for the most part understand that it is a privilege 
even to see a bird of this species, however fleetingly; but it is a bit pedantic 
in the authors of ““Game Birds of California’ to speak of “more than 
fifteen different records,’’ when Sheldon found them breeding in numbers 
on Eagle Lake in Lassen County, and Belding had shot specimens re- 
peatedly and rated it “fairly common” in central California. I saw a 
small flock, usually of seven individuals, for five successive winters in a 
certain cove of Laguna Blanca near Santa Barbara; but this refuge was 
deserted immediately after its unfortunate desecration by gun-fire, Dec. 
6, 1914. Only once thereafter, viz., on Dec. 26, 1914, did this species, to 
my knowledge, put in even a momentary appearance. 

The center of the Ring-neck’s abundance in the breeding season lies 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
WHERE THE RING-NECKS USED TO WINTER 


TSI3 


The American Golden-eye 


between northern Minnesota or Dakota and Athabasca Lake. A second- 
ary breeding range occurs in the Upper Sonoran trough between the 
Sierro-Cascade and Rocky Mountain System. From the former area the 
birds retire in winter to the Gulf Coast, where they are rated locally as 
the most abundant duck. From the intra-mountain area the birds, pre- 
sumably, retreat to the lakes of Mexico, leaving only a tithe of their 
very modest numbers to cross the low divides of northeastern California 
in a normal southerly direction. 

The Ring-necked Duck bears a general resemblance to the Lesser 
Scaup, with which also it occasionally mingles. 

Unlike the Scaup, it is never seen in large flocks, seldom in companies 
of above a dozen or twenty individuals, and single birds are more fre- 
quently encountered than in the case of any other species. The bird 
shuns the open water, so much frequented by Blue-bills, and is seldom or 
never seen on salt water, not even on the tide-water marshes. In flight 
the individuals of a flock scatter widely, and they are likely to become 
still further separated as they feed in the rushes and deeper growth of the 
swamps and interior lakes. Here they subsist upon crayfish, snails, 
frogs, insects, and the various sorts of seeds which drop into the water 
from overhanging vegetation. 

When surprised, the Ring-neck rises upon softly whistling wings, and 
beats a rapid retreat, while you notice the loose occipital feathers, ruffled 
by fear into a bushy crest, and observe that there is no white on the head, 
to cause confusion with other crested species. 

Of the possible breeding of the bird within the confines of this State, 
we have only the brief statement! of Mr. Harry H. Sheldon, who visited 
Eagle Lake in late June, 1905: ‘‘Many seen in pairs, or old with young; 
always close to shore and not as shy as other ducks; inhabits the lake 
margins where many dead trees lie in the water. Often seen perched on 
limbs of dead pines above the water.”’ 


No. 361 


American Golden-eye 


A. O. U. No. 151. Glaucionetta clangula americana (Bonaparte). 

Synonyms.—GOoLDEN-EYE. \WHISTLER. GARROT. 

Description.—Adult male: Head and upper neck black, with a greenish gloss 
above and on sides; a circular white spot at base of upper mandible on side, but not 
reaching upper angle of bill; lower neck all around, underparts, the middle and greater 


1 Condor, Vol. IX., Nov., 1907, p. 189. 


18T4 


The American Golden-eye 


wing-coverts, the inner secondaries, and outer scapulars, centrally, pure white; remain- 
ing upperparts black, the white scapulars being black-bordered, and the feathers of 
sides similarly black-bordered along upper margin of the region, and on the lower 
margin of the elongated posterior feathers; lower belly mottled with dusky. Bill 
black; feet orange with dusky webs and claws; iris orange-yellow. Adult female: 
Head deep snuff-brown, without white spot; the color not reaching so far down on the 
neck as black of male; remaining black of male generally replaced by grayish dusky; 
sides of breast, chest, and sides more or less overlaid, or underlaid, with the same; 
white of wing interrupted by dusky gray, mostly confined to inner secondaries and 
adjacent tertiaries. Bill varied with orange. Young male: Like adult female, but 
darker and with increasing indications of loral white spot. Adult male length 457.2- 
584.2 (18.00-23.00); wing 233.7 (9.20); tail 88.9 (3.50); bill along culmen 34.3 (1.35); 
bill from frontal angle to tip 48.3 (1.90); depth of upper mandible from frontal angle 
to tomia 23.4 (.92); from anterior margin of white spot to anterior angle of nostril 
24.1 (.95); from anterior angle of nostril to tip of bill 20.3 (.80); tarsus 38.1 (1.50). 
Female length about 419.1 (16.50); other dimensions proportionately smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size; black and white coloration; round white 
spot at base of bill on side; bright yellow eyes. 

Nesting.— Nest: In hollow or decayed tree or stub, lined with grass and 
down. Eggs: 6 to 15; dull greenish gray (between mineral-gray and tea-green). 
Av. size 59.7 x 43.2 (2.35 x 1.70). Season: May 10—-June 20; one brood. 

Range of Glaucionetta clangulan>—Northern Hemisphere, breeding in Arctic and 
sub-Arctic regions; wintering south to Persia, northern India, Japan, and Mexico. 

Range of G. c. americana.—Breeds from central Alaska, northern Mackenzie, 
central Keewatin, northern Ungava, and Newfoundland, south to northern tier of 
states. Winters from the Aleutians, Utah, Nebraska, Minnesota, and the northern 
tier of eastern states south to Florida, central Mexico, and southern California. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident, chiefly coast- 
wise. Rare south to Point Conception. Numerous interior ‘‘records,’’ but these 
in themselves indicative of rarity. 

Authorities.—Baird (Bucephala americana), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 
1858, p. 796 (Bodega; San Francisco); Lamb, Condor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 34 (Mohave 
Desert); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 25 (status in s. Calif.). 


OF ALL wing-music, from the droning of the Rufous Hummer to the 
startling whirr of the Ruffed Grouse, I know of none so thrilling sweet as 
the whistling wing-note of the Golden-eye. A pair of the birds have been 
frightened from the water, and as they rise in rapid circles to gain a view 
of some distant goal, they sow the air with vibrant whistling sounds. 
Owing to a difference in wing-beats between male and female, the brief 
moment when the wings strike in unison with the effect of a single bird 
is followed by an ever-changing syncopation, which challenges the waiting 
ear to tell if it does not hear a dozen birds instead of only two. Again, 
in the dim twilight of early morning, while the birds are moving from a 
remote and secure lodging place to feed in some favorite stretch of wild 
water, one guesses at their early industry from the sound of multitudinous 
wings above, contending with the cold ether. 


TST5 


The American Golden-eye 


The American Golden-eye is of fairly regular but not frequent occur- 
rence in the coastal waters of California as far southas Monterey. From 
that point southward its appearance is noteworthy, but we have seen it at 
Santa Barbara, and there are several Los Angeles County records. These 
birds are lovers of clear water and dashing spray, hence the marshes and 
“evaporating pans”’ of our great central valleys have small attraction for 
them. Our mountain lakes doubtless would claim their attention in win- 
ter, if they did not persist in freezing over. And we cannot but speculate 
upon the reason for their total absence from these lakes in summer, since 
the birds are very tolerant of cold, and nest under quite similar circum- 
stances in British Columbia or northern Washington. 

Golden-eyes associate in small flocks, usually of not more than eight 
or ten individuals; and because of the prominence of their snowy plumage 
they find themselves obliged to maintain a wary lookout wherever found. 
The birds, the males at least, ride high upon the water, yet they dive with 
extraordinary ease and wrest most of their living from the depths. On 
salt water the birds venture up on shore as often as they dare, and it is to be 
feared that they are not fastidious in the matter of their food. Mussels, 
crabs, and marine worms are commonly eaten, and that bugaboo of north- 
ern beaches, the decayed salmon, is also greedily devoured, so that the 
birds are usually unfit for culinary consideration. 

Though not a breeding bird of California, our interest in the Golden- 
eye’s family life will have been aroused by the extraordinary antics of 
courtship which are incidental to late winter. After the male has bobbed 
and wheezed and thrown his head backward in violent protestations, a re- 
ciprocal passion is confessed, and the pair sets off for some sheltered lakelet 
of the North where timber abounds. A cavity in a decaying stump or an 
old woodpecker’s hole, necessarily that of the Pileated Woodpecker for so 
large a tenant, is chosen, and the bottom of the hole, whether near or 
remote, is filled with eggs. According to Brewster, these are often piled 
in two layers or set on end, ‘“‘packed in so closely that it is as difficult to 
remove the first as to take a book from a tightly filled shelf.”” But these 
are cushioned as well as buried in an abundance of light gray down. The 
down coverlet is drawn closely over as often as the female is obliged to 
absent herself for food, and no harm comes to the eggs even in the sharp 
air of northern Alberta. 

When the youngsters are hatched they are either allowed to spill 
out upon the ground, or into the water, if the nest is so fortunately placed; 
or else they are transported upon the back of the mother bird, clutch- 
ing tightly at the ruffled feathers of the neck with their tiny bills. Or 
else—testimony is explicit upon this point—the chicks are picked up 
and carried by the maternal beak. Or else—this sounds fishy, and I 


TSIO 


the American flolden-eve 


° Be Aewetnan Goldeneye is of fairly regular but not frequent oceur- — 
conga: tan Ess enuseal waters of California as far south as Monterey. From — 
Pkt OFA coutieata 1s appearance is noteworthy, but we have seen it at 
Meena Hserbara, and Were are several Los Angeles County records. These 
hehe Gre overs oi iedr water and dashing spray, hence the marshes and 
en meaee pans ob oT great central valleys have small attraction for 
oe ‘pie tees doubtless would claim their attention in win- 
sgermted inv feeezing over. And we cannot but speculate, © 
uc tw hots fecal almence from these lakes im summer, since — 
. Sveeuet, of etd, and west under quite similar circum- 
+. @erthern Washington. } 
wall Hocks, usually of not more than eight 
nan os the prominence of their snowy plumage 
so ynvatatein a wary lookout wherever found. 
de high upon the water, yet they dive with 
«: of their living from the depths. One 
shore as often as they dare, and itis to be — 
Yeus in the matter of their food. Mussels, — 
sre commonly eaten, and that bugaboo of north= 
Ave ved salmon. is also greedily devoured, so that the — 
ynst foe culimagy gonsideration. 
, breectitng bird Bi California, our interest in the Golden- 
have beengarpused by the extraordinary antics of 
« inedental tBlaze winter, After the male has bobbed ~ 
‘hrawn his hede b§ckward in violent protestations, a re, 
sees, atub@h@ pair sets off for some sheltered lakelet 
tor abouts] A cavity in a decaying stump or am 
aocesaary. an of the Pileated Woodpecker for so” 
and Hesbottom of the hole, whether near.or 
feces to Brewster, these are often piled 
_ “packed in so closely that it is as difficult to — 
nook Goma tightly filled shelf.” But these - 
st ian an almendance of light gray down. The 
aver as often as the female is obliged to ” 
« comes to the eggs even in the sharp 


‘chet they are either allowed to spill. 
eater. if the nest is so fortunately placed, 
an back of the mother bird, clutch- 

= rhe aeck with their tiny bills. OF 

« weintcthe chicks are picked up 

fo» -lse-this sounds fishy, and 4 


The Barrow Golden-eye 


profess my own scepticism—the youngsters are transported upon the 
parents’ feet. 

The imagination cannot but follow the adventures of children so 
romantically cradled and so magically whisked about by fairy flying car- 
pets (whatever the precise method of attachment thereto). If we had to be 
a duck, we would elect to have golden eyes and to chase mischievous water 
bugs through limpid icy pools, while nodding little fir trees looked on and 
applauded. I am sure, too, that clangula’s bright-eyed offspring do enjoy 
their youthful hours. A group of four which we sighted on a lake of 
northern Washington! were no sooner made out than they paddled over in 
our direction, as curious as we were. When their curiosity was satisfied, 
the jolly quartette resumed their interrupted sport, which seemed to con- 
sist of a spirited game of tag. Now the ducklings splashed and floundered 
over the surface of the water, and now they took wing, circling the valley 
half a dozen times in breathless pursuit. After this they returned sud- 
denly to plunge into the water, and so carried on the unending chase in 
its emerald depths—all as happy as children in grandpa’s old barn. 


No. 362 


Barrow’s Golden-eye 


A. O. U. No. 152. Glaucionetta islandica (Gmelin). 
Synonyms.—WHIsTLER. GaArRROT. Rocky MouNTAIN GARROT. 


Description.—Adult male: Similar to preceding species, but gloss of head 
strongly blue-black or purplish; a triangular loral white spot continuous with .base of 
bill on sides and exceeding it above and below; white wing-patch crossed by transverse 
bar of black; and white of scapulars somewhat less extensive; tip of bill surrounding 
nail orange. Adult female: Presenting only trifling differences from that of the pre- 
ceding species; bill of slightly different proportions, averaging stubbier and with 
slightly broader nail; the tips of the greater coverts blackish. Size of preceding, but 
averaging nearer the larger dimensions. Upper mandible from frontal angle to edge 
of tomia 23.4 (.92); from anterior margin of white spot to anterior angle of nostril 
22.4 (.88); from anterior angle of nostril to tip of bill 16.3 (.64)—male. Similar 
dimensions of female: 19.8 (.78); 19.1 (.75); 17.8 (.70). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size; black and white coloration; triangular, 
or open-wing-shaped white spot at base of bill on side; head with purplish gloss. 
Female like preceding,—distinguishable with certainty only by blackish tips of greater 
coverts. 

Nesting.— Vest: In “spouts” or other hollows of trees, lined with grass and 
trash and white down. Eggs: 6 to 14; greenish gray (between mineral-gray and tea- 
green). Av. size 62-7 x 43 (2.47 x 1.71). Season: June. 


1 These may very possibly have been voung Barrow Golden-eyes (G. islandica). 


S17 


The Barrow Golden-eye 


General Range.—Northern North America and Iceland. Breeds from south 
central Alaska and northwestern Mackenzie, south in the mountains to northern 
California and Colorado, and from northern Ungava (and occasionally Greenland) 
south to central Quebec. Winters along the coast from southeastern Alaska to Cali- 
fornia, and from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to New England; in the interior keeps to 
the edge of the ice line or well within it. Casual in Europe. 


Distribution in California.—Rare winter visitor at the lower levels south at 
least to San Francisco Bay. Probably an occasional breeder in the high Sierras (the 
Grand Cirque, extreme northern Fresno County, June 29, 1919). 

Authorities.—Henshaw (Bucephala islandica), Rep. Orn. Wheeler Surv., 1876, 
p. 274 (San Francisco markets); Littlejohn, Condor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 41 (Redwood 
City); Brooks, Auk, vol. xxxvii., 1920, p. 356, pls. and figs. (criteria for distinguishing 
Clangula islandica). 


THE DISTRIBUTION of Barrow’s Golden-eye is very singular and 
is still imperfectly understood. Coinciding in large measure with that of 
G. clangula americana, it nevertheless exhibits such eccentric departures, 
that we cannot determine from its present outlines where the species 
originated, or when or how it encountered the rival form. For example, 
islandica breeds commonly in Iceland and, more sparingly, in the Rocky 
Mountains as far south as southern Colorado, and in the Cascades to 
central Oregon. Both species press the limit of trees upon the north, 
and are restrained therein only by their common necessity of hollow trees 
large enough for nesting purposes. Again, if anything, the Barrow’s 
Golden-eye is a little the hardier of the two, and scarcely deserts its 
southern breeding range before the oncoming of winter. Its appearance, 
therefore, in central California is decidedly out of the ordinary, being 
determined apparently by unusually severe conditions in the northern 
interior. 

Barrow’s Golden-eye is one of the wariest of ducks. It shares with 
loons and grebes all the traditions of being able to dive at the flash 
of a gun; and the ease with which it can maintain itself in the midst 
of a comparatively hostile country is a tribute to both its agility and 
astuteness. 

While the bird’s rarity in this State precludes our further considera- 
tion, it is not at all impossible that zs/andica may yet be recorded as a 
breeder upon some of our higher lakes. In support of this speculation, 
in which also the authors! of ‘‘Game Birds of California’ join me, I can 
only cite the case of a bird observed June 30, 1919, upon one of the tiny 
ice-bound lakes of the Grand Cirque (alt. 11,000 ft.) in extreme north- 
eastern Fresno County. The bird was a female, or else a male in eclipse 
plumage (if there is such a thing in this species). 


! Messrs. Grinnell, Bryant and Storer; see ‘‘Game Birds of California,” p. 176. 


ISIS 


* axincel Roaiee—-Nerthern North America and Vestavia! Breeds from aia 
ea) sorciwcuiera Mackenzie, south in the mountains to northern — 
ferie. eed fron: northern Ungava (and occasionally Greenland) — 
“tee. Wisrers sianw the coast from southeastern Alaska to Cali- 
eon dey TC af Ad. Lawrence te New England; in the interior keeps to- > 
AB iil Mets sang! wey g7mne i. Casualin Europe, Mil 
Ras late, te Pe eccpininl Rare winter visitor at the ee revels south Pao 
i 4; sy at eccastonal breeder in the high Sierras ne 
County, Tune 29, 1919). : 
iMandice}, Rep. Orn. Wheeler Surv., 1876, 
oie, Sandor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 41 (Redwood 
as*, als. and figs. (criteria for distinguishing ~~ 


ot Pigrrew's Gelden-eye is very singular and 
« eiaciding in large measure with that of © 
+ @heiess exhibits such eccentric departures, 
‘oom its present outlines where the species — 
ae <aalonmchagibesr the rival form. For example, 


Wh ay BO iiliede ¢ loc dey and in the Cascades to 
i; yyccles press Phe limit of trees upon the north, 
sat vatty by the common necessity of hollow trees 
svite purposes. wigain, if anything, the Barrow’s 
eo Merle the hardietepl gthe two, and scarcely deserts its” 
e ie rengu before theSmBoming of winter. Its appearance, 
» cankieoe Cwlitorsia vay fever out of the ordinary, being 


fy LAist ree conditions in the nO ner 
okt 28 Oe oP wariest of ducks, It shares with 
traditions af being able to dive at the flash 
hs which is can maintain itself in the midst — 
Ua ier tribute to both its agility and ~— 


Ssare precludes our further considera- 
iver istemdica may yet be recorded asa 
-lekes. In support of this speculation, — 

« Hirds of California’ join me, I can - 
more Pane 30, 1919, upon one of the tiny — 
sega (akt. 11,000 ft.) in extreme north- ~~ 
was @ female, or else a male in eclipse 
ePeis REL IES Ne 


Uitte eae, ormia,” ps 27. 


& AP POF 
ay oe a7 > 277 
ina > 

Da ee ts ale 

nent it ee : 

<a serene ? 


The Buffle-head 
No. 363 


Buffle-head 


A. O. U. No. 153. Charitonetta albeola (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—BUTTER-BALL. SPIRIT DUCK. 

Description.—Adult male: Feathers of head puffy, somewhat lengthened 
along crest and nape; head and upper neck black, sooty below, with brilliant violet, 
purple, steel-blue, and bronze-green metallic reflections; a broad white space from eye 
to eye around occiput; back, inner scapulars and tertiaries with touches on coverts 
and some narrow bordering on the outer scapulars and upturned side-feathers glossy 
black; upper tail-coverts and tail ashy gray; remaining plumage, including a broad 
collar around neck, white; belly silky or washed with pale gray. Bill dull bluish with 
dusky nail and base; feet flesh color, with black claws; iris brown. Adult female: 
Head and neck mouse-brown, darker on crown, lighter on throat; a dull white patch 
below and behind eye; speculum narrowly white; reminiscences of white coverts of 
male in shape of two or three central spots on greater coverts; remaining plumage 
above, grayish dusky, below silky white, shading on sides and hind-neck. Length 
355-6-387-4 (14.00-15.25); av. of six males: wing 169.4 (6.67); tail 74.4 (2.93); bill 27.9 
(1.10); tarsus 33.3 (1.31). Females smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; plumage extensively white; head black, with 
large sharply-defined patch of white from eye to eye behind. Similar spot much 
reduced, distinctive for female. Expert diver. 

Nesting.— Nest: In hollow of tree or stump or in tunnel of earth-bank; lined 
with grasses and down. Eggs: 6 to 12; creamy white or ivory-yellow. Av. size 
50.8 x 36.8 (2.00 x 1.45). Season: c. May 20; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds from the Upper Yukon, northern 
interior Mackenzie, and central Keewatin, south to northern Washington, northern 
Montana, and central Ontario. Winters from the Aleutian Islands, Idaho, Colorado, 
Missouri, southern Michigan, Lake Erie, and New Brunswick, south to northern 
Lower California, Jalisco, and Florida. Casual in Hawaii, Bermuda, Greenland, 
and Europe. 

Distribution in California.—Winter resident, chiefly coastwise, and diminish- 
ing in numbers southerly. In the interior chiefly confined to the lower-lying lakes and 
reservoirs. Also sparingly resident in summer at least on Eagle Lake. 

Authorities.—Vigors (Clangula albeola), Zool. Voy. ‘‘Blossom,”’ 1839, p. 32 (San 
Francisco); Brooks, Auk, vol. xx., 1903, p. 279 (nesting habits; British Columbia) ; 
Dixon, Condor, vol. xxiii., 1921, p. 165 (Eagle Lake, Lassen Co., breeding). 


CONSISTENCY is a jewel which no sportsman possesses. We go 
forth to slay, but murder is not in our hearts. We kill to eat, but we are 
not hungry; nor should we ever be in these days of plenty, if our guns 
were wholly turned to rust. No; shooting is only our crude way of try- 
ing to get acquainted with the children of Nature; and we shall outgrow 
it some day, just as our ancestors outgrew the custom of shooting mem- 
bers of another clan at sight. And we shall outgrow it for precisely the 


ISTO 


The Buffle-head 


same reason. We shall learn that the other fellow is more interesting 
to us alive than dead—so much more interesting that it is really worth 
our while to make overtures of friendship. 

If any sight in nature could disarm the powder-lust, it would be 
that of a half dozen Buffleheads dancing upon the sun-kissed waters 
of some southern lagoon. Dapper, jaunty, bright-eyed, elegant, and 
altogether charming are these dainty duck children. Their white 
breasts gleam in the sun, and they ride so high in the water that they 
seem more like fluffs of floating cotton than creatures of avoirdupois. 
If that captivating drake, now, would only let us handle him, we should 
be perfectly satisfied. We would cuddle him in our arms, and stroke 
his puffy cheeks of rainbow hue, or give a playful tweak to his saucy little 
nose. But he does not fully appreciate our benevolent attitude; he does 
not immediately reciprocate our desire to fondle him—therefore, we will 
give him the left barrel. 

“The Bufflehead flies with notable speed, vibrating its wings with 
great rapidity, and usually travels close to the water. When alight- 
ing on the water, it does so with a big splash, considering the size of 
the bird, and ploughs through the water for some little distance before 
its momentum is completely arrested. It associates in pairs, or flocks 
of small size. Flocks do not fly in regular formation, as is the habit 
with some ducks, but the individual members bunch closely together, 
each disregarding the position of its companion. A deep guttural note 
is sometimes given when on the wing, but more often the birds fly with- 
out uttering any sound whatsoever.’’-—(Game Birds of California). 

Buffleheads are found in considerable numbers along our coasts, 
but there is a noticeable reduction in numbers from Monterey south- 
ward. To a lesser extent they are distributed over the inland waters, 
appearing at times upon the quiet reaches of some of our swiftest streams, 
or else resting upon some tiny millpond. Brackish pools and tide chan- 
nels, tide-flats, and the tossing billows of the open ocean, all are alike 
to. these happy and hardy little souls. Like the Scoters or Golden- 
eyes, the Buffleheads, tired of feeding in the kelp-beds or wresting a 
living from the combers, occasionally venture ashore, and at no time is 
a Bufflehead more engaging than when pattering over the sand with 
quick, agile steps, or when taking a running start down the slope of 
shingle. 

When they reach us in October the Buffleheads are as fat as butter 
(whence, of course, ‘‘Butterball’’), but they have gained their flesh on 
the cleaner feeding grounds of the northern interior. On a fare of fish 
and marine worms, which they obtain in salt water almost entirely by 
diving, their flesh soon becomes rank and unprofitable. 


1520 


The Buffle-head 


Naturally confiding and easily approachable in the fall, the Buffle- 
head soon acquires powder-experience, and gradually becomes the most 
difficult of all birds to kill. He will not only give the hunter a wide 
berth, but he will dive at the flash of a gun. He is clad, moreover, in 
a magic coat of mail, and his plumage appears to shed bullets as readily 
as it does water. No hunter but feels that the bird is a little uncanny, 
and he has his little collection of stories to back up his belief. For in- 


Taken in British Columbia Photo by Warburton Pike 
BUFFLEHEADS 


stance, from the vantage of a river bank and at close range, I once shot 
a drake Butterball seven times with ‘‘4’s’’—hit around him every time 
too, but did not learn the flavor of his flesh. Another, cut down in mid- 
air with 2’s, fell limp as any pigeon, but received magic restoration from 
the water, arose upon the instant, and flew away as though nothing had 
happened. And then, to cap the climax, if not killed outright at the first 
shot, the bird will commit suicide by drowning. On tide-flats, with 
never a ghost of a chance at concealment, we have seen birds dive and 
remain below, self-entangled in the eel-grass, until death by drowning was 
certain. This fact is well established, not only in the case of Buffleheads, 
but in that of many other ducks; and carcasses have been found in the 
eel-grass at low tide in bays which are much shot over. 

A spirited discussion has broken out lately as to whether the Buffle- 
head is or is not a breeding bird of California. On the 27th day of May, 
1921, Messrs. Ray, Labarthe, and Labarthe, Jr., observed a female Buffle- 
head on Eagle Lake which was leading about eight small young, and was 


T82T 


The Old-Squaw 


very distantly attended (or perhaps only sympathized with) by a male 
Bufflehead. Two of the ducklings became separated from their mother (?) 
and were later picked up and photographed. These, as pointed out by 
Major Brooks, prove to have been young of the American Merganser (Mer- 
gus merganser americanus), also a rare breeder in California. Apparently 
these waifs were hatched from eggs imposed upon the Bufflehead, and so 
when it came toa race for liberty they could not catch the pace and manner 
of their foster brethren. Anyhow, it is fairly clear that Buffleheads have 
been seen upon one of our larger lakes under suspicious circumstances.! 


t 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
A STUDY IN BLACK-AND-WHITE 


No. 364 


Old-squaw 


A, O. U. No. 154. Clangula hyemalis (Linnzus). 
Synonyms.—LoNG-TAILED DucCK. SOUTH-SOUTHERLY. OLD-WIFE. 


Description.—Adult male in winter: General plumage rich dark brown, 
or brownish black, and white; breast, broadly,—continuous with band around upper 
back—back, centrally,—to end of tail—wings (reddening on secondaries), and patches 
on sides of neck, brown; sides of head in front, including eyes, warm ashy gray, but 
eyelids white; superior scapulars elongated, reaching nearly to tip of wing, pale ashy 
white; sides ashy-tinged; axillars and lining of wings smoky brown; remaining plumage, 
including crown and throat and neck all around, white; tail graduated, the central 
pair of feathers much elongated, blackish, the lateral feathers short, white. Bill black, 
saddled with orange toward tip; feet bluish with dusky webs and claws; iris bright red. 
Adult male in breeding season: Head, neck, fore-breast, and upperparts rich chocolate 
brown or sooty black; fore-part of head silvery gray, whitening around and behind eye; 
back varied by rich fulvous or bright reddish on longer scapulars, etc.; lower breast 


1See Condor, Vol. XXIII., Sept., 1921, p. 165; Ib., Nov., p. 192; Vol. XXIV., Jan., 1922, p, 25 and Mar., p. 68. 


1822 


The Old-Squaw 


and upper belly dark sooty gray; below white shaded with pale gray on sides. Adult 
female in winter: Head and neck white; a dark brown patch on head and nape and 
another on side of neck; upperparts dusky or blackish, varied, especially on scapulars, 
with considerable light brown or ochraceous; fore-neck and breast light brown above, 
shading through gray into white of lower parts; tail sharply pointed, but central 
feathers not lengthened. Bill and feet dusky green; iris yellow. Adult female in 
breeding plumage: Similar to winter plumage, but head and upper neck dark grayish 
brown or blackish; a white space about eye and another on the side of the neck; scapu- 
lars with still more ochraceous. Young: Like adult female in winter, but more 
uniformly colored above, the males gradually acquiring the ashy scapulars. Adult 
male length 520.7-584.2 (20.50-23.00); wing 228.6 (9.00); tail 203.2-235 (8.00-9.25); 
bill 27.9 (1.10); tarsus 33.5 (1.32). Female somewhat smaller,—tail 63.5 (2.50). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size; white and sooty brown; head white with 
ashy and dark patches, or brown with grayish patch; tail (of male) greatly elongated; 
bill short, black and orange; face full. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground in tall grass or 
under bushes near water. Down: Dusky with whitish centers. Eggs: 5 to 7, 10 
of record; dull grayish green, or light olive-gray. Av. size 53 x 37 (2.09 x 1.46); index 
70. Season: June. 

General Range.—Northern Hemisphere, breeding chiefly within the Arctic 
Circle; south in winter to the Mediterranean, Caspian Sea, Lake Baikal, and northern 
Japan; and in America wintering from the Aleutians and the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
regularly to Washington, the Great Lakes and coast of North Carolina, occasionally 
to California, and rarely to the Gulf States and Florida. 

Occurrence in California.—A rare midwinter visitor coastwise. Records from 
most of our bays and harbors south to San Diego. 

Authorities.—Newberry ( Harelda glacialis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 104 (San Francisco); Stone, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1900, p. 20 (plumage 
change); Stephens, Condor, vol. xxii., 1920, p. 43 (San Diego). 


THOUGH HIS flight is graceful and strong, it is as a musician that 
the Long-tailed Duck enjoys preéminence. Of course the interpretation 
of music depends on both the culture and the mood of the listener. Fisher- 
folk, weary of their incessant racket, have called our birds Scolders, 
Aunt Huldys, Old-squaws, and other unpleasant things; but we bird- 
people are apt to bend an indulgent ear toward the efforts of our favorites, 
and especially in quarters where merit is unexpected and rare. Sunde- 
vall, the Swedish (?) naturalist, called the bird the Singing Duck, ‘‘be- 
cause its spring song is both sweet and sonorous.’ The birds are emi- 
nently sociable, and a company of twenty individuals, aroused to utterance 
at the same time, will raise a chorus which may be heard a mile away. 
The notes are mellow and resonant, but it may be conceded that they 
have something of a grumbling quality. O (nk) h-o (nk) h-leh, 0 (nk) h-o 
(nk) h-leh, o (nk) h-o (nk) h-leh may afford a suggestion of the trumpeting 
of a single individual; but when all are at it at once, the effect is indescrib- 
ably enhanced. 


S23 


q 


The Old-Squaw 


OLD-SQUAWS 


Says Mr. E. W. Nelson: “During all the spring season until the young 
begin to hatch the males have a rich musical note, frequently repeated in 
deep, reed-like tones. Amid the general hoarse chorus of waterfowl which 
is heard at this season, the notes of the Old-squaw are so harmonious that 
the fur traders of the upper Yukon have christened him the Organ Duck, 
a well-merited name. I have frequently stopped and listened with deep 
pleasure to these harmonious tones, while traversing the broad marshes 
in the dim twilight at midnight, and while passing a lonely month on the 
dreary banks of the Yukon delta, I lay in my blankets many hours at 
night and listened to these rhythmical sounds, which with few exceptions 
were the only ones to break the silence.” 

These notes, however, are not at all confined to the spring of the 
year, for they are used to express uneasiness at the presence of the hunter, 
as readily as ardor in love. If one has hostile intentions, it is easy to single 
out a chorus and row toward it, even though the birds are unseen. When 
seated upon the water these birds exhibit much white, and under certain 
weather conditions are not easily seen even at close quarters. It is useless 
to seek them as game, however, for they are expert divers, and as a con- 
sequence rank animal feeders. 


13824 


The Harlequin Duck 


More frequently than any other species, they are found entangled in 
fish-nets, whither they have gone in pursuit of finny prey; and upon the 
Great Lakes, where winter trapping is more common, they are sometimes 
taken dead in six fathoms of water. 


No. 365 


Harlequin Duck 


A. O. U. No. 155. Histrionicus histrionicus (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—Lorp anp Lapy. PAINTED Duck. Rock Duck. Mountain 
DUCK. 

Description.—Adult male: Prevailing color plumbeous slate tinged with 
purplish, darkening on head and neck, blackening on top of head, lower back, rump, 
and tail, changing on underparts behind breast (including lining of wings) to sooty 
brown, on flanks to lighter brown; plumage strikingly crossed and slashed with white; 
a large wing-shaped patch at base of bill produced above as lateral crown-stripe, where 
yielding to light chestnut posteriorly; a clear-cut rounded spot behind auriculars; 
lengthened patch on side of neck; a narrow transverse patch at base of neck on side, 
meeting its fellow, or not, in front and behind; a crescentic patch on side of breast 
before wing, the last two patches sharply defined by bordering black; a white spot 
on wing-coverts; a white bar across the ends of the greater coverts and some of the 
secondaries; scapulars and outer webs of the inner secondaries chiefly white; and, lastly, 
a small white patch on side of rump; speculum metallic violet or purplish. Bill blackish 
or horn-blue to olivaceous; irides reddish-brown; feet greenish-dusky with black webs. 
Perfect plumage is not acquired till the third season. Young males differ chiefly in 
the purity of the colors, those of the second season having some grayish brown edging 
on the wings, and flanks finely barred, light brown and fuscous. Adult female: Gener- 
al plumage plain dark brown, changing through brownish-gray of upperparts to whitish 
on belly. Of the white spots of the male only the two anterior ones are represented, 
and of these the facial patch is much obscured by brownish. Length of male 406.4- 
444.5 (16.00-17.50); wing 190.5 (7.50); tail 88.9 (3.50); bill 28.5 (1.12); tarsus 33 
(1.30). Female a little smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Teal to Crow size; plumbeous coloration with white 
stripes of male unmistakable; female obscure as to color, but following proportions of 
male, small bill, high at base, etc. 


Nesting.— Nest: In vicinity of wild mountain streams, under logs, tree-roots, 
drift, rocks, etc.; of weeds and grasses, lined with down. Down: MHair-brown with 
paler centers. Eggs: 6 to 10; cream-color to deep olive-buff. Av. size 58.4 x 40.6 
(2.30 x 1.60). Season: April-May; one brood. 

General Range.—Northern North America, Iceland, and eastern Asia. Breeds 
in Iceland and Greenland and along the Arctic Coast of America and Asia, and south to 
Newfoundland, central Mackenzie, etc.; and in the mountains south to Colorado, 
central California, Lake Baikal, and possibly the Ural Mountains. Occurs in summer 
in flocks near the Pribilov and Aleutian Islands and about the islands of the Straits 


1825 


The Harlequin Duck 


of Georgia and Washington Sound; less commonly among the Olympiades, and prob- 
ably along the entire coastline of California. Winters from the Aleutian Islands to the 
coasts of California and Japan, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence regularly to Maine, 
rarely to New Jersey, and casually to Florida; and in the interior of the United States 
along the ice-line. 

Distribution in California.—Irregular winter visitor and probable summer 
loafer (Santa Barbara, Aug. 2, 1914) coastwise; rare south of Monterey. Breeds spar- 
ingly in the mountains at least in the Tuolumne section of the central Sierras. 

Authorities.—Cassin ( Histrionicus torquatus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
xiv., 1862, p. 323 (Calif.); C. W. Michael and Enid Michael, Auk, vol. xxxix., 1922, p. 14, 
pls. (habits in Yosemite Valley); Grinnell, Condor, vol. xxiv., 1922, p. 180 (San Luis 
Obispo Co., southernmost record in Calif.). 


THE SCIENTISTS derive great satisfaction from their attempts 
to tell us why certain things are so and so, and we nod gravely from time 
to time in pretended comprehension; but there are matters which are 
better left to folk-lore. We can understand in a measure how the par- 
tridge came to look like dead leaves, and the snipe like dead grass, but who 
may say in terms of cold logic how the Harlequin acquired his fantastic 
livery? No; it must have been in this wise. The first Harlequin, before 
he was a Harlequin, that is, was of a nearly uniform slate color, with some 
relief of dull cinnamon. But, clad in this somber garb, folks mistook him 
for a coot, which were a misfortune indeed for such a dainty creature. 
Driven to desperation he sought out Mother Nature and begged to be 
retouched. This the good dame, being in a whimsical mood, consented 
to do. She seized a brush from the nearest pot of paint, which happened 
to be white, and gave her discontented subject, between fits of laughter, 
sundry daubs and slashes with it, ten to a side, sending him forth at the 
last a very—Harlequin. 

Seriously, it is difficult to detect the raison d'etre of this eccentric 
dress; yet it is barely possible that it does afford its owner an exact pro- 
tection among the turbulent, foam-flecked waters of its summer home. 
Certain it is that its bizarre habit has made the bird as frequent a subject 
for the taxidermist as its rarity has allowed. 

Rarity has indeed been the keynote of our apprehension of the Harle- 
quin in the West. Yet it is not at all certain that the Harlequin is so very 
rare, after all. Nesting, as it does, in the seclusion of the wildest mountain 
streams, from the central Sierras north to the Arctic coast, it has at least 
an enormous expanse of suitable nesting cover. So accurate, moreover, 
is the bird’s adaptation to these romantic conditions, that even the zealous 
student, invading the bird’s haunts in quest of information, may catch 
only a fleeting glimpse of this haunting shape or a flash of its equally 
fleeting progeny. One who has had such glimpses, and only such glimpses, 
soon comes to feel that there is more on foot in Harlequindom than he has 


1826 


tet femegio Aaa Washington Sound; less ne: among the Ghoncites and Bt as 
aay alg Ths ented casting of California. Winters from the Aleutian Islands to the 
ened a Cas 
PU es 


vin St Jajnen, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence regularly to Maine, s 
Hae Deut age] 2gsuatiy to Florida; and in the interior of the United States - 


bate aiton te fetiferdiac—tcregular winter visitor and probable summer 

2. 28 3. ¥O14) ceastwise; rare south of Monterey. ‘Breeds spar- 
{ie the Puolutane section of the central Sierras, ; 
siete ae forguatus), Proc, Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila.,)vol, 
and Badd Mectiel, Auk, vol. xxxix., 2922, p: 14, 
teanell, Louscar, vole RXiv., 1922, p.180 (San) Lis 


satisizetion from their attempts 
<>, ait we nod gravely from time 
iar there are matters which are 
orstand in a measure how the. par-. 
«1 the snipe like dead grass, but who 
noid lngic ow Une Harlequin acquired his fantastic 
must have been in this wise. The first Harlequin, before 
ve a Harlequin, that is, was of a nearly uniform slate color, with some 
‘tet ot dul cinnamon. But, clas in this somber garb, folks mistook him 
i# | Seat, which were a misfortune indeed for such a dainty creature. 
enn en te desperation he sought out Mother. Nature and begged to be 
fas erouched. This the good dame, being _ whimsical mood, consented - 
te din, She seized a bash dariequl equin Duc t of paint, which happened 
ty be white, and gave her disAbout#dife sizbject, between fits of laughter, 
meity daubs and slashes with i. ten to a side, sending him forth at the 
brit ob wety---Harlequin. 
Seviomsly, it is dificule to detect the razson d'etre of this eccentric | 
it js barely possiide thet # does afford its owner an exact pro- 
Siiong the turbodent, sin-flecked waters of its summer home: 
is ctiet 3 jas made the bird as frequent a subject 


hz ee 


. ie PRE allowed, 
: Bh Hie #2 of our apprebension of the Pree 
rt ae i: cevtam that the Harlequin is so very | 


; she coclusion of the wildest mountain 
*h iv “he Arctic coast, it has at least 
conver, So accurate, Maca: 


i es AS haunting ‘hape or a flash of its equ 1 
giana ies rit t sstantts at cea and only aie glimpaes 


The Harlequin Duck 


knowledge of. A baby Harlequin is as thoroughly at home in wild waters 
asa baby trout. The trout we may seduce with worm or fly, but until we 
have devised an equally interesting method for attracting young Harle- 
quins, our meetings are likely to be infrequent. 

How abundant these Harlequins must really be—somewhere,—I 
learned from a summer cruise in the waters of Puget Sound, or more ac- 
curately, Washington Sound, between northern Washington and British 
Columbia. Here, in June, I found the Harlequins, manifestly non-breed- 
ing birds, in astonishing numbers. Sometimes to the number of 500 at 
once we found them playing about the numerous rocks and islets of an ex- 
tensive archipelago. When surprised on such an occasion, the sound of the 
bird’s rising was like the sound of a storm upon the water. A precisely 
similar situation, we are told, exists about the islands in northern Alaskan 
waters,—the Shumagins, the Pribilovs, and the Aleutians; and, in fact, 
though to a very much lesser degree, down our own coast to Monterey. 

Yet these hosts are mere aggregations of summer idlers, non-breeders, 
immature birds—they do not attain full plumage until their third year, 
according to Coues—and aged adults. How much greater, therefore, 
must be the sum of those normal birds which contemporaneously are lost 
in the fastnesses of our western mountains! 

We found the summer crowd care-free and playful. Their feeding 
seems to be largely confined to the kelp-beds, and is both by tipping and 
diving. It is fair to surmise, therefore, that they subsist chiefly upon the 
mollusks and small crustaceans which attach themselves to the floating 
leaves of this plant. When undisturbed the birds sit jauntily upon the 
water, with partly ruffled crests and with active tails, noticeable for length; 
but when the word of caution has been passed around, they lie motionless, 
with the feathers of the head close down and the tail depressed. They are 
somewhat given to charging about the rocks on exploratory tours and 
sallies, but they seldom pass the gunner a second time, and have no re- 
luctance to exchange one feeding ground for another. 

In autumn these nesophilic flocks are augmented by the return of the 
breeding birds, and there is evidence of a slight retreat to more southern 
latitudes. In winter, also, there is some little show of birds upon interior 
waters. But, at best, the impression of Harlequin’s rarity can be removed 
only by a visit to the secluded islets of northern archipelagoes. 

That the Harlequin has nested and still nests in the central Sierras 
is but another evidence of the exceeding hospitality of this favored region. 
That its eggs are still unfound in California is a pleasant challenge to the 
rising generation, and a pledge, by no means solitary, that ornithological 
interest will not flag in this State of extremest contrasts. 

We are chiefly indebted to Mr. Lyman Belding for such information as 


1827 


The King Eider 


we possess. In “Game Birds of California’ Belding says: ‘I have 
noticed many of these ducks on the principal streams of Calaveras and 
Stanislaus Counties in summer in each of the past six or seven years, 
and sent a juvenile to the Smithsonian which I shot here in 1879 or 1880. 
I find young broods from about 4000 feet upward, the earliest apparently 
hatched about the first of June or earlier, and have often surprised the 
mother ducks with their broods when hidden in Saxifrage (S. peltata), 
which grows profusely in parts of the mountain streams, sometimes ap- 
proaching within a few feet of the brood ere I alarmed it, when all would 
hurriedly swim from me, vigorously using both feet and wings to propel 
themselves against or with the rapid currents, not hesitating to tumble 
over a moderate-sized cataract when anxious to escape from danger, or 
even, when following the stream, without such impetus.”’ 

Mr. Belding further testifies that the Harlequin Ducks have been 
greatly reduced in numbers within his knowledge. Fishermen, who 
annually visit these streams in increasing numbers, have wantonly or 
jealously slaughtered these wonderful birds until their doom seems well 
nigh fixed. And yet, it is said, trout form no large proportion of the 
Harlequin’s food, if indeed they are indulged in at all. Really now, 
wouldn’t it be better if our piscivorous friends would consent to leave 
their guns at home? The Harlequins wouldn’t hurt them then! 


No. 366 
King Eider 


A. O. U. No. 162. Somateria spectabilis (Linnzus). 


Description.—Adult male: Top of head and occiput broadly glaucous blue; 
extreme frontal area and region about base of bill on sides black; a A-shaped black 
mark on chin and a dab of black below and behind eye; sides of head broadly light 
green (glass-green to absinthe-green); remainder of chin and neck all around white, 
the color continued well down on back, but becoming clouded with gray; breast broadly 
cream-buff; a patch on wing including lesser and middle coverts, and a patch on side 
of rump, white; wing-linings whitish; remainder of plumage sooty black.  Irides 
yellow; bill orange-red; feet reddish with dusky webs. ‘‘In adult male, in breeding 
season, the bill develops immense rounded or squarish lateral frontal processes, bulging 
high out of line with rest of bill; these processes are soft, and, moreover, depend for 
their prominence upon development of a mass of fatty substance upon which they 
are supported; they shrink and become depressed in winter, when the general formation 
of the parts is not very different from that of other Eiders’’ (Cowes). Adult female: 
Head pattern of male dimly outlined in brownish and dusky, the top of head clear 
dark brown (mummy-brown to sepia), the sides of head cinnamon-buff, speckled with 
dusky; remaining plumage sooty blackish above, lighter below, pale buffy finely barred 


TS28 


The King Eider 


or vermiculated with dusky. Length about 558.8 (22.00); wing 279.4 (11.00); tail 
101.6 (4.00); bill along culmen only 31.75 (1.25), but along gape 57.15 (2.25). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: Of down, on rough ground, 
or among rocks, near the sea. Eggs: 4 to 6; dull water-green or greenish olive-gray. 
Avy. size 74.6 x 49.6 (2.94 x 1.95); index 66.3. Season: June. 

General Range.—Northern part of Northern Hemisphere. Breeds along the 
Arctic coasts and islands of Siberia, Europe, and North America, and in Greenland. 
Winters from southern Greenland and the Gulf of St. Lawrence south to Long Island 
and, rarely, to Georgia; in the interior rarely to the Great Lakes; and on the North 
Pacific along the Aleutian Islands and casually south to coast of California. 


Occurrence in California.—Casual, two records: ‘‘Black Point,’? San Fran- 
cisco, winter of 1879-80 (Henshaw); the other from Suisun Marshes, winter 1902-3 
(Loomis). 


Authorities.—Henshaw, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, vol. v., 1880, p. 189 (San 
Francisco). 


EIDERS are among the hardiest of ducks in the far North; and they 
are migratory only to the extent which the ice forces them out of 
their summer haunts and drives them to the open seas. Their occurrence 
anywhere south of Alaska is so rare as to be properly called accidental; 
and the two California records, spaced twenty-two years apart, do not 
justify our making particular inquiry as to the species. 

Our chief interest in the Eider Duck attaches to its use of down in 
lining its nests. Since it breeds under Arctic conditions, it is necessary 
that the eggs be not exposed to the cold air during the absence of the 
parent. Each day, therefore, as an egg is laid, in a grass-lined depression 
on some moss-grown slope or small knoll well back from the sea-shore, 
the bird plucks feathers from her breast; and when the set of six is com- 
pleted and incubation begun, the eggs are quite buried in an abundance 
of soft, slate-colored down. The Eiders of the Pacific do not colonize 
as do S. mollissima, and others of the North Atlantic waters. The 
gathering of the down has not, therefore, come to have much commercial 
importance and may never reach the dimensions of a traffic. The 
Aleuts and Eskimos are not ignorant of its uses, however, and the exploi- 
tation of Alaska by the white man is bringing such resources as these into 
aregrettable prominence. It is all very well for the natives to subsist, as 
they have for centuries, upon the eggs of birds, and to clothe themselves 
with their skins, but the wild life of Alaska cannot long bear up under 
the strain imposed upon it by an army of gold-seekers. 


7829 


The American Scoter 


No. 367 


American Scoter 


A. O. U. No. 163. Oidemia nigra americana Swainson. 
Synonyms.—AMERICAN BLACK ScoTER. SEA Coot. BLAcK Coot. 


Description.—Adult male: Entire plumage black, glossy and sooty; outline 
of feathers at base of bill not peculiar; base of culmen (especially during breeding 
season) swelled or knobbed,—the knob orange, the rest of the bill, including eyes, 
black. Adult female and young: Sooty gray or fuscous whitening on belly, also on 
throat, sides of head, and neck, where contrasting with dark fuscous of crown and nape; 
outline of feathers at base of bill substantially as in male, but culmen not gibbous. 
Length 457.2-558.8 (18.00-22.00); wing 228.6 (9.00); tail 76.2 (3.00); bill (chord of 
culmen 43.2 (1.70); tarsus 45.7 (1.80). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size; plumage solid black; female fuscous, 
lightening below and on sides of neck; loral feathering not peculiar. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground in marshes 
of the northern interior, and on the bluffs of the seacoasts; of grasses or dead leaves, 
lined with feathers or down. Eggs: 6 to 10; pale ivory yellow. Av. size 64.8 x 45.7 
(2.55 x 1.80). 

Range of Oidemia nigra—Northern part of the Northern Hemisphere. Breeds 
chiefly in sub-Arctic regions and migrates south in winter to the Baltic, the coasts 
of western Europe, Japan, and New Jersey. 

Range of O. 2. americana.—Northern North America and northeastern Asia. 
Breeds in northeastern Siberia and from Kotzebue Sound, Alaska, south to the Aleu- 
tians; also in the northeastern section of America south to Newfoundland. Winters 
on the Asiatic Coast to Japan and from the islands of Bering Sea south diminishingly 
to southern California; interiorly to the Great Lakes, and casually to Louisiana; on 
the Atlantic Coast from Newfoundland to Maine, and decreasingly south even to 
Florida. 

Occurrence in California.—Not common winter visitor coastwise. Grinnell, 
Bryant, and Storer record a dozen instances; and I have seen them five times at Santa 
Barbara. 

Authorities.—Newberry (Oidemia americana), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 104 (San Francisco); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 26 (status 
in s. Calif.); Dwight, Auk, vol. xxxi., 1914, p. 298, pls. (molts and plumages). 


“SCAT!” says the housewife, when pussy starts to sharpen her claws 
on the oleander tree, ‘‘S sss cat!’’ In some such way may have origi- 
nated the commoner name of sea-coot—a hiss to start the uneasy fowl 
in motion—‘‘Ssss you coot. S’coot!’’ whence, of course, Scooter and 
Scoter, the bird that scoots. Whatever philologists may think of this 
derivation, it has at least the virtue of plausibility, and we shall remember 
that those ungainly black fowls which are forever getting in the way of 
steamboats, and shuffling off with wheezy complaint, are Scooters. 
Now and then, if we are watchful, we shall see a little company of black 


7830 


The White-winged Scoter 


ducks which show no trace of white either on head or wing. And if 
the black is black enough to assure us that we are looking at male birds, 
and especially if we catch a glimpse of orange at the base of the upper 
mandible, we may know that we are seeing the somewhat rare American 
Scoter. These birds are very abundant in Alaskan waters, but they do 
not venture south as often, nor in such numbers, as do the two succeeding 
species. They are somewhat smaller than the other birds, but there is 
nothing in habit or behavior to distinguish them during their summer 
residence from their better known compeers. Like the latter, they have 
a perverse habit of dallying in our waters through the summer season, 
but we have no slightest reason to suppose that they nest anywhere 
south of Alaska. 


No. 368 


White-winged Scoter 


A. O. U. No. 165. Melanitta fusca dixoni (Brooks). 

Synonyms.—WHITE-WINGED Coot. SEA Coot. ScooTer. AMERICAN VEL- 
VET ScoTER. Brack Duck. Seuaw Duck. Fish Duck. CLAM DIGGER. SEA 
Duck. Drxon’s ScCOTER. 

Description.—Adult male: Speculum white; a white spot below and including 
eye; entire remaining plumage deep brownish black; culmen gibbous at base, but 
nearly covered by feathers which reach laterally almost to nostrils; loral feathering 
usually, but not always, extending further forward than frontal feathers. Bill black, 
varied by orange-red on lateral and terminal portions (but not on knob or edges). 
Black less intense in winter. Adult female and immature: Plain dusky brown, a 
little lighter below; and with two dull whitish spots on side of head, on lore, and ear- 
coverts; speculum white; extension of loral feathers as in adult male, but bill only 
slightly gibbous, and with less orange. Length 482.6-609.6 (19.00-24.00); wing 279.4 
11.00); tail 82.6 (3.25); bill along culmen 40.6 (1.60); anterior margin of loral feathering 
to tip of bill 39.4 (1.55); tarsus 50.8 (2.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Mallard size or larger; plumage black or dark brown 
(female); white wing-patch (speculum) distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground under a bush, 
often at a considerable distance from water; lined heavily with twigs, dried plants, 
and moss, with a few feathers and down. Eggs: 6 to 10; “pale salmon buff or flesh 
color’ (Bent). Avy. size 68.1 x 46.5 (2.68 x 1.83). Season: Late June; one brood. 

Range of Melanitta fusca.—Northern portion of Northern Hemisphere, south in 
winter to the Black and Caspian seas, China, Lower California, and Florida. 

Range of M. f. dixoni—Western North America and eastern Asia. Breeds 
from northeastern Siberia, northern Alaska, and northern Mackenzie, south to north- 
eastern Washington, Alberta, and northern North Dakota. Winters along the Asiatic 
Coast to China and Japan; and on the Pacific Coast of America from Unalaska Island 
to San Quentin Bay, Lower California; casually in the interior perhaps to Louisiana. 


TS3T 


The White-winged Scoter 


Distribution in California.—Abundant migrant and winter resident along the 
entire seacoast. The southward movement sets in in October and most of the north- 
bound birds are cleared by May Ist; but a rather considerable population of non- 
breeding birds tarries throughout the year. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Cidemia fusca), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); Bent, Auk, vol. xix., 1902, p. 171 (nesting habits, in N. D.); 
Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Bull. no. 185, 1915, p. 21, map (migration route); Howell, 
Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 42 (s. Calif. ids.). 


THE SCOTERS are the characteristic salt-water ducks of middle 
temperate latitudes, and in the aggregate they probably outnumber the 
remaining winter residents of our coastal waters. Their exact distri- 
bution is determined in part by the ‘‘fertility’’ of the beaches; in part by 
the presence of kelp-beds; and especially by the outlines of favoring 
reefs, mussel beds, and barnacle-covered rocks. Although not averse to 
the open ocean, the birds frequent the quieter waters of bays and estua- 
ries, which, naturally, yield a more abundant food supply. Thus, Hum- 
boldt Bay, San Francisco Bay, Monterey Bay, and the lee-shores of the 
Santa Barbara Islands are favorite places of resort. Brackish lagoons 
claim their quota; but bodies of fresh water, even though near shore, 
are seldom visited. I have, however, seen immature birds on several 
occasions upon Laguna Blanca, which is fed by mountain springs. In 
the interior, Scoters.are occasionally seen upon the larger bodies of water; 
and they winter in numbers upon the Great Lakes. 

Where the average distance of the resting bird from shore is not 
determined by a line of breakers, it is likely to be a safe gun-shot. And 
at that, few birds, save the Gulls, suffer much from the casual ‘“‘hunter,”’ 
the miscreant who goes down to the beach just to see what he can kill. 
For one bird that is retrieved by the listless hunter, six are left to rot, 
when finally cast up by the tide, or else to drag out a miserable exist- 
ence to which a swift death were preferable. 

The feeding of the Sea Coot is governed largely by the phases of the 
tide; but it is probable that the night tides are more closely followed 
than those which occur in daylight. At any rate the birds seem to spend 
an enormous amount of time just resting, and we presume they must 
make up for it by a night shift. 

The Coots feed chiefly upon mussels, periwinkles, crustaceans, and 
clams, with a little admixture of alge, or other vegetable matter. Mus- 
sels and clams are devoured shells and all, up to a diameter of two inches 
or more; and the bird’s digestion appears to be in no wise impaired by 
this heroic diet. Its flesh, as a consequence, is rank, and judged unfit 
for food, save by the equally heroic Indian. Yet to call the Scoter 
flesh “‘fishy’’ is only to advertise our own ignorance. A straight diet of 


1832 


The White-winged Scoter 


fish, it appears, rarely renders the diver unfit for human consumption. 
Witness the Cormorant, which although an exclusive fish-eater and 
repulsive enough in appearance, is really a sapid morsel.1 The flesh of 
loons, bitterns, and herons, likewise, although not recommended for 
diet, is certainly not fishy. It is rather the mixed diet of shellfish, marine 


Taken off the Coast of Washington Photo by the Author 
A “RAFT” OF SEA-FOWL, CHIEFLY WHITE-WINGED SCOTERS 


worms, and mud which establishes the disagreeable flavor of Scoters, 
Bluebills, and their ilk. This, in the case of the Scoter, may be reckoned 
something of a misfortune, for a fat Sea-coot will weigh up to six or 
seven pounds, thus exceeding the avoirdupois of the much larger Black 
Brant. 

Scoters have considerable difficulty in rising from the water, and, like 
loons, require a good deal of sea-room. The feet assist the wings for 
some moments as the birds are getting launched, and the laboring move- 
ment of the wings gives rise to a murmuring sound, which is not unpleas- 
ant to the ear. Indeed, a teeming bay, a-hum with the music of a 
thousand flying Scoters, is an orchestra in itself and needs no help of 
wind or wave to write its score upon the heart. It is of the sea, salty. 


1Dr. C. W. Townsend, quoted—The Auk, Vol. XXXVI., Jan., 1919, p. 100. 


1833 


The White-winged Scoter 


At the time of the bird’s maximum fatness, the flight of the Scoter is 
but little more than an effort to keep out of the water, and it is abandoned 
with evident relief. During migrations, however, the birds are capable 
of rapid flight, moving as they do in straggling companies numbering 
from a dozen to several hundred. Occasionally, the Scoters fall into 
line, goose-fashion, and one looks twice to see if it be not, indeed, a flock 
of passing Brant. If obliged to beat against the wind, as upon the 
Pacific Ocean, the flock flies low, rising over the crest of each billow, and 
disappearing in every hollow in order to get what shelter it may. 

White-winged Scoters, migrating at a considerable height, as say 300 
or 400 feet, are subject to a remarkable limitation. Upon hearing any 
sudden noise, as the banging of oars against the side of a boat or the 
discharge of a gun, they descend suddenly, as though to take refuge in 
the water, their only trusted element. Hunters sometimes take advan- 
tage of this weakness, and as the birds come tumbling out of the sky to 
escape imagined thunderbolts, give them real ones. 


Taken near Santa Cruz Island Photo by the Author 
A CAT-NAP 


IMMATURE WHITE-WIN OTER 
1534 URE WHITE-WINGED SCOTE 


The Surf Scoter 


On a northern sand-spit, which is typical of hundreds lying between 
us and Alaska, the White-winged Scoters are much hunted—not at all 
for the excellence of their flesh, but because the supply is unfailing and 
because of their interest as winged targets. The Scoters feed by hundreds 
during the day in the harbor, but feel impelled to leave its uncertainties 
toward nightfall and seek the safety of open water. The wiser birds 
defer flight till well after dark, when law-abiding gunners have gone home. 
During the passage of the sand-spit the unhappy birds are subjected to 
a grilling fire, but none think of rising above danger. The path of the 
first flock determines the point at which others will follow for the remain- 
der of the evening. It is as though the word had been passed around that 
the passage would be attempted at a certain point that night, and suc- 
cessive platoons obey the general order in spite of persecution. The 
flight is greatly quickened as the spit is approached, and should a flock 
of experienced birds discover the gunner ahead of them, they do not 
tower or swerve, but each in his course begins a frantic wriggling and 
twisting, achieving thus a sort of cork-screw motion, which is really very 
effective in upsetting the gunner’s calculations. In spite of the grim 
tragedy of the thing, it is laughable to see the birds perform in this way, 
like schoolboys before the uplifted lash. 


No. 369 


Surf Scoter 


A. O. U. No. 166. Melanitta perspicillata (Linneus). 

Synonyms.—Surr Duck. SEA Coot. Seuaw Duck, (ETC., as in preceding 
species). 

Description.—Adult male: A triangular patch on nape and a rounded patch 
on forehead between eyes, shining white; remaining plumage glossy black, duller 
below; frontal extension of feathers reaching nearly to nostril. Bill swollen at base 
and singularly variegated in hue, pinkish white on sides, upon which a sharply defined 
squarish patch of black, a line of brilliant carmine between this patch and base of bill, 
culmen dark red shading into orange; under mandible orange and white; irides white; 
feet orange-red, blackish on joints and webs. Adult female: Plumage sooty brown, 
changing on underparts through grayish brown to silvery gray; no sign of white patches 
of male, but two dull whitish areas on side of head, one buccal and one auricular (some- 
times indistinct or even wanting). Bill blackish, scarcely swollen at base; frontal 
feathering not so extended as in male; feet blackish tinged with orange-red. Immature 
male: Like adult female, but patches on side of head more definitely white. Length 
of adult: 457.2-533.4 (18.00-21.00); wing 228.6-254 (9.00-10.00); bill along gape 57.2- 
63.5 (2.25-2.50); female averaging the smaller of these dimensions. 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; white patches on forehead and nape of male; 
whitish patches on sides of head of female and young male distinctive. 


The Surf Scoter 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On ground in dense cover 
near water; of grasses and feathers with abundant dusky down. Eggs: 5 to 8; dull 
ivory-yellow or cream-colored. Av. size 60.96 x 43.2 (2.40 x 1.70). Season: Late 
June. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds on Arctic shores west to north- 
western Mackenzie, and south to Great Slave Lake and northern Quebec, and from 
Kotzebue Sound, Alaska, south to Sitka. Birds occurring in summer off the coast of 
northeastern Siberia apparently do not breed; and non-breeders are found south on 
both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of America in considerable numbers. Winters 
on the Atlantic Coast from Nova Scotia to North Carolina, rarely to Florida; in the 
interior regularly to the Great Lakes, and casually in Mississippi Valley south to 
Louisiana; on the Pacific Coast from the Aleutians south to San Quentin Bay, Lower 
California. 


Distribution in California.—Abundant migrant and winter resident along the 
entire coastline. A scattered population of non-breeders remains throughout the 
summer. 


Authorities.—Newberry (Oidemia perspicillata), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. 
vi., 1857, p. 104 (San Francisco); Dwight, Auk, vol. xxxi., 1914, p. 302, pls. (molts and 
plumages); F. Mf. Bailey, Condor, vol. xvili., 1916, p. 109 (habits, s. Calif.). 


THE PROW of any one of a thousand coasting steamers, ferries, or 
river boats affords an ideal opportunity for the study of winter bird-life 
in Pacific waters. Wanton shooting from such stations has been prac- 
tically discontinued, so that knowing birds postpone flight till the last 
moment at the approach of a steamboat. No birds are more frequently 
encountered than the Scoters, Surf and White-winged; and it is a source 
of never-ending enjoyment to observe their behavior on such occasions. 

At first it is presumed that the boat will pass at a considerable dis- 
tance. In default of this issue the birds decide to outswim it, and bend 
low to their task. But the monster approaches. The Coots stop rowing 
and wag their heads inquiringly from side to side. It certainly is coming. 
Whatever shall we do? Finally, one bird pulls himself together and 
begins to pound the water with his wings and feet. The rest follow suit 
with much grumbling and wheezing, and soon they are really off, patter- 
ing and scooting over the water. But Flagstaff’s wind gives out (and he 
is the handsomest of the company). He is too fat to fly, and he gives up 
after a few strokes, falling back panting into the water. There is always 
one resort left an honest sea-fowl. You quench your curiosity in his 
gaudy head-gear, bending low over the railing, and as the steamer is 
almost upon him, the bird dives, swiftly, surely, confidently, quite out of 
harm’s way, and does not reappear short of a hundred yards. 

The head of the male Surf Scoter presents one of the most bizarre 
appearances in nature. It has only the Tufted Puffin for a rival, and 
I think that “‘the odds are even” here. Try to conjure before your mind’s 
eye the colorings of the Scoter’s bill alone: black, white, pink, yellow, cad- 


7836 


The Surf Scoter 


mium, orange, and car- 
mine, and those 
displayed not only in 
transitions but in the 
most abrupt contrasts. 
Add a swelling which 
involves not only the 
base of the bill but the 
whole anterior portion 
of the head; then a white 
eye; then two patches of 
dazzling white on black 
ground for the rest, and 
you have this Beau : 
Brummel of the seas. Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 

But the ladies like OED, MAN JOR THES SES 

him; they have to, for they are such homely bodies themselves that the 
perversity of attraction must be mutual. I have seen a Surf Scoter court- 
ship in mid-April. Five males are devoting themselves to one female. 
They chase each other about viciously, but no harm seems to come of 
their threats; and they crowd around the female as though to force a 
decision. She, in turn, chases them off with lowered head and out- 
stretched neck and great show of displeasure. Now and then one flees 
in pretended fright and with great commotion, only to settle down at a 
dozen yards and come sidling back. If she will deign a moment’s atten- 
tion, the flattered gallant dips his head and scoots lightly under the sur- 
face of the water, showering himself repeatedly with his fluttering wings. 
One suitor swims about dizzily, half submerged, while another rises from 
the water repeatedly, apparently to show the fair one how little assistance 
he requires from his feet in starting, a challenge some of his corpulent 
rivals dare not accept, I ween. I have watched them thus for half an 
hour, off and on, and the villains still pursue her. 

Not only are the Surf Scoters present in vast numbers in winter 
throughout the length of our coast, but quite considerable numbers linger 
through the summer,—that is to say, the year around. These are 
evidently immature birds, who have no need to go north to watch their 
more fortunate elders nest, and old birds, whose mating days are done. 
Such a company I once found in mid-June haunting an off-shore reef 
near the Forty-eighth Parallel. Though the reef was half a mile away, 
we could look down on it from the summit of Carroll Islet and note the 
accurate allowance of spacing for each bird, about three or four feet 
from his nearest fellows. There were a thousand birds of this and the 


The Surf Scoter 


Taken in Santa Barbara 


SURF SCOTERS, ADULT MALES 


Photo by the Author 


preceding species, to- 
gether with an irregular 
admixture of Scaups, 
California Murres, 
and Tufted Puffins. Day 
after day this strange 
phenomenon persisted, 
though the proportions 
of the personnel fur- 
nished by the local 
breeding murres and 
puffins shifted some- 
what from hour to hour. 
It was a weird and sug- 
gestive sight, a stranded 
company of derelicts, a 
sort of Old Ladies’ Home 
whose only furnishings 
were an open-air plunge 
and (usually guaran- 
teed) an absence of spec- 
tators. 

Apropos of dere- 
licts, we remark again 
the constant wastage of 
bird-life occasioned by 
the seepage of oil along 
our Santa Barbara coast. 
Surf Scoters are among 
the chief sufferers, and 
the sight of a sick duck, 
bedraggled with crude 
oil, tottering down the 
beach-line, is a common- 
place of all the less- 
frequented stretches. 


When such a bird is caught (and it is a mercy to catch it and put it out 
of its misery) it is often found to be in the last stages of emaciation, a mere 


bundle of feathers. 


The bird languishes not through lack of food, which 


is abundant enough, but because in its distracted efforts to rid its plumage 


of the entangling slime, the bird imbibes the fatal mixture. 
and emaciation follow without redress. 


1538 


Purgation 


So because we are used to seeing 


The Surf Scoter 


sick or oil-soaked birds floundering about the beaches hereabouts, I was 
slow to arrive at the conclusion that beach-foraging is a normal act for 
Scoters. The suspicion of illness or weakness in one of these birds, even 
a perfectly healthy one, seen inside the surf line, is occasioned by the 
fact that he is invariably too heavy for his feet. These he uses, if at all, 
with great difficulty, and he waddles or hitches about most awkwardly. 
Yet this is perfectly natural. Do we not recall our own feeling of exces- 
sive weight upon emerging from an ocean dip? We are elephants, and 
they have given us only toothpicks for support. Certainly the Scoter 
takes most of his terrestrial experience squatting. In this way alone is 
he able to combat the powerful reflex of the retreating wave and be 
prepared to endure the shock of its successor. Five birds that I am 
watching have been back and forth through the surf repeatedly, almost 
invariably swimming for it when flight would appear easier. A_ bird 
breasts the curling wave and rises with nice calculation, or if he sees 
that he is too late, he ducks nimbly so as to get the minimum shock. 
Inside the breaker line he allows the water to sweep him up as far as it 
will, endeavoring only to keep headed ashore by dint of spraddling his 
legs. If suspicious of strangers, he allows the refluent wave also to sweep 
him back. Once fairly ashore, the Scoters dig valiantly in the saturated 
sands for concealed dainties. One I watched scooped rapidly with his 
shovel bill, like an Indian after clams, until his labors were rewarded, 
apparently by a worm. So far as I know these are the only birds capable 
of submitting to the actual pounding of the breakers, or willing to do so. 


a a. = 
Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
SKIRMISHING AT THE TIDE LINE 


T3839 


The Ruddy Duck 
No. 370 


Ruddy Duck 


A. O. U. No. 167. Erismatura jamaicensis (Gmelin). 


Synonyms.—PIN-TAIL. QUILL-TAIL. SPINE-TAIL. Ruppy DIver. SPOON- 
BILLED BUTTER-BALL. BLUE-BILL. BULL-NECK. SPATTERER. SPATTER DUCK. SPAT. 


Description.— Adult male in breeding plumage: Top of head and nape black; 
cheeks and chin white; neck all around, chest, sides of breast, sides, and upperparts, 
rich chestnut-red; wings, lower back (but not upper coverts), and tail, blackish; tail, 
mostly exposed, widely spread, graduated at sides, composed of eighteen to twenty 
stiffsh feathers, which, except in the breeding season, have the tips of the shafts more 
or less exposed; remaining underparts silvery white (overlying dark brownish gray, 
which is irregularly and sometimes completely exposed, especially on sides, according 
to the wear of the plumage), lightly washed, especially on breast, with bright rusty. 
Bill light blue; feet bluish gray with dusky webs; iris brownish red. ‘Adult male 
in winter: Top and side of head to below eye, and hind-neck, blackish brown, minutely 
flecked with ashy brown; patch on side of head white, as in summer; whole upper 
surface of body dark brown, minutely peppered with ashy gray and chestnut; tail and 
wings and lower surface as in summer; throat and broad collar around neck, ashy 
brown. In any plumage wings and tail may be pale ashy due to wear and fading’’ 
(‘‘Game Birds of Calif.,’’ Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer). Adult female and immature: 
Above, including top of head, dark grayish brown or dusky, finely mottled, or some- 
times indistinctly barred, on scapulars, etc., with buffy gray; throat and sides of head 
and neck, contrasting with crown, whitish, usually crossed longitudinally on sides of 
head by an indistinct dusky band; underparts as in adult male, but underlying brown 
more extensively outcropping, and fore-neck, chest and sides heavily tinged with 
bright rusty or ochraceous. Length 355.6-419.1 (14.00-16.50); wing 144 (5.67); tail 
67.3 (2.65); bill 40.6 (1.60); greatest breadth of bill 23.4 (.92); tarsus 34.5 (1.36). 
Females average a little smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size or slightly larger; chestnut-red coloring of 
male; dark and light contrasting on sides of head in female and young; ‘‘chunky”’ 
appearance; tail of stiff, usually pointed, feathers, generally upturned while on water. 

Nesting.— Nest: <A slight platform of tules or other marshy waste, placed 
under dense cover near edge of pond or stream, or else a bulky mass of reeds built up 
out of water in shelter of tule clump, and lined with dull whitish down. Eggs: 4 to 
12, 19 of record; lusterless and granular, dull white or palest yellowish glaucous. Av. 
size 63.5 X 45.7 (2.50 x 1.80); index 72. Season: May—June; one brood. 

General Range.—Temperate North America. Breeds from British Columbia, 
Great Slave Lake, southern Keewatin, and northern Mackenzie, south regularly to 
northern Lower California, central Arizona, northwestern Nebraska, the southern 
portions of Minnesota, Michigan, and Ontario, and Maine, and locally elsewhere, as 
Massachusetts, Cuba, Porto Rico, Guatemala, Valley of Mexico, and Cape San Lucas 
region. Winters in warmer portions of range from British Columbia, Arizona, southern 
Illinois, etc., south to the West Indies and Costa Rica. 


Distribution in Californias—Common resident on fresh-water lakes and 
tule-bordered ponds throughout the State,—the best distributed of ducks. . Numbers 
considerably augmented in winter, especially southerly. 


7840 


aYeT MO}G UO UdyR YT, 


4oymnp ayy dq ydvibozoyd v wos 


d[PUld,y pue sey ‘syonq Appny 


The Ruddy Duck 


Authorities.—Gambel (Erismatura rubida), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 226 (Calif.); Ingersoll, Orn. and Odl., vol. ix., 1884, p. 15 (desc. nest, eggs, 
habits; Santa Cruz); Wetmore, Condor, vol. xx., 1918, p. 19 (anat.; tracheal air-sac). 


IT IS REPORTED of a South Sea missionary that, when approached 
by a band of cannibals brandishing spears of sharks’ teeth, instead of 
fleeing in terror, he ran forward and embraced the chief with such show 
of friendliness that he completely won the savage heart. In such manner, 
the Ruddy Duck would conquer the heart of the sportsman; for when 
approached by the swift-urging punt, instead of flying at fair range and 
inviting attack, he waits in mild-eyed curiosity until the sportsman’s 
ardor is lost in shame and admiration. His flesh, therefore, has been 
generously voted “tough” and “‘stringy’’; and you must not shoot a 
Ruddy, please! 

These birds are chiefly characterized by a certain jauntiness of bear- 
ing, quite in keeping with their bewitching chunkiness. They ride the 
water like corks, and their tails are most frequently cocked up, wren- 
fashion. These saucy tails are composed of stiff, spiny feathers, having 
shafts denuded toward the tips, more or less, according to season, so 
that the birds are popularly known as Pintails, Sprig-tails, Quill-tails, 
Spine-tails, etc., in confusion with Dajfila acuta tzitzihoa, which owes its 
common name not to the stiffness but to the graceful length of its caudal 
appendage. 

Another nickname applied to the birds by California sportsmen is 
“Spat,” or “Spatterer.’’ This is said to have been applied because of 
the noisy strokes made by the duck’s feet upon the surface of the water 
as it is getting under way; but, somehow, I fancy that it is rather the 
combination of dandified gentility and squattiness which makes the name 
“Spat” stick. 

Besides being always underlaid with a coat of fat, when in good con- 
dition, the garments of these birds are made extra thick, so that they 
may spend a great deal of time under water. Although not quite so 
agile as the Bufflehead at the moment of diving, they are excelled by 
no other duck in their powers of endurance under water, diving rather 
than flying when harassed, and emerging at great distances. Indeed, 
the Ruddy has the Grebe-habit of swimming, under persecution, with 
only the nostrils or head exposed. 

A drake which I once quietly followed about, in a canoe upon a 
northern lake in nesting time, seemed rather to enjoy the game, although 
he was more sophisticated than some. The first thing to observe in 
addition to his striking general beauty, chestnut plumage relieved by 
black and white on head and neck, was the brilliant cobalt hue of his 


1841 


The Ruddy Duck 


a + ~— = EEE eer 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 
RUDDY DUCK 


bill. It was not merely 
blue, but a glowing blue. 
He dived repeatedly, and 
emerged each time ra- 
diant with beaded moist- 
ure; and as he warily 
passed our bows, he 
paused now and then to 
make gestures whose sig- 
nificance, whether of fear 
or defiance, I could not 
determine, although I 
suspect the latter. He 
first reared his head and 
tail to the utmost, 
straight up and parallel 
to each other; then let 
his head subside by spas- 
modic jerks, as though 
he were a bag of wind 
and somebody were de- 
flating him by successive 
raps upon the head. 
Each subsidence was ac- 
companied by a little 
grunt, and to conclude 
the whole he thrust his 
head suddenly forward 
with a grunt louder than 
all; thus: chut - chut - 
chut - chut - chelub. It 
was a properly ridiculous 
performance from a hu- 
man standpoint, but I 
suppose if I had been a 
drake Ruddy, I should 
have flown into a pretty 
passion and given him a 


drubbing for his impudence. This particular bird was a fat rascal, for 
when he tired of issuing vain challenges, he took to wing, and as he did 
so, although aided by a light breeze, he found it necessary to patter upon 
the surface for at least a hundred feet before he cleared. 


1842 


The Ruddy Duck 


While I had no doubt that the behavior detailed above was a part of 
the “breeding cycle,” it was a privilege to witness a repetition of the per- 
formance with the stage more fully set, as I did on May oth, 1914, froma 
hidden vantage point overlooking Laguna Blanca. A male, very much 
aroused, was trying to entertain two females, and he seemed to be quite 
impartial in his treatment of them. His ordinary and frequently repeated 
act was a rapid rehearsal of the series described above, 1. e., the successive 
depression of the head, culminating in the suddenly outstretched neck and 
the chelub cry, but each successive series did not occupy above one second 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 
RUDDY DRAKE 


in performance. This passionate exercise was varied by an occasional os- 
tentatious flight of about six feet, during which the bird emitted a xylo- 
phonic, rolling or clucking note, very much like the sound made by a 
distant woodpecker on a dry limb. During this excitement, also, the fel- 
low reared black crests over his eyes to the height of half an inch or so. 
Whether this was accomplished by a local inflation of the skin, or by a 
muscular puckering and humping of the integument, one could not tell; 
but he looked so like a huge bullfrog in feathers, that I nearly laughed out. 
At the approach of another male, our hero charged valiantly, whereupon 
the intruder dived, and was pursued furiously under water. Naturally, a 
gallant who was about to capture two hearts at a stroke would resent 
interruption. 


1843 


The Ruddy Duck 


Ruddy Ducks nest in greater or less numbers upon most of our lakes 
and coastal ponds. During the nesting season the female is excessively 
timid and may not often be seen—never in the vicinity of her nest. The 
male, on the contrary, spends much of his time in the open water hobnob- 
bing with grebes and Redheads, and seems to have about as important 
business as the average politician. The nest is hidden in the reeds of some 
low island or marshy brink. The birds are said to occupy old coot nests 
at-times, and at others to build up very handsome structures of their own, 
raising the eggs a foot or so above the surface of the water. At other times 
a shabby shakedown may lie upon the wet muck of a swampy island. 
Usually some sort of a floating structure is devised, and if this can be 
concealed under a canopy of broken-down tules, so much the better for 
the bird. 

No greater surprise could be devised in odlogical duckdom than the 
egg of a Ruddy Duck. With surface rough and chalky, where others are 
oil-finished, dead white, where others are tinted, it is still the extraordinary 
size which provokes astonishment. The bird is notably small as ducks 
go, although of a compact and stocky build, but the egg is easily the 
largest of inland duck eggs, not excepting those of the Canvasback. On 
this account it might readily be believed that a half dozen should consti- 
tute a set, and it often does; but we are told that one of these birds some- 
times deposits as high as a dozen or fourteen eggs; and there are two 
instances on record, both by A. M. Ingersoll, Santa Cruz, June 26, 1883, 
of nests containing nineteen eggs, each set disposed in three layers. 

The Ruddy Duck lines its nests sparingly, or not at all, with down, 
trusting evidently to the protective cover of the reeds. Nevertheless, I 
have found exposed nests, which at the approach of noisy footsteps had 
been hastily covered over with broken tules and debris scratched from the 
edge. 

Nature’s purpose in devising these massive eggs is quickly discovered 
when we see that the newly hatched young, more fully equipped than those 
of other species, are able to dive at once. On this account, therefore, the 
mother bird, if caught in the open with her brood, does not concern herself 
over their welfare. But she beats a hasty retreat to cover, knowing that 
the ducklings will follow by submarine route. 

The “Game Birds of California’ predicts that when the more de- 
sirable species are still further reduced in numbers, the covetous eye of 
the gunner will fall upon this bird, as it has upon the Mud-hens of the 
East. Would that some earnest word of mine might shield them from 
such a dismal fate. Our pond life is becoming pauperized enough as it 
is, God knows. Why should we fall upon these innocent and ardent little 
Spats, and terrorize them until they are forced to drag out a surreptitious 


1844 


vouelg eundse’y uo uaye 7, 


4oyynp ayt vq ydvibojoyg v UO4 i] 


yong sayedg oy, 


ft 


é 
ite ont 


as 


The Lesser Snow Goose 


existence? until they subsist, like the Christians of old, in some catacombs 
of tainted ooze and reedy horror? Come now, let us make a truce with 
the children of life, and share with them the good things which we plenti- 
fully enjoy. There is happiness enough for all; and some of us there are 
who cannot be happy unless all are. 


No. 371 


Lesser Snow Goose 


A. O. U. No. 169. Chen hyperboreus hyperboreus (Pallas). 

Synonym.—WB8ITE BRANT. 

Description.—Adult: Entire plumage, except the primaries and their coverts, 
pure white; head and neck often heavily tinged with rusty; primaries blackish and 
with dark shafts on exposed portions, grayish and with white shafts basally; primary 
coverts gray with dark shafts. Bill stout, short, with widely gaping commisure, 
showing black edges of mandibles; said to be purplish red in life, drying dull orange, 
nail white; feet and legs (drying) orange-red. Jmmature: Head and neck pale gray; 
back and wings, except quills, gray, varied by mesial dusky and marginal whitish, 
notably on wing-coverts and tertiaries; remaining plumage white. Length about 
635 (25.00); wing 406.4 (16.00); tail 152.4 (6.00); bill 50.8-54.6 (2.00-2.15); tarsus 
76.2 (3.00); middle toe and claw 58.4 (2.30). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; pure white plumage with conspicuous black 
primaries (hence, not difficult to determine on the wing). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: . On ground, of grass and moss 
with copious lining of down. Eggs: 2 to 6; dull yellowish or creamy white. Av. 
size 80.5 x 54 (3.17 x 2.13). Season: June. 

Range of Chen hyperboreus.—Arctic North America, south in winter to the 
Southern States, Mexico, and Japan. 

Range of C. h. hyperboreus.—Western America and northeastern coast of Asia. 
Breeds in the western portion of the American Arctic regions, west at least to the 
mouth of the Mackenzie; occurs in summer in northeastern Siberia, but is not known 
to breed there; winters chiefly in California, but also from British Columbia, southern 
Colorado, and southern Illinois, south to Texas and Louisiana, Jalisco, northern Lower 
California, and Japan. Specimens obtained in winter and during migrations from 
further eastern points are, theoretically at least, intergrades with C. hyperboreus nivalis. 

_ Distribution in California.—Abundant winter resident in the Sacramento- 
San Joaquin Valley, and on the western Santa Barbara Islands, especially Santa Rosa; 
less common elsewhere south to San Diego and east to the Colorado River. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Chen hyperboreus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 548 (syn., desc. habits, 
foods, etc.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 18 (San Joaquin Valley). 


WHITE is a color of ill omen in a bird’s plumage. It should typify 
purity; but it spells EASY MARK, instead, to the sportsman; and the sports- 


1845 


The Lesser Snow Goose 


man under his various disguises has a long lead over the poet in this coun- 
try. The color is, of course, highly protective in a region of snow and ice, 
such as this bird frequents in summer. Nor is it difficult to trace its pro- 
tective significance in the case of pelicans, which sit along the margin 
of some lake, like windrows of alkaline froth; nor in that of certain sea- 
birds, whose white is the mere embodiment of storm-tossed billows. But 
paint a game-bird white, and put the crazy notion into his noggin of 
wintering in California—the case is quite hopeless. 
The great interior valley of California, the Sacramento-San Joaquin- 
Tulare section, has been from time immemorial the winter home of 
America’s geese, and especially of the two Snow geese, Chen hyperboreus 
and C. rossi. It is scarcely possible to exaggerate the number which 
frequented this region before the advent of the white man. It must 
have run into the millions, and may easily have reached the tens of mil- 
lions. Practically the entire population of the North, breeding and bred 
on the Arctic shores of British America, in Banks Land and, presumably, 
upon the still undiscovered Hyperborean land mass, poured across the 
defiles of the Sierras in late September and early October, and covered 
the central California landscape as with a quivering white blanket. Of 
their appearance in the Fifties Heermann wrote:! ‘‘Frequents more es- 
pecially the salt marsh districts, though found also inland. The food 
which they select in these localities gives their flesh a strong sedgy flavor, 
which causes them to be but little esteemed. These birds often cover 
so densely with their masses the plains in the vicinity of the marshes as 
to give the ground the appearance of being clothed with snow. Easily ap- 
proached on horseback, the natives sometimes near them in this manner 
then suddenly putting spurs to their animals gallop into the flock, 
: _ striking to the right and 
left with short clubs and 
trampling them beneath 
their horses’ feet. I 
have known a native to 
procure seventeen birds 
Seser ie as PEE _ ina single charge of this 
kind through a flock 
covering several acres.”’ 
Gone are those days, 
never to return. The 
insatiable white man, 


Taken in SEY | 35 as Photo by most barbarous of 
Solano County A ae. y W. W. Richards 


A GAGGLE OF WHITE GEESE 1 Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., Vol. X. 
ON THE SUISUN MARSHES p. 68. 
1846 


The Lesser Snow Goose 


nature’s children, was quick to ““improve’’ upon native methods. Stalking 
horses, or stalking heifers, were trained, and from such vantage 
points the hunters mowed down the luckless birds in thousands. Agri- 
cultural demands, soon arising, set a price on the heads of these 
grass-eating fowls and they were slaughtered by thousands beyond 
any possible demand of the market, and simply that the fields of growing 
wheat might be rid of their presence. 


LESSER SNOW GEESE IN CAPTIVITY 
FLOCK ALSO CONTAINS ROSS SNOW, WHITE-FRONTED, AND HUTCHINS GEESE 


Snow Geese still visit California by thousands. They have no 
other place to go. A newcomer, visiting Los Banfios or the fields about 
Sacramento, and ignorant of former conditions, would still get the im- 
pression of abundance. Latterly the birds have taken to wintering on 
the island of Santa Rosa, and there may be as high as 30,000 or 40,000 
birds there at a time. But these are all there are; and the teeming North 
has been bereft of her snow children. One of the most sublime spectacles 
of fecundity in existence, the breeding grounds of the Arctic, has been 


1847 


The Lesser Snow Goose 


reduced to a ghastly farce and a fear of extinction. The presence of 
this colossal fact is so glaringly manifest, and so painful, that one who 
loves the birds and really cares for the cultural development of our 
nation can hardly bring himself to contemplate the details. 

But further waste is absolutely unnecessary. Control of all mi- 
gratory birds has been vested in the Federal Department of Agriculture. 
Market-hunting has been stopped. Regulations have been passed which, 
if rigidly enforced, may possibly slow down the present rate of destruc- 
tion one half, or such a matter. If only people could be brought to realize 
a few homely truths, the slaughter of wild-fowl might be discouraged 
outright. I mention a few of them: 

1. The “sporting” instinct is not so much a desire for slaughter as it 
is a perfectly commendable desire to be out of doors with some definite, 
socially approved objective at hand. Give this instinct other outlets. 

2. The flesh of wild birds is no longer necessary as human food. 

3. The continued domination of Nature by terror is increasingly 
revolting. 

4. At only half the present rate of destruction per human capita, 
all ‘“‘game birds,” save possibly the western quails, will be reduced to a 
state of practical outlawry or else destroyed. 

5. The instincts of the chase are neither incorrigible nor difficult to 
divert; but they are being artificially stimulated by the advertising of guns 
and ammunition, and by the perverse social expectations resulting there- 
from. 

6. Future ages will never cease to curse us if we squander the 
heritage of our wild life. 

We have tried temperance and ‘“‘moderate shooting,’ and it has 
proven a rotten failure. The birds are still on the decrease. Isn’t it time 
for prohibition? 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by W. K. Fisher 
LESSER SNOW GEESE 


WING-TIPPED BIRDS IN GOLDEN GATE PARK 


1348 


a 


The Blue Goose 


No. 372 


Blue Goose 


A. O. U. No. 169.1. Chen cerulescens (Linnzus). 

Description (of four winter specimens in the collection of the Museum of Ver- 
tebrate Zoology).—Head and neck all around white, strongly tipped, especially ante- 
riorly, with ochraceous-orange; general body plumage sooty gray, or mingled dusky 
and glaucous-gray, with paler, brownish, edgings, color darkest on lower neck all around; 
lower abdomen, flanks, and lower tail-coverts sordid white, more or less tinged with 
gray centrally; rump and upper tail-coverts (nearly concealing tail) light bluish gray; 
wings glaucous-gray, purest on coverts, blackening on tips of flight-feathers; tertials 
and secondary coverts blackish, centrally, with whitish edgings; tail bluish dusky, 
tipped with white. Ochraceous-orange of head and neck probably not found in 
breeding plumage. Length 812.8-889 (32.00-35.00); wing 431.8-457.2 (17.00-18.00); 
tail 140 (5.51); bill 58 (2.28); depth at base 34 (1.34); tarsus 82 (3.23). 

Recognition Marks.—Head and neck a// around, in contrast with dark body 
plumage, distinctive. Somewhat larger than Emperor Goose (Philacte canagica), 
and plumage not conspicuously scaled. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. An egg, laid in captivity (now in 
M. C. O. coll.) is dull grayish white, and measures 72.64 x 50.04 (2.86 x 1.97). 

General Range.—FEastern North America. Breeds on Baffin Island and prob- 
ably in northern Ungava, and winters south to Louisiana and Texas. Has occurred 
during migrations in Florida, Cuba, and the Bahamas, and in winter in California. 

Occurrence in California.—‘‘Rare winter visitant to the Sacramento-San 
Joaquin Valley” (Grinnell). Two published records: that of two immature birds 
killed near Stockton about Feb. 1, 1892 (Belding); and one taken at Gridley, Butte 
County, Dec. 15, 1910 (reported by Grinnell). 

Authorities.— Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1892, p. 97 (Stockton); Cooke, U. S. Dept. 
Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 26, 1906, p. 68 (distr. and migr.); Grinnell, Condor, vol. 
vol. xxii., 1920, p. 76 (Gridley, Butte Co., one spec.; history of occurrence). 


IT SEEMS to be almost literally true that all good geese come to 
California. We will not press the point to its remotest implications, but 
it is matter for congratulation that this voyageur from northeastern 
Arctic America has recently signed California’s goose register im tpso 
sanguine. Thirty years ago Lyman Belding, of Stockton, secured two 
birds whose heads Ridgway identified as belonging to immature Blue 
Geese, and Belding himself saw others in the succeeding years. It was 
only in 1910, however, that a specimen was preserved and mounted, and 
brought (in 1920) to scientific notice. For all we know, the bird may have 
been of fairly regular occurrence in the “good old days.” 

For more than a century and a half the Blue Goose has been a will 
o’ the wisp, a bird of mystery alike to sportsmen and scientists. The 
creoles of Louisiana had been contentedly picking his bones all this while, 


1849 


The Ross Snow Goose 


but in interior localities he had been a sort of apparition, to be expected 
only once in a “‘blue moon.” To the myopic sight of science, Chen 
cerulescens appeared to be a sort of adolescent form, a child that had never 
grown up. Finally, only a year or so ago, a venerable scientist of the Old 
World announced, to our self-reproach and manifest relief, that the so- 
called ‘‘Blue Goose”’ was only an immature phase, a second- or third-year 
bird, of Chen hyperboreus, the Snow Goose. Why, of course! How 
simple! But Now (1922), after another of his famous winters in the 
Arctic, Don McMillan comes back from Baffin Island with a Blue Goose 
under one arm and her eggs in his hat. Now what do you know about 
that! 


No. 373 


Ross’s Snow Goose 


A. O. U. No. 170. Chen rossi (Cassin). 

Synonym.—‘‘CHINA’’ GOOSE. 

Description.—Coloration exactly as in C. hyperboreus. ‘‘Bill small, outline of 
feathers on side of upper mandible nearly straight instead of strongly convex, studded 
at base with numerous papillae, and with much less exposure of teeth in a blackish 
recess than in any of the other species.’ Length about 533.4 (21.00); wing 368.3 
(14.50); tail 127 (5.00); bill 38.1 (1.50); tarsus 63.5 (2.50). 

Nest and Eggs unknown. 

General Range.—Breeding range unknown, but probably on terra incognita 
north of Mackenzie; observed during migrations between Kent Peninsula and the 
mouth of the Anderson River, and southerly from Manitoba to Oregon; winters in 
California. Casual in Colorado, Louisiana, and northern Mexico. 

Distribution in California.—Common winter resident, chiefly in the Sacra- 
mento-San Joaquin Valley, but also (especially formerly) about Los Angeles. 

Authorities.—Coues (Anser rossit), Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 553 (San 
Francisco); Daggett, Condor, vol. iii., 1901, p. 15 (Newport, Orange Co). 


THE OOLOGIST has risked stormy seas to visit isolated islands, and 
endured severe winters to claim rarities from the shores of the Arctic. 
As a consequence, the nesting habits of most birds are known. There are 
at least two birds, however, which seek a safe retreat so far to the north 
that for many years they have successfully eluded egg-collectors, and their 
nests and eggs have remained a secret known only to themselves. One is 
the Surf Bird, a migrant along the California coast, and the other, the 
Ross Goose, a common winter visitant of the great valleys of the state. 
Up to 1906 not even a summer record for the latter species existed. The 
supposition is that the breeding grounds of this bird lie on the Arctic 
islands north of the Mackenzie River. 


7850 


The Ross Snow Goose 


Another interesting thing about this bird is that California valleys 
alone furnish good enough feeding grounds to lure him as a winter tourist, 
for in no other state is the Ross Goose found during the middle of the 
winter. The bird has been taken as far south in California as Orange 
County, but probably does not go as far south as Mexico. 

The Ross Goose also stands out among the galaxy of California geese 
because of its remarkable migration route. According to W. W. Cooke, 
our greatest student of migration, the Ross Goose selects the following 
route: On leaving the Arctic islands north of the Mackenzie River in the 
fall, it travels up the valleys of the Mackenzie and Athabasca rivers in 
company with hundreds of thousands of other waterfowl bound for their 
winter homes on the coasts of the eastern United States and the Gulf of 
Mexico. But on reaching the northern boundary of the United States it 
parts company with its traveling companions, and while they continue 
south and southeast along the usual migration route, it turns to the south- 
west, crosses the main range of the Rocky Mountains and the high Sierras, 


Photo by F. H. Holmes 
ROSS SNOW GEESE 


FLOCK ALSO CONTAINS THREE OTHER SPECIES. NOTE THE MUCH SMALLER BILL OF THE ROSS GOOSE 
AS CONTRASTED WITH C. hyperboreus. 


TS5T 


The Ross Snow Goose 


and settles for the winter in California. Two ranges of snowclad moun- 
tains form no barrier for this tireless traveler. 

The Ross Goose rarely flocks by itself, but congregates with flocks of 
the Lesser Snow Goose. Only the smaller size, about one-half the bulk, 
and the peculiar corrugations on the bill separate it from the common 
Lesser Snow Goose, which it resembles in color. A trained ear can be 
relied upon to distinguish flying birds by their call, which is shrill and of a 
falsetto quality. Young birds are recognized by their grayer plumage. 
White geese, as a rule, fly in a U-shaped flock rather than in a distinct 
V-shape. 

Although formerly often seen in the market, the Ross Snow Goose has 
always been classified along with the Lesser Snow Goose as a less desirable 
bird for the table. The cheapness of these species in the market attested 
this also. The meat, although gamey in flavor, is dry and very dark. 

This goose feeds like other geese, grass forming the principal item of 
food. As the birds walk along they crop the grass on one side and then 
the other. Feeding is confined to the early morning and late afternoon, 
the middle of the day being spent on water or ina marsh. Many descrip- 
tions of fields so covered with white geese that they appeared as if covered 
with snow have been written, and of course the Ross Snow Goose was 
partly responsible, for this bird is often found with the Lesser Snow Goose 
in mixed flocks. According to hunters of the San Joaquin Valley, the 
Lesser Snow Goose may be most common one year, and the Ross Snow 
Goose the following year. However, in most parts of the state the Ross 
Snow Goose is the less abundant of the two. 

The old name of “horned wavey,’’ doubtless applied to describe the 
warty character of the bill and the peculiar wavering motion of white 
geese in flight, is supplanted in our state by the term ‘“‘China Goose,”’ the 
origin of which is not known. 

California is responsible for the care of most of the geese in the west- 
ern part of the North American continent. It is high time she gave more 
than a passing thought to the possibility that at her door will be laid the 
blame for the near extermination of several species of geese. As the Ross 
Goose concentrates in our great valleys during the winter season, we are 
peculiarly responsible for its safety. Although it secures an immunity 
from persecution during the summer because of the seclusion of its breed- 
ing grounds, it could easily be blotted out of existence in winter, with 
nothing more than indifference to blame for it. With forethought the 
species may be assured a place in our fauna. The Federal Migratory Bird 
Law which has established a closed season and bag limit on all geese, adds 
greatly to the chance of preserving this unusual bird. 

Harovp C. BRYANT. 


1852 


7 
a 
_ 


=: 


awl setties for the winter in California. Two ranges of snowclad moun- 
Paine trove ney harrier tor this tireless traveler. 

“Tine Misa Case rarely flocks by itself, but congregates with flocks of 
tie Tasker Grew dsouse. Only the smaller size, about one-half the bulk, 
aad te peculiar corrugations on the bill separate it from the common 
Lesser Saw Goose, which it resembles in color. A trained ear can be 
fete! upon to distinguish flying birds by their call, which is shrill and of a 
tgisetto gualitv. Young birds are recognized by their grayer plumage. 
Wate geese, as a rule; fly ina U-shaped flock rather than in a distinct 
\-shape “ 

“ltheugh formerly often seen in the market, the Ross Snow Goose has 
ghways teen classified along with the Lesser Snow Goose as a less desirable 
tetvt for the table. The cheapness of these species in the market attested 
this also, The meat, although gamey in flavor, is dry and very dark. 

Yhis goose feeds like other geese, grass forming the principal item of 
fand. As the birds walk along they crop the grass on one side and then 
the other. Feeding is confined to the early morning and late afternoon, 
the middie of the day being spent on water or ina marsh. Many descrip- 
tions of fields so covered with white geese that they appeared as if covered 
with snow have been written, and of course the Ross Snow Goose was 
partly responsible, for this bird is often found with the Lesser Snow Goose 
in mixed flocks. According to hunters of the San Joaquin Valley, the 
ae Snow Goose ”) White-frontéd 'Goos aca and the Ross Snow 
xoose the foliowing year. fowever, im most parts of the state the Ross 
Snow Goose is the less abund Abert 2419.like, aize 

The old nahit™of MMenitler faieting by dons Agassi. Puerta to describe the 
warty character of the bill and the peculiar wavering motion of white 
geese in fight, is supplanted in our state by the term ‘‘China Goose,” the 


origin of which is not known. ote 
California is responsible for the care of most of the geese in the west- 
ern part of the North American continent. It is high time she gave more 
tae than a passing theught to the possibility that at her door will be laid the — 
ak blaine for the ear exqermination of several species of geese. As the Ross 
pusevtfates i) our great valleys during the winter season, we are 
arty tesponsibie jer iis safety, Although it secures an immunity 
tonk persecution during the summer because of the seclusion of its breed: . 
me groutris, it couk! easily be blotted out of existence in winter, with 


£ xOt3Se < 


sae, et @ehing more than imiiference to blame for it. With forethought the 
ec species may be assured a place in our fauna. The Federal Migratory Bird 
3 


bexc wich bas established a closed season and bag limit on all geese, adds*” 
Reutty ia che chance of preserving this unusual bird, 
Haroip C, BRYANT. 


rs Of ? 


The White-fronted Geese 


No. 374 


White-fronted Goose 


A. O. U. No. 171. Anser albifrons albifrons (Scopoli). 


Synonyms.—LAUGHING GOosE. GRAY BRANT. | SPECKLED BRANT. SPECKLE- 
BELLY. 

Description.—Adult: Forehead and region about the base of bill white,— 
the latter narrowly, and bordered immediately by dusky; remainder of head and neck 
all around warm grayish brown; the same color continued on back, fore-breast, and 
sides, but varied by lighter brownish gray tips of squarish-ended feathers, thus pre- 
senting a curious shingled appearance; underparts fading from grayish brown of 
breast to pure white posteriorly; the breast and belly irregularly spotted or heavily 
blotched with sooty black; the primaries grayish at base, blackening distally and with 
shafts mostly white; the tips of the greater coverts white, and the superior edges of 
the main course of side feathers (overlapping folded wing) also white; upper and lower 
tail-coverts, and lower belly well up on flank, and sides under folded wing, white; 
axillars and lining of wing uniform dusky; tail brownish dusky increasingly white- 
tipped on lateral feathers. Bill orange-yellow with white nail; feet orange or reddish. 
Immature: “‘Similar to adult, but forepart of head dusky instead of white; lower 
parts without black markings, and nail of bill dusky” (Ridgw.). Length about 685.8 
(27.00); wing 384-422 (15.1-16.6); bill 44-52 (1.73-2.047); tarsus 69.85 (2.75). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; speckled or ‘‘shingled’’ (black-blotched) 
belly; grayish brown coloration; white partial mask of face. As distinguished from 
A.a.gambeli: “Size small; bill small; tail-feathers sixteen; coloration in general paler, 
head and neck grayish; naked skin at edge of eyelid, grayish brown”’ (Swarth-Bryant). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground, of dried grass 
or tundra moss, feathers, and down. Eggs: 4 to 7; dull white, ‘‘weathering’’ and 
staining to dull greenish yellow, with obscure darker tints. Av. size 81.3 x 53.3 (3.20 x 
2.10). Season: Late May—June 15. 

Range of Anser albifrons——Northern portion of Northern Hemisphere, south 
in winter to California, Mexico, Cuba, Egypt, northern India, and China. 

Range of A. a. albifrons——Breeds in Arctic and sub-Arctic regions of the Old 
World, and in America from the islands of Bering Sea and Alaska east at least to 
Mackenzie; winters (in America) from British Columbia to Lower California and 
west central Mexico; also variously throughout the Eastern States from southern 
Illinois and New Jersey south to Cuba and northeastern Mexico, 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident and migrant in 
suitable localities throughout the State, but especially in the Sacramento-San Joaquin 
Valley. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Anser erythropus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1892, p. 98 (occurrence in Calif.; dates of 
arrival and departure, etc.); Swarth and Bryant, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xvii., 
1917, p. 209, pl., figs. (crit.; desc., meas., etc.). 


CALIFORNIA has always been noted for the number of geese that 
winter within its great interior valleys. In the early days, it was necessary 


1353 


The White-fronted Geese 


for the grain man to herd them from his fields, and the settlers of those 
days tell of the millions of geese which annually wintered in California. 
Some authorities believe that there is hardly one goose now to one hun- 
dred which were formerly to be seen. Even decimated as they are, geese 
still congregate in numbers in certain localities, and goose-hunting remains 
a favorite sport. Five different varieties of geese are sometimes seen in 
one bag, an unheard-of thing in other states! 

When the geese first arrive in the fall, and again when they leave in 
the spring, a constant stream of wedge-shaped flocks pass overhead; and 
even at night, if the moon be shining, the calls of passing flocks may be 
noted. Some large gander is usually in the lead, and seldom is the pace- 
maker seen to be relieved by a companion. 

Easily picked out among feeding flocks of geese are the gray ones with 
orange-colored legs and feet, and breasts blotched with black. A closer 


Photo by F. H. Holmes 
WHITE-FRONTED GEESE AND SNOW GEESE 


view discloses the white forehead, giving rise to the name white-fronted 
goose. The loud harsh calls are stated by hunters to be of a peculiar quality, 
and to resemble the syllable ‘‘wah,’’ and the Indians are said to imitate 


1854 


The White-fronted Geese 


this call by patting the mouth. The species is sometimes called “laughing 
goose,’’ in part, perhaps, on account of its grinning expression, but also no 
doubt because these ‘“‘wah wah wah”’ notes are thought to resemble human 
laughter. The speckle-bellies call 
much less often than white geese and 
they are sometimes recognized by 
their silence. In flight, calls 
seem to be restricted to 
a few “peer wekes’’ by 
the leader. 

Of the two varieties 
of white-fronted goose, 
the ‘‘speckle-belly’’— 


Gg a” 


Lo anys = 2) OO SE or 
‘ vy 
‘“checker-breast of the Taken in San Francisco Photo by W. K. Fisher 
hunter—is the smaller WHITE-FRONTED GEESE 


O WING-TIPPED BIRDS IN GOLDEN GATE PARK 
and most common in 


California. A giant form rarely seen is called the Tule Goose. Although 
found throughout central and western North America and northeastern 
Asia in winter, the breeding grounds are restricted to the Arctic coast from 
northeastern Siberia east to northeastern Mackenzie and south to the 
lower Yukon valley. 

The white-fronted goose is widely distributed over the state during 
the winter season, even frequenting some of the islands in the Santa Bar- 
bara Channel, but it is most numerous on the open plains and in the exten- 
sive marshes of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin valleys. There is 
considerable fluctuation in numbers from year to year, however. Of the 
many varieties wintering in California, this goose is usually first to arrive 
in the fall and the last to leave in the spring. Eagerly they seem to take 
possession of these great bountiful valleys, and loth are they to leave them 
for colder climes. It has even been recorded as early as September 7 and 
as late as May 3. Newspaper articles predicting an early winter because 
of the arrival of northern migrants are usually based on the early arrival 
of this goose. 

During the middle of the day white-fronted geese usually loaf on 
some body of water, or stretch of marsh, feeding early in the morning, in 
the evening, or during the night. The flights from the loafing grounds to 
the feeding grounds are oftentimes very regular, the time of arrival and 
departure not varying more than fifteen minutes. During periods of 
stormy weather, these geese often fly over in large flocks, apparently with 
no definite object in view other than change of feeding ground. 

The food of the white-fronted goose is made up almost entirely of 


1855 


The White-fronted Geese 


grass. It is not averse, however, to feeding on sprouting grain, and in 
years past it has been responsible, along with other geese, for considerable 
damage to grain. 

The speckle-breast is one of the most highly prized geese for food, 
and formerly was a common bird on the market. The fact that it can be 
easily approached by the gunner may also account for its frequent use as 
a table bird. Pits dug in the ground in localities where the birds are known 
to fly regularly are most commonly used as blinds in hunting them. In 
market hunting some ruse, such as hiding behind a grazing steer or horse, 
was formerly resorted to in order to make a good kill. Hunting of this 
sort, ‘‘bull-hunting,”’ allowed of unjustifiable slaughter, hundreds of geese 
sometimes being killed by four shots from a large-bore gun,—with the 
result that laws were passed which eliminated it. At one time so abun- 
dant that ranchers had to herd geese from their grain fields, they are now 
so greatly reduced that there is probably not more than one bird to the 
hundred formerly found in this state, as noted above. Until recent years 
geese received no protection whatever, and since their numbers are con- 
centrated in California during the winter season, a false idea of their real 
numbers has become current. 

Large flocks of geese utilize Tulare Lake as a loafing ground. A few 
years ago a dry winter forced these birds to feed in the near-by reclaimed 
areas planted to grain. Asa result some damage was done, but as is often 
the case, it was greatly exaggerated. In many instances, the cropping 
of the plants improved conditions by making them stool out better. 
Reports later showed that a record harvest had been made on the very 
ranches where complaint was greatest. The situation was fortunately 
relieved by a rainstorm which sprouted the grass and scattered the birds. 

Harrop C. BRYANT. 


No. 374a Tule Goose 


A. O. U. No. 171a. Anser albifrons gambeli Hartlaub. 

Synonyms.—AMERICAN WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE. CALIFORNIA GOOSE. 

Description.—Similar to A. a. albifrons, but size much larger; bill, especially, 
larger. ‘‘Coloration in general darker, neck dark brown, head blackish; tail feathers, 
male, eighteen, female, sixteen; naked skin at edge of eyelid, yellow or orange’ (Swarth- 
Bryant). Length 762 (30.00) or over; wing 420-475 (16.54-18.70); bill 53-62 (2.086- 
2.44). 

Nesting.—Not distinguished from that of preceding form. 

Range of A. a. gambeli—Known only from its winter home in California. Sur- 
mised to breed in the American Arctic somewhere east of the range of A. a. albifrons. 

Distribution in California.—Known only from the tule sloughs of Butte 
Creek in the north-central Sacramento Valley. 

Authorities.—Swarth and Bryant, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xvii., 1917, 
p. 200, pl., figs. (crit., desc., meas., etc.). 


1856 


The White-fronted Geese 


UNTIL RECENTLY it was supposed that but one variety of the 
white-fronted goose was to be found in California, but persistent rumors of 
a very large variety which occasionally appeared in the marshes near the 
Marysville Buttes in Sutter County led to the discovery of a heretofore 
unrecognized bird for the state. This larger white-fronted goose was 
known locally to hunters as the “tule,” or “timber goose,’’ and the 
former name has now been officially applied to it. However, the new 
bird assumed the scientific name of the common white-fronted goose, 
which in turn has had to take the name of the European species, from 
which it does not differ. We thus have among the white-fronted geese 
three different varieties of like coloration, but of unequal size, just as we 
have three ‘“‘editions”’ of the Canada goose. The tule goose is comparable 
to the Canada goose, the white-fronted to the Hutchins, and the small 
Asiatic white-fronted to the cackling goose. 

Why the tule goose did not find a recognized place among the water- 
fowl of this state many years ago is the more difficult to explain when 
we consider the extensive hunting by sportsmen and the thorough study 
of our bird life by naturalists. Even the meager knowledge that we now 
have shows the tule goose to differ from the white-fronted goose in appear- 
ance, habits, and call-notes. 

As a rule, tule geese are to be found in small flocks, separated from 
flocks of the common white-fronted goose, perhaps feeling a little superior 
to them. In flight the longer neck of the tule goose is quite noticeable 
as it is silhouetted against the sky. The larger bird frequents the water 
of the ponds and sloughs surrounded by tule and willows, is more wild, 
resorts to remote places, and its notes appear to be sufficiently coarse 
and harsh so that its calls can easily be distinguished by a hunter. This 
goose is difficult to secure because of its seclusive habits, and because 
it is not easily decoyed, and this may account in some measure for its 
rarity. 

In hand, the tule goose is recognized by its large size, comparing in 
bulk to the honker and weighing from 6% to 7% pounds before being 
dressed. The average length of the bill is 57 millimeters, as against 
48 for the white-fronted goose. All of the specimens thus far examined 
possessed a conspicuous yellow eyelid when fresh. 

Although all the known specimens of the tule goose have been taken 
from a limited area in the Sacramento Valley, yet this goose may have a 
wide distribution in California, and may even be found more abundant 
in other states. Owing to a lack of specimens of breeding birds, we have 
not even a limited knowledge of the summer home of this goose. It 
seems probable that the breeding grounds of this species when found will 
lie east of those of the white-fronted goose in Alaska, in which case the 


13857 


The Canada Geese 


main migration of the species may be through the Mississippi Valley. 
The original description of the tule goose, as given by Hartlaub, was 
made from a specimen taken in “‘Southern North America.” 

The sportsman or naturalist fortunate enough to secure a tule goose 
may credit himself with one of the giants among the geese and one of the 
rarer water birds of the state, one long overlooked by scientists. 

Harotp C. BRYANT 


No. 375 


Canada Goose 


A. O. U. No. 172. Branta canadensis canadensis (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—‘‘WILp Goose.”’ Common WILD Goose. HONKER. 

Description.—Adult: Head and neck glossy black; a large white triangular 
patch on either cheek, the two usually confluent on throat—occasionally an indistinct 
white collar at base of black; back and wings rich grayish brown; fore-breast and 
below lighter grayish brown, tipped with pale fulvous or grayish white; heavier toned 
on sides, where presenting a shingled appearance and shading into color of back; 
lower belly, under tail-coverts, longer upper tail-coverts and flanks well up on rump, 
pure white; rump and tail black; primaries blackening at tips; bill black; feet dusky. 
Tail 18-20-feathered. Immature: Similar, but white of cheeks and throat more or 
less mixed with blackish. Length 889-1066.8 (35.00-42.00); wing 508 (20.00); tail 
177.8 (7.00); bill 58.4 (2.30); tarsus 90.2 (3.55). 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; black head and neck with white cheek- 
patches connected across throat, and large size, distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: Of twigs, reeds, weed-stems, grasses, and the like, lined with 
down, often massive, sometimes very scant; on the ground, on a cliff, or in a tree (a 
deserted Osprey’s nest and the like). Eggs: 4 to 7; pure white, becoming dingy, 
“dull yellowish white,’ or even dull greenish gray as incubation advances. Av. size 
86 x 58 (3.386 x 2.28); index 67.4. Season: April 15—-May 15. 

Range of Branta canadensis.—North America, breeding from the central Western 
States and northern California north to extreme Alaska and the Arctic coasts and 
islands; wintering south to the Southern States. 

Range of B. c. canadensis—Interior North America. Breeds west to the Cas- 
cade-Sierra Mountains and to the limit of trees in the lower Yukon Valley, Alaska, 
north to northwestern Mackenzie (interiorly), and central Keewatin, east (formerly) 
to Massachusetts, south to Tennessee (formerly), New Mexico, and northeastern 
California. Winters from southern British Columbia, southern Colorado, southern 
Wisconsin, and New Jersey, south to Florida, Texas, and southern California. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident (fugitive) at the 
lower levels, especially interiorly, south to San Diego. Sparingly resident in summer 
in the northeastern plateau region, breeding from Lower Klamath Lake and Goose 
Lake and, formerly at least, the Surprise Valley, south to Lake Tahoe. 


1858 


The Canada Geese 


Authorities.—Gambel (Anser canadensis), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Belding, Zoe, vol. ili., 1892, pp. 99, 100 (occurrence in Calif.) ; 
Ray, Condor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 67, figs. (nesting at Lake Tahoe; desc. habits, nest and 
eggs); Swarth, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xii., 1913, p. 1, figs. (occurrence in Calif. ; 
crit., desc., meas., etc.). 


HONK, honk—honk, honk! What a stirring sound is that which 
summons us from whatever task indoors, and hurries us out hatless, 
breathless, into the crisp March air to behold a company of wild geese 
passing forward into the frosty North! Honk, honk! We think madly 
of our gun upstairs, for the geese are provokingly near, and we hear the 
thrilling swish of the low-sweeping wings; but we take it out in great 
boasts to our similarly hatless neighbor, of what we could have done if 
the gun had been put together and we had known that those foolish 
geese were coming right over town. And when the great birds become 
a row of trailing points on the northern sky, a fever of strange unrest 
burns within our veins, 
and we wonder through 
what ancestral folly our 
wings were clipped, and 
our race condemned to 
unceasing barnyard 
toil. 

The Canada Goose 
has only two cardinal 
points on his compass, 
North and South; and 
unlike most migrants, he 
does not go by the map, 
nor follow favorite paths 
through the air, but flies 
straight over hill and 
dale, city and hamlet 
alike, until the goal is 
reached, or until the 
weather discourages Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
further movement for a DOMESTICATED ee eee ee WILD EGGS 
time. The geese move 
usually at a considerable height, forming open V-shaped figures, with 
the oldest or strongest gander in the lead at the apex; or else in single 
oblique lines. Each bird demands as clear a field as possible, and this 
is best secured by an arrangement which allows each goose to look over 
the wing of the one next preceding, right or left, according to the branch 


1859 


The Canada Geese 


of the V which it occupies. The line of march shifts and changes under 
the eye, as the hindmost birds become dissatisfied with their positions, 
and change sides, or as tired leaders give place to fresher birds; and 
the changes are accomplished not without much lordly discussion in high- 
pitched honks. 

When selecting a pond or corner of the lake in which to spend the 
night, the birds first circle about cautiously at a safe height, and then 
slide down the air from a point a mile or so away, approaching the water 
silently and at a low angle. In rising from the water or the ground, 
the Geese prefer to make a little run or preliminary flutter, to get head- 
way, but are capable of clearing either the water or the ground by a 
sudden spring. 

So the author wrote in ‘‘The Birds of Ohio” some twenty years ago. 
And what was there said holds good of 
the Honker everywhere, save that in 
the southern portion of its range, the 
Canada Goose clears for the North in 
February instead of March. 

Like most geese, this species feeds 
principally upon grass and tender herb- 
age, berries, sedge-roots, and aquatic 
plants. The stubble-fields of the Sac- 
ramento Valley have been for three quar- 
ters of a century past the classical resort 
of the Canada Goose and its congeners. 
In winter the birds are very regular about 
their meals, rising punctually an hour or 
so before daybreak, and flying to the 
distant fields to glean for two or three 
hours the fallen morsels of wheat. The 
middle of the day is spent upon the pond 
or in some backwater bayou, dabbling 
for watercress and duck weed, or else 
enjoying one-legged slumbers on the sand- 
bar. Hunger drives them to forage again 
late in the afternoon, usually to the same 
spot visited in the morning. At such 
times the geese are exceedingly vigilant 
and wary. And it would appear that 
when feeding upon the ground one or 
more of their number are charged with sentry duty. 

Their suspicion of all mankind is deeply planted and freshly watered, 
but the goose psychology works under several limitations. A lone goose 


7860 


| | 


Taken in British Columbia Photo by E. D. Sismey 
NEST AND EGGS OF CANADA GOOSE 


The Canada Geese 


for instance, having none to counsel 
him, appears at times to be quite in- 
capable of making decision, and allows 
the fatal approach of the hunter. The 
situation is still further compromised 
if the lone bird happens to alight 
among decoys. “It’s plumb scanda- 
lous,” reasons the bird, “‘the man is 
coming and these birds stand here like 
clods. But they ought to know; 
they were here first.’ And the 
z real bird awaits his doom. Mr. 
Bowles tells me that under such cir- 

cumstances he once killed a perfect- 

ly able-bodied bird with a stone. 

They are not afraid of cattle, 
however, and in the less scrupulous 
days the pasturing flocks were 
slaughtered by hunters who had 
approached under shelter of a led 
horse or a cow. Sometimes a 
sportive heifer will resent the in- 
trusion of wild ducks or geese upon 
her domain, and it is most amus- 

Taken in Washington Photo by the Author ing under such circumstances to 

aoe oa see the astonished fowls scramble 

out of the “cow critter’s’’ way as she charges about and hooks at them. 

Such a departure from the established order of things constitutes a quite 

unclassifiable phenomenon, and the birds never think of escape by 
flight. 

Let a gunner come creeping along the ground on hands and knees, 
and his guile is detected at half a mile, yet the self-same birds appear to 
have no conception of a danger which lies below the surface of the ground. 
Advantage is taken of this weakness through the digging of shooting-pits 
in the wheat-fields of the Sacramento country. Tame birds or wooden 
decoys are put out, and it makes no difference how many wild geese 
pass overhead, so the hunter keeps to his pit until the birds are settling. 

But the palmy days of shooting are over, they tell us. Our fathers 
helped themselves a little too liberally. What with market shooting and 
the increased settlement of the Northland, the wild things have been 
reduced to a shadow of their former substance. The youngster, indeed, 
may think he is seeing ‘‘a lot of birds” if a dozen Honkers thrill his young 


TSOI 


The Canada Geese 


ears; but the old hand knows that it is about time to put up the gun and 
to study natural history instead. 

Fortunately, opportunity still remains, even in California, for those 
who wish to study the wild goose at home. The Honker still breeds in 
very limited numbers, as far south as Lake Tahoe. It has also been 
reported within a dozen years both at Eagle Lake and at Lower Klamath; 
and in 1912 I found it breeding at Goose Lake, in Modoc County. It is 
unquestionably the elevation of these lakes. (Goose Lake is nearly a mile 
high) which makes them a congenial home for a species which ordinarily 
nests much farther north. 

Canada Geese always nest in fair proximity to water; but the precise 
nature of the nest support, or of the materials (if any) used in construction, 
vary with local conditions. The site may be an old muskrat’s nest, or 
a bed of tumble-down tules in a swamp, or a low-lying grassy island in a 
lake; or it may be a rocky islet, a rough hillside, or even (in the North, at 
least) an ancient nest of Buzzard or Osprey. A few sticks and grasses 
may serve to hold the eggs in place on a flat stone, or a tasty pyramid 
of grasses and soft trash may support from four to seven dingy white 
or dull buffy eggs, deeply imbedded in down. Some eggs collected 
by the Treganzas in the vicinity of Salt Lake are glistening white. Ray 
describes those obtained at Tahoe! as dull yellowish white, but I have 
seen northern eggs, near hatching, which were nothing less than dull 
greenish buff. 

The sitting goose remains at her post for four weeks, and she is 
attended by the gander, who maintains a constant vigil at her side and 
accompanies her during the foraging trips. The goslings, when hatched, 
are covered with down of a bright grass-green hue, mottled with a shade 
of olive. They swim from the shell; and by the second or third day they 
have attained such robustness that their capture by hand from a boat 
is a very difficult matter. Hiding is the long suit of the mother goose 
when in charge of a tender brood; and if surprised at such a time in open 
water, she manages to “‘scootch’”’ down and hug her feathers close until she 
does not appear above one-third her normal size. If the ruse is discovered 
she flees reluctantly and summons her mate, who joins his anxious cries 
with hers, Honka-honka-honka! The Geese, while fairly solitary as to the 
positions of the nests themselves, begin to reassemble as soon as their 
broods are hatched. Under the threat of a common danger the local clan 
musters, and youngsters of every age join their mothers in a raft which 
moves off over the water asaunit. It was sucha flock of thirty-five mem- 
bers which we saw on the roth of June on Goose Lake, although the 
youngsters at the time were none of them over half grown. 


1 Milton S. Ray in The Condor, Vol, XIV., March 1912, p. 68. 


TS62 


The Canada Geese 
The opprobrious use of such words as “‘gull,”’ “‘goose”’ and “‘loon”’ is, 
we suspect, rather a record of human narrow-mindedness than a lawful in- 
dictment of the birds sonamed. In particular the great American Goose 
is anything but a ‘“‘goose’’ when it comes to matching wits against the 
“human warious.”’ In the struggle for existence, this bird has displayed a 
shrewdness, a cunning, a degree of intelligence, as well as a devotion of 
parental duty, which might well command the admiration of any sincere 
sportsman. Judged even by the lowest standards of appreciation, the 
goose is noble quarry; and so judged, not even the most ardent pursuer 
would wish to see the race exterminated. It is time, then, to call a halt. 
No race of birds, however gifted, can stand up forever against the purpose- 
ful assaults of Christendom. The Canada Goose is doomed to extinction 
unless the bag-limit can be still further reduced, and the species accorded 
a definite and absolute protection during the nesting season. 


No. 375a Hutchins’s Goose 


A. O. U. No. 172a. Branta canadensis hutchinsi (Richardson). 

Synonyms.—LEeEssErR CANADA Goose. LITTLE WiLp GoosE. GRAY BRANT. 

Description.— Precisely similar to preceding species in coloration, but averaging 
smaller; tail, normally 16-feathered. Length 635-863.6 (25.00-34.00); wing 431.8 
(17.00); tail 152.4 (6.00); bill 44.5 (1.75); tarsus 76.2 (3.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant to eagle size; like preceding form but smaller. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: In tundra, of grass, moss, 
and feathers, with abundant down. Eggs: 4 to 6; white, yellowing and soiling with 
age. Av. size 79 x 53.5 (3.12 x 2.10); index 67.3. Season: June. 

Range of B. c. hutchinsi—Breeds along the Arctic Coast from northwestern 
Alaska to the western shore of Hudson Bay. Winters from British Columbia, Colo- 
rado, and Missouri south to Louisiana, Texas, and Lower California. 

Distribution in California.—Common winter resident and migrant at lower 
levels practically throughout the State. 


Authorities.—Gambel (Anser hutchinsii), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1892, p. 99 (occurrence in Calif.; dates 
of arrival and departure, etc.); Swarth, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xii., 1913, p. I, pls., 
figs. (occurrence in Calif.; crit., desc., meas., etc.). 


EVERY SCHOOLBOY in the interior of California has awakened in 
him the desire to know more about the migration of waterfowl as he hears 
the noisy “‘honk, honk”’ of flock after flock of geese passing overhead. Not 
only schoolboys but every one with the least touch of mysticism—and who 
has not this sense to a more or less degree?—is thrilled as the flocks pass 
over by day, and the calls are heard at night. Naturally, these questions 
always follow: ‘‘What kind of birds are those? where do they come from? 
where are they going? and why do they fly in V-shaped flocks?” 


7503 


The Canada Geese 


Taken on the grounds of the Sacramento Outing Club, near Photo by H. C. Bryant 
Pennington, Sutter County Use by courtesy California Fish and Game Commission 


HUTCHINS GEESE 


Of the nine varieties of geese wintering here the Hutchins goose and 
the cackling goose, often collectively called ‘‘brant’’ by the hunter, are 
most abundant, perhaps due to the direct route available from their 
nesting grounds in Alaska. 

It has been distinctly proved that the California geese with black 
heads and white cheeks range in size from the honker, with a total length 
of about forty inches, to the cackling goose, with an average length of 
but twenty-four inches. On the main basis of size and separate flocking 
and breeding grounds, they are divided into three varieties. The Hutch- 
ins goose is intermediate in size between the Canada and the cackling 
goose; and in its return to its northern home it goes further north than 
the other forms of the Canada goose, even nesting along the shores and 
islands of the Arctic coast, near the mouth of the Mackenzie River. 
The southernmost breeding stations are found upon the Aleutian 
and Near Islands. Most of the birds of this species spend the winter in 
California, though a few are to be found in the southern United States, 
west of the Mississippi River. 

White cheeks and black legs and feet are characteristic of all mem- 
bers of the Canada group. Variety distinction is largely dependent on 
size. The Hutchins goose is said to be more noisy than its larger relative, 
the Canada goose, but lacks the falsetto cries of the cackling goose. 


1804 


The Canada Geese 


The reason for the V-shaped flock formation, so characteristic of the 
Canada goose and related species, although not positively known, is 
commonly explained on the basis of air resistance. Just as a pace-maker 
in athletics is accustomed to take the brunt of the air resistance, so an 
old gander takes the heaviest of the labor. The V-shape at the same time 
allows each bird in the flock to see what lies ahead. 

Geese, when flying high, give the appearance of moving slowly, and 
the stroke of the wing is hardly noticeable. When near by, however, it 
can be seen that in reality they move rapidly. The difficulty that these 
heavy birds have in starting, unless able to fly into the wind, has given 
opportunity to hunters for a close shot by driving quickly towards the 
birds and making them fly with the wind instead of against it. 

Geese spend more of their time on land than do ducks, and loco- 
motion is made easier by longer legs placed farther forward. When 
feeding in the water they tilt like surface-feeding ducks. When a flock 


Taken in San Francisco Photo by the Author 


HUTCHINS GEESE IN GOLDEN GATE PARK 
Oe 
IS O 5 


The Canada Geese 


is feeding in the open fields, certain birds appear to act as sentinels, and 
these give the warning to the feeding birds of the approach of any danger. 
Geese when feeding, are silent, but when startled and ready to take 
flight, continually call. Whenever geese are flying overhead, the feeding 
birds on the ground set up a great racket which is apparently an attempt 
to attract the flying birds. 

The feeding habits of the Hutchins goose are similar to those of the 
snow and white-fronted goose. They usually loaf on some large body of 
water, flying twice a day to large open grain-fields in the vicinity, Newly 
sprouted grain-fields are often cropped short, and in many instances, if 
the grain is just sprouting, are seriously injured. Fortunately, the 
birds spend much of their time in stubble-fields, especially if plenty of 
grass is available. 

Where Butte Creek enters the Sacramento River, just west of the 
Marysville Buttes in Sutter County, there is a large overflowed area 
which forms a splendid loafing place for innumerable waterfowl. During 
the winter season the water is filled with thousands of ducks, and the 
shore and open fields adjacent covered with geese. All the different 
varieties are to be found here, but usually the Hutchins and cackling 
geese are most in evidence. Just before sunrise, flock after flock are to 
be seen flying eastward to the open grain-fields, and about late forenoon a 
constant stream of birds passes overhead towards the open water. Prob- 
ably there are few places left in the world where geese congregate in such 
large numbers. Early spring visitors to such high mountain lakes as 
Lake Tahoe and Honey Lake report large numbers of migrating geese. 
It appears that these lakes form a desirable stopping place on their 
northward migration. 

The usual mode of hunting geese is to select some open field where 
geese are known to congregate. Pits about 30 inches in diameter are dug 
in the ground and all the earth removed to a distance so that the ground 
has no unusual appearance which might frighten the geese. Live decoy 
geese are then placed in wire cages near the pits. These decoy geese 
attract by their calls the wild birds flying overhead, and soon birds are 
dropping in. The hunters concealed in the holes fire at the birds on the 
wing. The geese killed are quickly made to act as additional decoys by 
staking them up on wires or forked sticks. Less often geese are hunted 
from duck-blinds placed in a marsh. Like other geese, this species be- 
comes utterly confused in a fog, and invariably flies close enough to the 
ground to utilize landmarks. At such times the wing shooter is afforded 
better shots at geese. 

Haroip C. BRYANT 


T8606 


The Canada Geese 


No. 375b Cackling Goose 


A. O. U. No. 172c. Branta canadensis minima Ridgway. 

Synonyms.—Gray Brant. LEAsT CANADA GOOSE. 

Description.—Similar to B. canadensis, but coloration darker, especially on 
underparts,—a deep grayish brown abruptly defined against white of crissum; white 
half-collar at base of black on neck usually more distinct; white cheek-patches usually 
separated by black stripe, or at least black mottling, on central line of throat, shading 
into type by insensible gradations; tail normally 14-16-feathered. Length 584.2-635 
(23.00-25.00); wing 345.4-368.3 (13.60-14.50); bill 24.1-29.2 (.95-1.15); tarsus 61-69.9 
(2.40-2.75). 

Recognition Marks.—Size of Mallard; gray coloration; smallest of the Canada 
Geese. 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: On the ground, of weeds and 
grasses, lined with down. Eggs: 4 to 9; dull yellowish white, soon becoming dingy or 
dull greenish gray. Av. size 76.2 x 50.8 (3.00 x 2.00). Season: May 15—-June 15. 

Range of B. c. minima.—Western North America. Breeds in the Aleutian 
Islands and along the Alaskan coast from the base of the Alaska peninsula north to 
Norton Sound. Winters along the Pacific slope from British Columbia to southern 
California. 

Distribution in California.—Common winter resident, chiefly in the Sacra- 
mento-San Joaquin Valley, but also south to San Diego. 

Authorities.—Cassin (Bernicla leucoparia), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
xiv., 1862, p. 323 (San Francisco); Belding, Zoe, vol. iii., 1892, p. 100 (occurrence in 
Calif.; dates of arrival and departure, etc.); Swarth, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. xii., 
1913, p. I, pls., figs. (occurrence in Calif.; crit., desc., meas., etc.). 


LONG before the eastern tourist found in California an ideal place 
for his winter sojourn, millions of waterfowl had chosen the great interior 
valleys of the State for their winter home. Indeed, our histories are full 
of statements regarding the enormous numbers of waterfowl which 
annually made their appearance in the State when the northern winter, 
hoary and foreboding in its approach, drove them southward to more 
genial climes. 

An easterner, writing about California geese in 1891, was tempted to 
say, “I thought that I had seen geese and brant in Dakota, but, like 
Uncle Toby’s reminiscences, they were ‘nothing to this.’ Snow geese, 
in white and glistening ranks on the edges of the green grain; gray geese, 
wavering up and down in slow-waving flocks against the horizon; de- 
liberate geese, only getting up as the train was just upon them; frightened 
geese, rising on nervous pinions from some sedgy pool by the roadbed, 
geese, geese, geese! While here and there over the green fields moved 
men and boys mounted and armed with rifles, actually herding the geese 
off the sprouting grain ys 

From among the many eeece which winter with us, a very insignificant 


1867 


The Canada Geese 


one, if size be the criterion, stands out from the rest because of its high- 
pitched, oft-repeated call-note. The cackling goose, or ‘‘yelper,”’ is well 
named. It is the smallest of the three varieties of Canada goose, all of 
which are similarly colored. Along with the Hutchins goose, the cackling 
is one of the best known among the geese because of its abundance. 

It takes a prominent place among the countless flocks streaming 
northward by day and in the unceasing clangor by night which accom- 
panies the return to northern climes. In fact, the cackling goose is often- 
times more abundant than any other variety. In former years, when sale 
was allowed, this variety along with the Hutchins goose was most often to 
be found in the market, where it sold under the name of “brant.” 

Although its nesting grounds in Alaska lie to the south of those occu- 
pied by the Hutchins goose, the birds arrive in our great valleys at about 
the same time, usually the first or second week in October. Having the 
same habits and often flocking with Hutchins geese, it would be difficult to 
distinguish the two, were it not for the smaller size and higher pitched 
call. Even with these distinctive characters, identification must be left 
to one familiar with the birds unless they are close at hand. 

The breeding grounds in northern Alaska are the scene of great com- 
motion when the geese return in the spring. According to Nelson, many 
pitched battles, where bills and wings are used as weapons, take place 
among the male cackling geese, and loud calls of many different water- 
fowl fill the air. The cackling goose builds its nest in the grass on the 
borders of ponds or on some small knoll. By the time the full set of eggs 
is deposited, the nest has been lined with soft down-feathers plucked 
from the female’s breast. These serve to make a soft lining, and help 
keep the eggs concealed and warm when the parent is away seeking food. 
Parents are very solicitous for their young and become reckless in the face 
of danger. 

The goose hunter in the early days took up his position in a ditch 
or behind a hedge or even lay flat on his back in a patch of weeds, choos- 
ing foggy days when the birds were flying low. In this way, good kills 
were made. Then, too, a fast horse and light buggy out on the plains, if 
manoeuvered properly, allowed of near approach to feeding birds. Nowa- 
days, a pit situated where a river or slough makes a sharp turn is produc- 
tive of best results, although the automobile is sometimes substituted 
for the fast horse and light buggy. 

Although to past generations the coming and going of the geese in 
their migration was such a familiar sight as to be largely overlooked, 
future generations will doubtless be deprived of this interesting phenom- 
enon. There are many locations in the State, particularly in the middle 
coast counties and in southern California, where geese are now so scarce 


TS68 


The Brant 


as to be an object of great interest. It is to be hoped that the rigid laws 
of the past few years, reducing the bag-limit and preventing sale, will 
do much to conserve the remnant of the millions of geese which formerly 
spent the winter season in our State. 

Haro_tp C. BRYANT 


A. O. U. No. 173. Branta bernicla bernicla (Linnzus). 

Description.—Similar to B. b. nigricans, but lighter in coloration; breast light 
ashy gray in abrupt contrast with black of jugulum, fading on lower belly into white 
of crissum, shading on sides to darker; patch of white streaks on sides of upper neck 
reduced, and not meeting fellow in front. Size of B. b. nigricans. 

Nesting.— Nest and Eggs: Like those of next species. 

Range of Branta bernicla—Arctic coasts and islands of the Northern Hemi- 
sphere; in winter south to the shores of northern Europe, or rarely, the Mediterranean; 
Japan, Lower California, and North Carolina. 

Range of B. b. bernicla—Breeds in the highest Arctic regions of the Old World, 
in Greenland and the islands of the American Arctic, west to about Longitude 100°. 
In America, winters south regularly along the Atlantic Coast from Massachusetts to 
North Carolina, rarely to Florida, and occasionally at various interior points south to 
Louisiana. Casual in British Columbia and California. 

Occurrence in California.—Casual, one positive record, of a bird killed on 
Arcata Bay, Humboldt County, Jan. 30, 1914 (Bryant). 

Authorities.—H. C. Bryant (Branta bernicla glaucogastra), Condor, vol. xvi., 
1914, p. 183 (Arcata Bay, Humboldt Co., Jan. 30, 1914, one spec.). 


No. 376a Black Brant 


A. O. U. No. 174. Branta bernicia nigricans (Lawrence). 

Description.—Adult: Head and neck all around, and chest, glossy black, 
shading into sooty brown on back and wings, into sooty black or deep slate on under- 
parts; remiges and tail black; an incomplete white collar on upper neck, broadest on 
sides, interrupted behind, and occasionally in front; upper tail-coverts and crissum 
white in strong contrast to surrounding parts. Bill and feet black; iris brown. Imma- 
ture: Like adult but white collar indistinct or want ng; greater coverts and secondaries 
broadly tipped with white; sides and flanks brownish gray. Length of adult 558.8- 
736.6 (22.00-29.00); wing 323.9-342.9 (12.75-13.50); bill 32.5 (1.28); tarsus 60.9 (2.40). 

Recognition Marks.—Standard of Brant size; black coloration with strong'y 
contrasting wh te of upper tail-coverts (and crissum) distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A depression in ground, 
heavily lined with down. Eggs: 4 to 6; pale creamy white or ivory-yellow. Av. 
size 71.5 X 47 (2.82 x 1.85). Season: June-July; one brood. 


7TSO9 


The Brant 


Range of B. b. nigricans.—Western North America and eastern Asia. Breeds 
along the Arctic Coast and on adjacent islands. In America, breeds from about 
Longitude 100° West, to Point Barrow, Alaska, and northerly. Winters from coasts 
of British Columbia south to Scammons Lagoon, Lower California, and sparingly 
in the interior of Oregon, Nevada, and California. Casual on the Atlantic Coast. 

Distribution in California#—Common migrant off shore and fairly common 
winter resident on Tomales and Humboldt bays; formerly much more abundant; 
wintering at various coastwise stations to San Diego Bay. Of rare occurrence in the 
interior. 

Authorities —Gambel (Bernicle brenta), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Belding, Zoe, vol. ili., 1892, p. 101 (occurrence in Calif.; dates of 
arrival and departure, etc.). 


“SEA” is a desirable addition to the common name of Branta bernicla 
nigricans, for the Black Sea Brant is never found, save by accident, away 
from salt water. Unlike all other California geese, it has no use for fallen 
wheat, and it keeps to the coast-line, both in winter and during migra- 
tions. Kelp-beds are favorite places of resort, and especially those which 
command the entrance of shallow bays where the sea wrack (Zostera 
marina) abounds. The Sea Brants come in with the tide and feed heartily 
on this grass, together, no doubt, with such incidental shell-fish as it may 
contain. They obtain this food both by tipping and diving, and when 
their appetites are satisfied, they gabble and float, or engage in friendly 
squabbles and mild pursuits. On the ebb of the tide they retire to the 
kelp-beds, or even to the open sea, to “‘raft’”’ and doze, until hunger drives 
them in again. Occasionally the Sea Brant ventures ashore, especially 
on a low sand-spit where a thorough command of the middle distances 
may be had; for the Black Brant is exceedingly wary. Dire experience 
has taught him the fickleness of humankind, and when it comes to saving 
his skin, he is no “‘goose.’”’ While the very difficulty of the task may well 
appeal to an ardent sportsman, it is generally conceded that the pursuit 
of Black Brants no longer “‘pays.’’ They are no such “‘great shakes,” 
anyway. An exaggerated use of their long wings, as the birds get under 
way, gives the beholder the impression of great weight, an impression 
which is not sustained in the hand, when the bird is seen to be disappoint- 
ingly light,—all feathers, in fact, as compared with the chunky Scoter, 
which does not equal it in extent of wing by a foot or more. 

From the esthetic point of view, the Black Sea Brant makes two 
appeals to the lover of nature. The mellow notes, cronk cronk cronk, 
which the birds frequently emit whether in flight or at rest, have the 
authentic thrill of the wild. They may be madrone trees, or even somber 
redwoods, which form the immediate background, but when one hears 
mellow croaking, as of a thousand bull-frogs, welling up from the bay 
front, he is immediately transported to the Arctic tundra, and in imagina- 


IS70 


The Brant 


tion he sees those grim, romantic wastes, where such creatures as these 
may cackle and croak and charge about in unmolested abandon of hap- 
piness. Cronk cronk cronk! you splendid trumpeter of the North! It is 
before such a sound that the walls of our prosaic Jerichos fall down. 

And there is the interest of their undulating flight, which Nelson 
has been at such pains to describe.! After noting that this species, unlike 
the Branta canadensis group, assumes a horizontal line in flight, the 
observer continues: ‘‘There is barely room enough between the indi- 
viduals to allow a free wing-stroke. Thus ranged, the flock seems gov- 
erned by a single impulse, which sends it gliding along parallel and close 
to the ground, then, apparently without any reason, careering thirty or 
forty yards overhead only to descend to its former level as suddenly as it 
was left; now it sways to one side and then to the other, while at short 
intervals swift undulations seem to run from one end of the line to the 
other. . . . A bird at either end of the flock rises or descends a few 
inches or several feet, as the case may be, and the movement is instantly 
followed in succession by every one of its companions till the extreme bird 
is reached and the entire flock is on the new level; or, it may be that a bird 
near the middle of the line changes its position, when the motion extends 
in two directions at once. These latter changes are made so regularly and 
with such rapidity that the distance between the birds does not appear 
altered in the least, while a motion exactly like a graceful undulation runs 
the length of the flock, lifting or depressing it to the level of the originator 
of the movement. These changes present to one’s eye as the flocks 
approach, keeping close to the ground, the appearance of a series of regular 
and swift waving-motions such as pass along a pennant in a slight breeze.”’ 

A report that the fortunes of these birds are given over to the sole 
keeping of California? proves to be quite at variance with the facts. It 
may be true that the Black Sea Brant no longer visits the waters of Lower 
California in such numbers as formerly, but it is certain that the birds 
winter commonly on Puget Sound, the Gulf of Georgia, and in the coastal 
waters of British Columbia generally. Suckley, writing in the Fifties, says 
explicitly: “‘These Brant are extremely abundant about the Straits of 
Fuca in winter.’ I have myself seen hundreds of them feeding on Semi- 
ahmoo Bay, near the 49th Parallel, in midwinter, and am under the im- 
pression that the bulk of the species will be found at that season north of 
the Columbia River. Nevertheless, it is true that certain sheltered bays 
of the Californian coast have always been favored places of resort, and 
immense numbers still repair in winter to Humboldt, Bodega, and 


1**Habits of the Black Brant in the Vicinity of St. Michaels, Alaska,’’ by E. W. Nelson, Bulletin of Nuttall 
Ornithological Club, Vol. VI., July, 1881, pp. 131-138. 

2““The Game Birds of California’ by Grinnell, Bryant and Storer (1918), p. 241. 

2Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Sury., Vol. XII., pt. II. (1860), p. 352. 


IS7T 


The Emperor Goose 


Tomales bays. Black Brants were formerly common at False Bay and 
San Diego Bay, as also at San Pedro; but the astute birds have long since 
resigned their claims upon these dangerous localities. 


No. 377 


Emperor Goose 


A. O. U. No. 176. Philacte canagica (Sevastianoff). 

Description.—Adult: General plumage bluish gray tinged with lilac, each 
feather sharply defined by a twinned crescent of black and white, producing a handsome 
scaled appearance; head and back of neck white, tinged with brownish yellow; throat 
and fore-neck, broadly, black; flight-feathers and their coverts slaty; tail white on ex- 
posed portions above, bluish dusky basally and below. Bill chiefly livid flesh-color; 
feet orange-yellow. Young birds are less conspicuously crescent-marked, and have 
head and neck dusky, speckled with white. Length of adult 635-711.2 (25.00-28.00); 
wing 381-431.8 (15.00-17.00); tail 127-152.4 (5.00-6.00); bill 38.1 (1.50); tarsus 76.2 
(3.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; fine scaled appearance; top and sides of head, 
and hind-neck, white, in sharp contrast with blackish of throat, distinctive; tail white. 

Nesting.— Does not breed in California. Nest: On upper beach, in driftwood; 
or in salt marsh, of grasses, dead leaves, and down. Eggs: 3 to 8, usually 4; dull 
white to dull ivory-yellow, becoming dingy ochraceous with age. Av. size 80.8 x 52.8 
(3.18 x 2.08). Season: June. 

General Range.—Coasts and islands of Alaska and northwestern Siberia. 
Breeds on the Tschukchi Peninsula, on St. Lawrence Island, and on the Alaskan shore 
from Kotzebue Sound south to the mouth of the Kuskokwim. Winters from the 
Commander and Near islands east through the Aleutians to Sitka, straggling south 
to California. 

Occurrence in California.— Rare winter visitor to the northern coast and west- 
ern interior—about a dozen records. 

Authorities.—C. H. Townsend, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 491 (Humboldt Bay, 
winter of 1884); Nelson, Rep. Nat. Hist. Coll. Alaska, 1887, p. 90 (desc. nesting habits, 
nest, and eggs; Alaska); H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, p. 92 (Sacramento and 
San Joaquin valleys, several specimens); zbid., vol. xvii., 1917, p. 58 (Davis, Yolo Co.). 


THE BOAST that all geese come to California is almost literally true 
so far as the western Anseres are concerned.! Ten species (and subspecies) 
is not a bad showing for a single state, and especially where only one 
species (B. c. canadensis) remains to breed. Of those which come south in 
late autumn the Emperor Goose is next to the rarest, and its occurrences, 
still to be numbered on the fingers and toes, are to be rated casual rather 
than regular. And curiously enough, this species, strictly maritime in its 
northern haunts, has often yielded to the lure of the great interior valley, 


1 The only exception among the Geese of the North Pacific being Branta canadensis occidentalis, which was for 
years erroneously attributed to our avifauna, 


1872 


The Emperor Goose 


having been recorded from Colusa, Solano, and Stanislaus counties, and 
once as far south as Ingomar, in Merced.! 

While undoubtedly a handsome bird, there is nothing imperial about 
either the appearance or the behavior of this “‘Emperor’’ Goose. Indeed, 
the name is said to have arisen from an ignorant confusion of the Russian 
designation Sa sar’ka (meaning a Guinea Hen, which the Goose does 
resemble, superficially, by reason of its scaled appearance) and tsarskie, 
Tsar-like, or ‘‘imperial.”” A fitter designation is Beach Goose, by which, 
in the appropriate vernacular, the bird is known both to the Aleuts and 
to the natives of Norton Sound. 

Although many recent expeditions have brought back skins and eggs 
of this Bering Sea Beach Goose, our chief source of information regarding 
it is still the classical account of Nelson, published in 1887.2. According 
to this author, the birds begin to venture back to the Yukon Delta region 
from their winter quarters in the Aleutians late in May, while the river is 
still under ice, and only exposed mudflats are available. The early comers 
are wary, but extensive additions to their numbers soon quicken their 
confidence. 

“While passing from one feeding ground to another they commonly 
utter a deep, rather hoarse, and strident cl@’-ha, cla’-ha, cla’-ha, whichis very 
different from the note of any other goose with which I am familiar. At 
times, though rarely, a flock may be brought within gunshot by imitating 
this note. 

“Soon after their arrival they begin to pair, and are seen flying 
about in couples, keeping close to the ground, rarely flying over 20 or 30 
yards high, and often barely keeping clear of the surface. The males are 
extremely jealous and pugnacious, never allowing one of their kind to 
approach within a number of yards without making an onslaught on the 
intruder. The same belligerent spirit is shown to the other species of 
geese should one of them chance to draw too near. 

“While a pair is feeding the male keeps moving restlessly about, with 
eyes constantly on the alert, and at the first alarm they draw near together, 
and just before they take wing both utter a deep ringing #-ligh, a-ligh. 
As in the case of the call-note, this has a peculiar, deep hoarseness, 
impossible to describe. 

“The first of June they began depositing their eggs on the flat, marshy 
islands bordering the sea. At low tide the broad mud-flats on the shore 
were thronged with them, and after feeding until satisfied they congre- 
gated on bars until the incoming water forced them to disperse. They 
nested most abundantly on the salt marshes adjacent to these feeding 
7 ane: Bryant in Condor, Vol. XVI., 1914, p. 92. 


? Report upon Natural History Collections made in Alaska between the years 1877 and 1881, by Edward W. 
Nelson, Washington, 1887, pp. 89-91. 


The Emperor Goose 


grounds, and the eggs were often placed among fragments of drift-wood 
below the mark of the highest tides. Stray pairs were found nesting 
further inland on the marshy meadows, also frequented by the other 
species of geese, but on the salt flats, near tide water, the Emperor Geese 
held undisputed possession. 

“On June 5 a female was found sitting upon her eggs on a little knoll, 
with a small fragment of bleached drift-wood within a few yards of her, 
and as she lay with extended neck, although the ground was almost bare, 
my Eskimo and I passed within a few feet of her on either side, without 
seeing her. We were about 20 steps beyond when she left the nest witha 
startled cry, thus drawing our notice. The three eggs were in full view 
when we turned. They rested in a depression with no sign of lining. The 
same ruse caused us to pass other nests, but the birds betrayed them each 
time by flying off with a loud outcry almost as soon as our backs were 
presented.” 

An enlightened policy of governmental protection will probably 
succeed in preserving this unique species. Testimony appears to differ, 
however, as to whether there has been an actual decrease in numbers 
within the past two decades. If we may judge from the following account, 
which is Nelson’s, we may even believe that the advent of the white man 
has proved a blessing. 

“The young are hatched the last of June or first of July, and the adult 
birds undergo the summer moult from the last of July to the middle of 
August. During this season the Eskimo set long lines of nets across the 
marshes and make drives of water-fowl which have moulted their quill 
feathers. The slaughter is enormous; the wasteful savages render it still 
worse by killing thousands of young birds which are entrapped, saying 
that they will thus prevent their being in the way during the next drive. 
Tens of thousands of geese are annually killed in the drives from the 
Yukon mouth south to the Kuskoquim. In fall, as these geese regain their 
wings, they gather from along the sea-coast and seek their food from place 
to place until the approach of winter sends them a few hundred miles south 
to the Aleutian Islands. The natives south of the Yukon use the skins 
of the Emperor Goose for making clothing, as they also use the skins of 
other water-fowl.”’ 

Truth to tell, our interest in this bird is purely esthetic. Its flesh is 
conceded to be both coarse and rank, ‘‘worse than the Snow Goose,’’ which 
is surely ‘‘going some.’’ There is also, according to Turner, a disgust- 
ing odor about this bird, which even skinning and freezing will only 
partially subdue. 


1874 


The Black-bellied Tree Duck 


No. 378 


Black-bellied Tree Duck 


A. O. U. No. 177. Dendrocygna autumnalis (Linnzus). 

Description.—Adult: General body plumage rich reddish brown (auburn); 
head and neck buffy brown, save on crown, which is auburn, and hind-neck, deep 
chestnut; posterior half of body black, shading on lower tail-coverts to pure white of 
distal portions; lining and edge of wing brownish black, the flight-feathers pure black; 
the superior and proximal portions of wing-coverts variously ochraceous, shading into 
gray and grayish buffy of inferior and distal portions. Bill and feet (drying) light. 
Length 508-609.6 (20.00-24.00); wing about 241.3 (9.50); bill 50.8 (2.00); tarsus 2.45 
(62.2). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; somewhat like D. bicolor, but black belly and 
wing extensively whitish, distinctive. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California. Nest: A hollow in tree scantily 
lined with feathers and down. Eggs: 10-16; dull white or yellowish white. Av. size 
54.5 X 39 (2.15 x 1.53); index 71.1. Season: Late April—July; two broods. 

General Range.— Middle America from the valley of the Rio Grande in Texas 
to Panama. Casual in Arizona, California and Jamaica. 

Occurrence in California.—Casual; one record—from Imperial County. 

Authorities.—H. C. Bryant, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, p. 94 (Imperial Valley, 
one spec.); Phillips, Nat. Hist. of the Ducks, vol. i., 1922, p. 157, pl. 11 (monogr.). 


RANSACKING the markets used to be a favorite and by no means 
unfruitful pursuit on the part of the birdmen of San Francisco and 
Los Angeles. Now that the marketing of ducks and geese is no longer in 
vogue, we shall doubtless have to go further—and more healthily— 
afield for our “‘records.’’ The last prize to fall into the ornithological 
clutches before the sale of game was abolished was this Black-bellied 
Tree Duck, a handsome male, which was discovered and rescued by Mr. 
Vernon Shepherd, a San Francisco taxidermist, from a lot shipped up in 
the fall of 1912 from an Imperial Valley point. Mr. H. C. Bryant dis- 
covered the taxidermist and the mounted specimen, and so clinched the 
record. 

This duck was probably a fall wanderer, an adventurer from the 
South, who came unwittingly to spy out the land. If other such should 
find the land good—and were not shot at sunrise for their pains—we 
might expect a colonizing movement of Black-bellies to set in this direc- 
tion, much after the fashion of D. bicolor at some earlier date. But what 
are the real chances of so exceptional and so notable a bird running the 
gauntlet of gun-fire which begins at Calexico and ends at Crescent City, 720 
miles as the duck flies? It is precisely so that humanity has rewarded its 
own pioneers—the cross, the gibbet, or the stake—and of course eventual 


1875 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


canonization awaits those who break with established custom, or aspire to 
leadership. Behold it is written that all ‘‘valid”’ bird records shall be 
established in blood. First martyrdom and then the ‘‘crown”’ of official 
recognition. 

D. autumnalis does not, so far as known, nest upon the ground, 
choosing rather the hollow of some large tree. Of its further characteris- 
tics Dr. Brewer has said :! 

“This duck perches with facility on the branches of trees, and when 
in cornfields, upon the stalks, in order to reach the ears of corn. Large 
flocks spend the day on the bank of some secluded lagoon, densely bor- 
dered with woods or water-flags, also sitting among the branches of trees, 
not often feeding or stirring about during the day. When upon the wing 
this bird constantly utters its peculiar whistle of pe-che-che-ne, from which 
its native name is derived. Colonel Grayson noticed that it seldom 
alights in deep water, always preferring the shallow edges or the ground; 
the cause of this may be the fear of the numerous alligators that usually 
infest the lagoons.” 


No. 379 
Fulvous Tree Duck 


A. O. U. No. 178. Dendrocygna bicolor (Vieillot). 

Description.—Aduilts (sexes alike): General color yellowish brown, deepening 
on crown to Prout’s brown, lightening on chin and upper throat to cinnamon-buft; 
shading on breast through clay-color to sayal brown, or even russet on sides; wings, 
rump, and tail, chiefly black, the tawny element shading into black on back and scapu- 
lars by successive narrowing of tawny tips, thus presenting a scaled appearance; a 
black median line along the hind-neck and an indistinct zone of mingled dusky and 
buff in fine streaks around middle neck; lesser and middle wing-coverts chiefly rich 
chestnut, the flanks striped with buff bounded by dusky; the crissum and distal portion 
of upper tail-coverts light buff. Bill and feet grayish black. Immature birds are 
somewhat lighter below and have back less distinctly scaled by tawny. Length of 
adult male about 525 (20.67); wing 213.4 (8.40); bill 45.2 (1.78); tarsus 55.4 (2.18). 
Females average a little less. 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; tawny and black coloration; feet and legs 
relatively enormous, projecting far beyond end of tail in flight. No black on belly, 
as contrasted with D. autumnalis. Note a ‘‘squealing whistle.”’ 


Nesting.— Nest: A well built basket of wire-grass, sedges, or narrow-leafed 
cattails, on ground of marsh, or built up out of shallow water in shelter of reeds. No 
special lining, and presence of down accidental. Also occasionally nests in hollow trees 
(fide Emerson). Eggs: 12 to 16 (of one female); 28 to 32 of record (two or more females 
contributing); short ovate, dull white or yellowish white, with surface of a somewhat 
leathery consistency. Av. size 50.3-55.8 by 34.3-41.8 (1.98-2.20 by 1.35-1.65). Season: 
First week in June; also Apr. 28, May 5, 6, 13, and 14, 1900, F. S. Barnhart; one brood. 


1 Baird, Brewer and Ridgway, Water Birds of N. A., Vol. I. (1884), p. 483 


1876 


a 
‘ 
Pu 


‘- 


The Fulvous Tree Duck Aaah ; 

canonization awaits those who break with established custom, or aspire to — 
leadership. Behold it is written that all “‘valid’’ bird records shall be 
established in blood. First Beene and then the ‘‘crown” of official 
recognition. 

D. autumnalis does not, so far as known, nest upon the ground, 
choosing rather the hollow of some large tree. Of its further characteris- 
tics Dr, Brewer has said: 

“This duck perches with facility on the branches of trees, rat when — 
in cornfields, upon the stalks, in order to reach the ears of corn. Large 
flocks spend the day en the bank of some secluded lagoon,densely bor- 
dered with woods or water-flags. also sitting among the branches of trees, 
sot often feeding or stirring about during the day. When upon the wing 
this bind constantly utters its peculiar whistle of pe-che-che-ne, from which 
igs native name is derived. Colonel Grayson noticed that it seldom 
aligns in de ey water, abways pipienriag the shallow edges or the ground; 
the cause of this may be the fear of the numerous alligators that usually 
infest the lagoons.” 


No. 379 


Fulvous Tree Duck 


A, OU. Now178. Fitlvous' uck ° 

Description. A ee Sen ms Ke): é Du color yellowish brown, deepening 
on crown to Prout’s brown, |About, t % life size 4.) upper throat to cinnamon-buff; 
shading on breas¥From-@,awater-color, painting by: Major Allan Bresksusset on sides; wings, — 
rump, and tail, chiefly black, the tawny element shading into black on back and seapu- 
lars by successive narrowing of tawny tips, thus presenting a scaled appearance; a_ 
black median line along the hind-neck and an indistinct zone of mingled dusky and 
buff in fine streaks around middle néck; lesser and middle wing-coverts chiefly. rich 
clestant, the flanks striped with buff bounded by dusky; the crissum and distal portion 
ol agwer tait-ceverts light buff. Billi and feet grayish black. mature birds are 


. lighter below and have back less distinctly scaled by tawny. Length of 
e aseat 525 (20.67); wing 213.4 (8:40); bill 45.2.°(1.78)5 tarsus 55-4 (23 18). 


re & fiftbe less. 


Saye Marks, —Wrow size; tawny and black coloration; feet and legs 4 
ig t fa beyond end of tail in flight. No black on Belly: » 

: Note a “squealing whistle.” ; 

pool ‘is basket of wire-grass, sedges, or. prions?) 

* bullb ap out of shallow water in shelter Of.reeds. - ‘No. 


i dewn accidental: Also occasionally nests in hollow trees: ~ 


> in a6 iof one female); 28 to 32 of record (two or more females” 
‘ol whire or yellowish white, with surface of a somewhat 
dite s0 +5 55.8 8 by $4.304%.8 (1.98-2.20 ft 1.35-1. Dole! Season 


ee Feeat - eee Wrds of NA, Vol. fc C2884). p. 483 


aerah: 


how 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


General Range.—Discontinuous. Found in four widely separated regions: 
One,—southwestern United States and Mexico. Breeds very locally from central 
California and middle western Nevada, southern Mexico, and central Texas to Valley 
of Mexico and Michoacan; winters south to southern Mexico, or casually throughout 
its range; has wandered north to coast of Washington and British Columbia. Two,— 
South America, Chile, Argentina, southern Brazil, and Paraguay. Three,—Africa, 
from Kordofan and the valley of the Nile south to Nyasaland, Lake Ngami, and Mada- 
gascar. Four,—India south of the Himalayas, Burma, and Ceylon. 

Distribution in California.—Common summer resident and breeder in the 
flooded areas surrounding Los Banos, Merced County; also breeds sparingly in tule 
marshes of Los Angeles County. Appears upon the seacoast during migrations (regu- 
larly at Santa Barbara, both in early May and late August), and has been noted as a 
wanderer at various interior points, notably, Marin County (Mailliard), Marysville 
(Belding), Owens Valley (A. K. Fisher). A few said to linger in winter, especially 
in the San Joaquin Valley. 

Authorities.—Baird (Dendrocygna fulva), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 1858, 
p- 770 (Ft. Tejon); Barnhart, Condor, vol. ili., 1901, p. 67 (Los Banos; changes in nesting 
habits); Dickey and van Rossem, Condor, vol. xxv., 1923, p. 39, figs. (Buena Vista Lake; 
desc. and photos of nest and eggs; habits, etc.); Wetmore and Peters, Proc. Biol. Soc. 
Wash., vol. xxxv., 1922, p. 42 (Dendrocygna bicolor helva, new subspecies; type locality, 
Unlucky Lake, San Diego Co.); Phillips, Natural History of the Ducks, vol. i., 1922. 
p. 128, pl. 12 (monogr.). 


DENDROCYGNA BICOLOR! The sons of Adam are still wrest- 
ling with their distinguished ancestor’s unfulfilled task of naming the 
birds. Some of them are doing very badly at it, too, as witness Swainson’s 
designation of this group of birds as ‘‘Tree Swans’’ (dévdeov, a tree, and 
cygnus, a swan). Buicolor, too, recently foisted upon us by the “‘law of 
priority” in place of the highly appropriate fulva, is misleading and pain- 
ful. The Two-colored Tree-Swan! 

But if we are disposed to be critical, we may quarrel with the trivial 
name also. The bird is scarcely a duck, for it has long legs and a fashion 
of hanging its head in flight, which reminds us strikingly of a near-sighted 
goose. Moreover, only a very few of our fellow Californians will confess to 
having ever seen this bird up a tree. The bird with us is preéminently a 
marsh bird. We are at fault again. One of our Old World friends has 
done better in calling the bird a Whistling Duck; while a writer, an Indian 
ornithologist, has ventured the “Larger Whistling Teal.’’ Behold, then, 
dear reader, this Larger Whistling Two-colored Swantealgooseduck of the 
marshes, and beholding, tremble! 

Dendrocygna is an exotic, the something different, of the sportsman’s 
world. Moreover, he is a great traveler. Starting originally, no doubt, 
somewhere in the East Indies, which are still the center of distribution for 
the genus, fulva (or bicolor) has now achieved the notoriety of four separate 
distribution centers, or permanent homes; viz., India, central Africa, 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


southern South America, and Mexico (with our own Southwestern States). 
The occupation of California by this species is very probably a compara- 
tively recent matter. The first birds were noted in the Los Bafios coun- 
try, which has now become the recognized center of abundance in Califor- 
nia, as late as 1895. ‘‘Accidental’’ occurrences have been noted from 
Washington (Gray’s Harbor), and Vancouver Island, which goes to indi- 
cate that D. bicolor is still looking for worlds to conquer. 

Be that as it may, the Fulvous Swamp Goose has made herself thor- 
oughly at home in the flooded lands tributary to the Mendota project, 
where her egg-laying proclivities have become the nine days’ wonder of the 
odlogist. The story is told,! on the authority of Mr. H. Wanzer, chief 
engineer for Miller and Lux, that the Fulvous Tree Duck, which “‘was first 
brought to his notice’? near Los Bafios in June, 1895, and which had be- 
come common by the season of 1898, was at the outset accustomed to 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
FULVOUS TREE DUCKS AT SANDYLAND 


“colonize’’ or pool its nesting interests. The number of eggs found in 
caches, or casual hollows among the reeds, or on grassy islands, varied, 
according to report, from thirty toa hundred. In particular, Mr. Wanzer 
found such a cache on the 15th of June, 1896, in Camp 13 swamp, which 


1 By F. S. Barnhart, The Condor, Vol. III., May, 1901, p. 67. 


TS78 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
FULVOUS TREE DUCKS IN FLIGHT 


contained 62 eggs. ‘‘The eggs were placed on a pile of dead grass which 
had drifted together about four inches above the water, and looked as if 
someone had emptied them carefully out of a basket, there being no 
attempt at nest building or concealment.” 

These statements raise a question not of veracity, which is unques- 
tioned—but of emergency economy, of adjustment to new and untried 
conditions. Similar caches, or dump heaps, but of lesser proportions, are 
found today in these marshes—in addition to the sober and individual 
nests which contain from 12 to 16 eggs of the rightful owner. A nest 
which I found on the 30th of May, 1914, contained eight eggs. On the 
ist day of June it held fourteen eggs, and on the 2nd, seventeen; but on 
the 4th, when it was due to have 23 eggs if three birds were contributing, 
it held nineteen instead, and was taken. In this case there was either (1) 
communal nesting of three pairs; or (2) a polygamous family with three 
wives; or, lastly, and most probably, two females, whose nests had just 
been destroyed by predatory mammals, found temporary asylum with a 
more fortunately placed sister. It is noteworthy in this instance that the 
owner or owners of these eggs assumed responsibility for the increased 
product. While at the 14-egg stage, the eggs had been disposed carelessly 
in two layers with three or four eggs on top; on the day following, the 
seventeen eggs were all in one layer, the nest in the meantime having 
been considerably built up and improved. On the 4th of June, however, 
at the 19-egg stage, the two extras lay on top and the nest had been appar- 
ently deserted, whether by reason of unwelcome additions or of unwelcome 
attentions could not be determined. I have been thus explicit because 
these cache nests of the Fulvous Tree Duck are the mystery of the swamps, 
and exact observations are few or wanting. 


1879 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


The Tree Ducks, known locally as “‘squealers,’’ have a light high 
cackling or whistling note, chi peéw, which one might sooner expect of a 
plover, or even a flycatcher. This note is uttered freely upon arising, 
but is rarely used, I believe, save in flight or under stress of alarm. 

While the birds are essentially fresh-water birds, they are by no means 
unknown at the seashore during migrations. The group of nine birds shown 
on page 1878 was photographed on the sea-beach near Carpinteria. Having 
just arrived from the south, on the 2nd of May, 1912, they first stood at 


< 


Sy a (ae 1h 
Ly 
\! 


As 5 


ff Sad 
Taken near Los Banos 5 Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF FULVOUS TREE DUCK, UNDISTURBED 


attention, dutifully silent, like well-trained soldiers; then seeing only a 
harmless admirer, they tucked heads under wings and fell asleep forth- 
with. They made a handsome appearance under a full sun, like statuettes 
of burnished bronze set in a row, while their slender legs, of steel rather 
than bronze, supported the aloofness of their distinguished beauty. Ina 
setting of green marsh grass they are no less distinguished; but the out- 
burst of treble cackling which marks their flight produces a ludicrous 
effect, like a chorus of fat tenors. 

Although there is a suspicion registered above that Tree Duck morals 


ISSO 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


The Tree Pucks, known locally as “‘squealers,”’ have a light high 
cackling or whistling note, chi peéw, which one might sooner expect of a 7 
plover, oe even a flycatcher. This note is uttered freely upon arising, 
bei? 8 eqrely used, | believe, save in flight or under stress of alarm. 
Wiis the birds are essentially fresh-water birds, they are by no means 
wee at the seashore during migrations. The group of nine birds shown 
jeue> 178 was photographed on the sea-beach near Carpinteria. Having 
foe axrived from the south, on the and of May, 1912, they first stood at 


PE Usa 


Fi . 
k 8 ¥ Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF FULVOGS TREE DUCK, UNDISTURBED i 
— iS 
attention, dutifully silent, like w&l-trained soldiers; then seeing only a ee 


harmless admirer, they tucked hdds under wings and fell asleep forth- 
i They made a handsome appearance under a full sun, like statuettes 
al bumished buanze set in a row, while their slender legs, of steel rather 
than bronee, supported the aloofness of their distinguished beauty. In a 
setting of green marsh grass they are no less distinguished; but the out- 
burst of treble cackling which marks their flight produces a ludicrous 
effect, like a chorus of fat tenors. 
Although there is a suspicion registered above that Tree Duck morals 


1880 


» 


TASS NEE SR IW BS EE NN i 


. : S Ey 
4 fo a t 4 - e 


end 


v 


me 


The Fulvous Tree Duck 


are not above reproach, there are enough indubitably wedded pairs to 
keep up the traditions of home. Nests are built either in the heavy grass 
of damp meadows or in the area of dwarf sedge which borders the marshes, 
or in the depths of the cat-tails themselves. If the ground is dry, a mere 
depression suffices; but if not, the bird is capable of weaving a sturdy 
basket, whether of wire-grass or of cat-tails, and this will lift the eggs clear 
of the water bya foot or more. The bird does not strip herself of down, as do 
her lavish sisters, but she takes pains to break down the surrounding grass 
or reeds, so that her eggs will be sheltered from the searching gaze, and 


Taken near Los Banos Photo by the Author 
n/t9 FULVOUS TREE DUCK 


THE NEST IS THE ONE PREVIOUSLY SHOWN 


she from the sun. A little runway of broken reeds or trodden-down 
grasses leads from this retreat; and as the bird flushes at 25 or 30 feet, the 
finding of the nest is not always an easy matter. The bird, moreover, is 


ISST 


The Whistling Swan 


capable of a stoical fortitude in remaining away from her nest while it is 
under inspection; and too much ‘‘monkeying”’ will entail desertion. 

The eggs of the Fulvous Tree Duck are quite unlike those of any other 
American species (save, of course, D. autumnalis). They are of a dingy 
yellowish white color with a dull leathery, but not an oily, surface, a little 
rounder than ordinary ducks’ eggs, and decidedly small for the size of the 
bird. Because they are so unmistakable, we are able to trace the found- 
lings in many another duck’s nest besides those of her own species. Thus, 
Ruddies and Red-heads are especially apt to be imposed upon by these 
easy-going Orientals. 

Whether, indeed, the Fulvous Tree Duck nests otherwise than upon 
the ground (or in the water) in California, we do not know. Mr. Emer- 
son’s note,! often quoted, throws a little light upon the subject, but its 
inference has never been confirmed: ‘‘On May 23, 1882, while collecting 
with Wm. C. Flint at Lillie’s ranch near Tulare Lake, I noticed a Fulvous 
Tree Duck sitting in the entrance hole of a large white oak near one of the 
ditches, but it was out of the question to reach it. Again, on May 26, 
another was located sitting on the edge of a hole high up in a white oak.” 
D. javanica, a closely related species found in India, is known to nest not 
only in hollow trees and on the ground, but also in old nests of herons, 
crows or kites. D.arcuata and D. eytoni of Australia nest only upon the 
ground and often at considerable distances from the water. 

Whatever their parentage, the little Whistling Two-colored Tealduck- 
swangooses manage to get their growth and escape to the Southland 
before the fall shooting starts in. As a consequence of its comparative 
immunity from gun-fire, the species may be slowly gaining in numbers. 
But Los Banos, at least, is infested by coons, weasels, minks, skunks, 
coyotes and, worst of all, wild hogs. 


No. 380 


Whistling Swan 


A. O. U. No. 180. Olor columbianus (Ord). 

Description.—Adult: Entire plumage pure white, the head sometimes tinged 
with rusty; bill and lores black, the latter usually with a distinct yellow spot near eye; 
feet and legs black. Immature: Plumage ashy gray, the head and neck tinged with 
brownish; bill and feet light. Length about 1371.6 (54.00); extent seven feet; wing 
539.8 (21.25); tail 215.9 (8.50); bill ror.6 (4.00); tarsus 99.1 (3.90); middle toe and 
claw 137.2 (5.40). 


1See Condor, Vol. I., p. 11, in article by A. M. Shields. 


TSS2 


The Whistling Swan 


Recognition Marks.—Brant size; pure white plumage; long neck; small yellow 
spot on lores distinctive for this species. 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: Near water, on the ground 
or upon loose heap of sticks and trash, lined with mosses, grass, and down. Eggs: 
2-7; sordid white. Av. size 107.2 x 68.6 (4.22 x 2.70). Season: April-June; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds in northern Alaska from the Alaska 
Peninsula and from northern Mackenzie and northern Keewatin north over the Arctic 
islands to about Latitude 74°. Winters on the Pacific Coast from British Columbia 
to southern California; on the Atlantic Coast from Delaware to South Carolina, rarely 
from Massachusetts to Florida; and in the interior from Lake Erie and southern 
Illinois to Louisiana and Texas; casual in northern Mexico and Bermuda. Accidental 
in Great Britain. 


Distribution in California.—Formerly abundant; now rare winter resident in 
suitable localities, chiefly lakes and reservoirs, south to San Diego County (Sweetwater 
Reservoir, Stephens). A notable increase recorded in the season of 1919-20, but not 
sustained in the succeeding season. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Cygnus americanus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
2, 1., 1849, p. 225 (Calif.); Torrey, Field-days in Calif., 1913, p. 80 (Santa Barbara, 
winter; habits, etc.); Wdllett, Condor, vol. xxi., 1919, p. 126 (Warner Springs, San 
Diego Co., winter). 


FOR PRACTICAL purposes the American occupation of California 
dates back to “‘Forty-nine.’”’ The Argonauts not only “put California on 
the map,” but their arrival brought about profound changes in the com- 
plexion of animal life. The Indian with his snares of thong and his arrows 
tipped with obsidian had only been a part of the order of nature. His 
depredations, so far as the birds were concerned, were not to be compared 
with those of foxes or weasels or falcons. To be sure, the native sampled a 
Swan now and then for food; but it never occurred to him, a simple- 
hearted child of nature, that it would be sport to kill these noble birds 
just for the fun of killing. That remained for the White Man, the crown 
and exponent of civilization, the hot and heedless heir of the ages. With 
the same ruthless heel that has trodden down the Red Man, the noblest, 
the most beautiful, the most exalted examples of the creative handiwork, 
fit objects of enlightened human interest, have been crushed to earth and 
almost or quite exterminated. 

The case of the Wild Swan is one of the saddest in American annals. 
Majestic as well as graceful, of noble proportions as well as harmless con- 
duct, world-wide symbol of purity and charm, the stately beauty of the 
Swan was altogether such as to excite admiration and to deserve chival- 
rous treatment. But what do we see instead? Extravagant praises of the 
quality of Swan’s flesh! instructions for hanging or garnishing or flavoring 
with herbs; or worse than that, records of slaughter—slaughter gigantic, 
wanton, insatiable, and now alas! irremediable. We all know the out- 


1383 


The Whistling Swan 


come: The appearance of a Swan in the wild state is now a nine days’ 
wonder, something to cause a ripple of excitement through the country- 
side, and something to be reported forthwith to ‘““The Auk” or “The 
Condor.” 

We are, we Anglo-Saxons, and especially we Anglo-hispano-italo- 
nippono Californians, an easy-going, law-despising and indolently selfish 
bunch. We have had game laws for a generation, and those now written 
on the statute book are as beautiful as ink can make them. We have even 
succeeded in shutting up several stable doors after the horses have been 
stolen; but our machinery for law enforcement is a jest. As in the days of 
Samson, everybody does that which is right in his own eyes, and above all 
—oh, above everything—we do not interfere with anything which our 
neighbor may see fit to do. Is he slaughtering birds in plain violation of 
the statutes? He is justly incensed if you remind him of the fact; and as 
for causing his arrest, who would venture to do anything so impolite! 

Take, for example, the case of the Wild Swan. The law says explicitly 
that the bird shall not under any circumstances be killed. And yet we read 
in a recent work, ‘““The Game Birds of California,” as follows: “ ‘Swans 
were common winter visitors on Humboldt Bay up to three years ago when 
a flock of about forty birds lingered here until all but about six or eight 
were shot by market hunters. I saw eighteen of these birds in the hands 
of a local taxidermist, all of which were shot within a period of less than 
two weeks. He had bought them cheaply, expecting to mount them, and 
sell them at a fancy price, but they were poorly mounted and most of them 
went to ruin right in his shop’ (C. I. Clay, in letter of March 16, 1912). 
It is to be observed that all of these birds were killed illegally.” 

There you have it! These noble birds were slaughtered under cir- 
cumstances glaringly apparent to a community of ten thousand people 
and yet nothing was done about it. Indeed, if we mistake not, the man who 
bought up this treasure trove still carries a license to collect “‘for scientific 
purposes.”’ But Eureka is no worse in this respect than forty other com- 
munities. As director of amuseum the writer has been repeatedly solicited 
to purchase contraband material, a wounded eagle or the like, and he is 
rated ‘‘queer’’ because of the irresistible outbursts of indignation which 
ensue. Pardon this weakness, dear Californians. It’s—it’s congenital! 

During migrations the Swans move in small flocks, forming a ‘“‘flying 
wedge,” or V-shaped figure, with some trusted patriarch in the lead. Their 
flight is exceedingly swift, being estimated by competent observers at one 
hundred miles per hour—probably twice that of the geese. For all they 
are so powerful on the wing, they rise from the water rather reluctantly, 
and prefer, if there is room enough, to distance pursuit by swimming. 
Because the neck of the Swan is so long and hung at the water-line, the 


TS84Y 


The Whistling Swan 


bird can explore the bottom freely in shallow waters in its search for roots 
and mollusks, without making any ungainly motions with the body. 
Indeed, there is a peculiar disconnectedness between the operations of the 
Swan proper and its far-reaching head,—as though here were a white boat 
serenely floating at anchor, from the bow of which now and then a diver is 
sent down to grapple for hidden treasure. All the bird’s motions above 
water are graceful enough, except in case of anxious inquiry, when the 
neck is stretched to its utmost, perpendicularly, as it pauses in dread 
expectancy; and the bird looks like a white eighth-note of the musical 
scale, set upon a staff of widening ripples. Ashore, its gait is a rather 
ungainly waddle, the foot being folded and lifted “‘unco high”’ at every step. 

The Whistling Swan is a noisy bird at best. A flock of them exhibit 
great individual variations of notes, and they can create a chorus which is 
mildly worse than that of a political jollification meeting. The bass horns, 
of tin rather than brass, are blown by the old fellows, while the varied notes 
which seem to come from clarionets are really due to cygnets. The birds 
set up a great outcry when they have done or are about to do anything 
important, as when preparing for the flight northward, or when welcoming 
a company of their fellows to the feeding grounds. 

The Whistling Swan is not known to breed south of Alaska and all 
records of the nesting of “‘wild swans” within the limits of the United 
States are now believed to refer to Olor buccinator. The nest is always 
made near water, and consists of a large accumulation of grass, leaves, 
tule stems, and trash, with a plentiful lining of down from the bird’s 
breast. From two to seven large yellowish white eggs are laid late in May, 
and the female is obliged to cover them for a matter of forty days. Both 
parents are exceedingly zealous in defense of their young, and a sitting 
Swan will sooner fly at an intruder in a passion than away from him in 
fear. A stroke of a Swan’s wing has been known to break a poacher’s leg. 
Would that the bird’s indignation had similar power at longer range! 

No fitter emblem of purity and grace will ever be found than this 
matchless daughter of the wilderness, the American Swan. If we are 
impelled to admire the stately beauty of the domestic bird, as it moves 
about upon some narrow duck pond of our own contriving, how much 
more shall we yield tribute of admiration to this native princess, spotless 
and untamed! Whether seen as a garniture of some inland mere, or 
descried aloft as a bank of winged snow, no vision of nature will ever thrill 
us with a deeper romance than does the wild swan. And if we forfeit that 
vision to greed or blood-lust, no pachycephalic crime will be greater and 
no regret of future generations more poignant. 


TS85 


The Trumpeter Swan 
No. 381 


Trumpeter Swan 


A. O. U. No. 181. Olor buccinator (Richardson). 

Description.—Similar to preceding species, but larger; bill and lores entirely 
black. Length 1524-1676.4 (60.00-66.00); extent about 8 feet; wing 609.6 (24.00); 
tail 228.6 (9.00); bill 114.3 (4.50); tarsus 111.8 (4.40); middle toe and claw 152.4 (6.00). 

Recognition Marks.—As in preceding species. Distinguished from it by 
absence of yellow on lore, and by nostril in basal half of bill. 

Nesting.—Like that of preceding species, but eggs a little larger. Av. size 
111.76 x 66 (4.40 x 2.60). 

General Range.—Interior and western North America. Formerly bred from 
Indiana, Missouri, Nebraska, and Montana, north to the Arctic Coast, but not recently 
reported as a breeder below Latitude 61. Has wintered from British Columbia south 
to southern California, and from southern Indiana to Texas. Now verging upon 
extinction, and limits not definable. 

Occurrence in California.—Formerly of regular occurrence south through the 
central valleys and in the San Diegan district. No authentic record since 1898 (Grin- 
nell) and evidently near extinction. 

Authorities.—Newberry (Cygnus buccinator), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 100 (Calif.); Coale, Auk, vol. xxxii., 1915, p. 82, pls. (present status; specimens 
extant; etc.); Fleming, Condor, vol. xxi., 1919, p. 124 (crit.; desc. of a Calif.-taken 
spec., identity uncertain). 


EXTERMINATED by gun-fire! This at least seems to be the con- 
sensus of present opinion.! 

Such being the case, the task of describing the habits, range, etc., of 
the Trumpeter Swan is a work of supererogation, analogous to that of 
collecting the traditions regarding the Labrador Duck, the Dodo, etc. 
But because the crime, albeit recent, was accomplished before the days of 
complete moral self-consciousness, we will endeavor to assemble such 
pitiful scraps of information as we possess regarding the deceased. 

The Trumpeter Swan, long confused with its ally, O. columbianus, was 
first described as a distinct species in 1831.2 Its chief claim to distinction 
lay in the extraordinary development of voice which characterized the male 
bird, and which had necessitated the provision of a special apparatus. 
Those who abhor the idea of directive evolution, that is, the working of the 
“elan vital” toward preconceived ends, must explain how either accidental 


\Henry K. Coale in The Auk (Vol. XXXII., Jan., 1915, pp. 82-90) says: ‘‘At the meeting of the American 
Ornithologists Union held in New York City, in the fall of 1913, a number of the members were discussing the rarity 
of the Trumpeter Swan, the general opinion being that this magnificent bird was nearing extinction, and would soon 
disappear forever."’ 

The Game Birds of California by Grinnell, Bryant and Storer (1918), p. 254: ‘‘It [the Trumpeter Swan] 
claims additional interest in that it must be numbered with those birds which have been exterminated within the 
lifetime of most of the citizens of the State.” 

2By William Swainson and John Richardson in Fauna Boreali Americana. 


TSSO 


The Trumpeter Swan 


increments of variation or increments of advantage through use enabled 
this bird’s trachea to provide for itself a bony tunnel throughout the entire 
length of the sternum, or breast-bone, to the sole end that its length (and 
consequent lower register of the sound emitted) might be increased. Not 
content with this ingenious utilization of extra space, ‘‘Nature’’ had begun 
to develop a capacious hump on the inside of this bird’s breast-bone (I 
have always contended that the Almighty has a sense of humor!), a bony 
archway which protected, so far, the dawning intentions of this enterpris- 
ing trachea to provide itself with an additional convolution—at the 
expense of lungs or gizzard or whatever other organ might stand in the 
way of musical progress. The result achieved when this promising career 
was stopped was already noteworthy. The Trumpeter blew an authentic 
trombone so stertorous that at least one observer! wished the performer 
dead. The Whistling Swan’s note, while by no means a whistle, was 
higher-pitched and much lighter, a toy trumpet by comparison. 

This decided difference in voice, if we omit an average increase in size 
observable in buccinator, was the only field distinction; that is, the only 
one observable at reasonably long range. As a consequence, there was 
such endless confusion of the two species in the popular mind that we 
cannot even now unravel the records, nor write a separate life history of 
buccinator further than to define its range. 

We know now that buccinator was the bird of the great interior, rang- 
ing between Hudson Bay and the Rocky Mountains, and breeding chiefly, 
but by no means exclusively, north of the Sixtieth Parallel. It was slaugh- 
tered in immense numbers by the minions of the Hudson Bay Company, 
and the slaughter ceased only when it had ceased to be productive. South 
of the 49th Parallel, the breeding of this bird was more or less desultory; 
but since we have records from Indiana, Iowa, Minnesota, Montana, 
Idaho, and probably Washington,? there is fair reason to suppose that it 
also bred within the limits of California. Goose Lake or the lakes of 
Surprise Valley (now evaporated) present every analogy to conditions a 
thousand miles north. The ornithologist thrills to think what might have 
been witnessed in the way of bird life in Modoc County, say a hundred 
years ago! Ducks of fourteen species, Canada Geese, Sandhill Cranes, 
herons of six species, gulls and terns of five species, cormorants, White 
Pelicans, four grebes, and shore-birds of nine species,—these were pleasant 
certainties of that elder day, with such a rarity as the Trumpeter Swan by 
no means impossible. 

Regarding the occurrence of this bird in California, only the most 
imperfect data are at hand. There is, apparently, no California-taken 


"Hearne: Auct. Coale, Auk, 1915, D. 
n 2The ‘‘near records’ given by ‘‘The Binis of Washington”’ (1909), p. 840, should undoubtedly be ascribed to 
this species instead of O. columbianus. 
1387 


The Great Blue Herons 


specimen in existence. Yet in the face of the emphatic testimony to the 
former abundance of the bird farther north, as upon the Columbia River, 
we hardly care to question the fact of its earlier presence in California. 
At that I am very distrustful of the earlier records. The ‘‘fathers’’ were 
apt to make blanket claims upon everything known to exist. Moreover, 
some of them suffered from eastern editors, as witness the inclusion of five 
species of Leucosticte in ‘““The Ornithology of California,” edited by 
S. F. Baird, from the manuscript and notes of J. S. Cooper. No; the 
fathers weren't overlooking anything. We ourselves find only one species. 


No. 382 


Great Blue Heron 


No. 382a California Great Blue Heron 
A. O. U. No. 194. Ardea herodias hyperonca Oberholser. 
Synonyms.—‘‘BLUE CRANE.”’ KELP HERON. 


Description.— Adult: Crown, sides of head, throat, and middle of chest, 
narrowly, white; occiput and top of head on sides glossy black, the feathers elongated 
into an occipital crest; neck pale purplish brown, a mesial stripe in front black, white, 
and ochraceous; feathers of side of neck in front much lengthened, whitish and purplish 
brown; sides of breast, and belly, broadly streaked with black and white in about equal 
proportions; edge of wing, including the bend, and thighs, cinnamon-rufous; lower 
tail-coverts white; above nearly uniform slaty blue; the scapulars lanceolate, sometimes 
varied with bluish white; black shoulder tufts of plumulaceous feathers arching over 
bend of folded wing, and continuous with black on sides of the breast; wing-quills, 
lining of the wings, and sides bright plumbeous; lores blue. Upper mandible yellowish- 
olive, blackening on ridge; lower mandible yellow; feet and legs black. The occipital 
crest of the male contains two much elongated, filamentous, deciduous feathers during 
the breeding season. IJmmature: Similar, but top of head entirely black; without 
specially colored or lengthened feathers on neck, sides of breast, or scapulars; upperparts 
inclined to fuscous; underparts with slaty and ochraceous in addition to black and white; 
feathers on bend of wing and thighs lighter, or vinaceous-rufous. Young in first plum- 
age: Brownish-fuscous above, streaked and spotted with buffy and whitish, narrowly 
on head and neck; below white, streaked with fuscous and buffy. Juvenile plumages 
vary interminably within these general limits, but the bird is unmistakable. Length 
about 1270 (50.00); extent about 1905 (75.00). Male: wing 497 (19.57); tail 186.5 
(7.35); bill 144.6 (5.70); depth at base 29.5 (1.16); tarsus 188.3 (7.415). Female: 
wing 473 (18.62); bill 137.7 (5.42); depth 26.5 (1.04); tarsus 170.3 (6.705) (after Ober- 
holser). 

Recognition Marks.—FEagle size; great size and elongated proportions, with 
bluish cast of plumage, unmistakable. 

Nesting.—A bulky platform of sticks placed high in trees or, less commonly, 
on ground in marsh. Eggs: 3 or 4, rarely 5; elliptical or ovate elliptical; light bluish 
green (glaucous green to deep lichen green), unmarked. Av. size 65.3 x 45 (2.57 X 1.77); 
index 68.9. Season: April; one brood. 


1558 


Tie 


e 


Yhe Great Blue Herons 


“weiner @ existence. Yet inthe face of the emphatic testimony to the 
farmer alewulance of the bird farther north, as upon the Columbia River, 
we arilty care to question the fact of its earlier presence in California. 
Ay sha: | am very distrustful of the earlier records. The “fathers’’ were 

eat *o msghe blanket claims upon everything known to exist. Moreover, 
tent: <& “fem suffered from eastern editors, as witness the inclusion of five 
: wicex of Leucosticte in “The Ornithology of California,” edited by” © 
= & FE eed, from the Onsager: 4 wad nates of J. S. Cooper. No; the o> 
witers sae y overlooking enythiusg, We ourselves find only one species. 


Ne. 382 


:  &reat Blue Heron 


Ra. dda Caiifaeeca (greet Bloe Heron 
* th 4 “a ig. Ata berodias hyperonca Oberholser. yi 
MATE AAWNE.” | Kevp Heron, ‘ 
ite, Crown, sides of head, throat, and middle of chest, 
ate? cn Great Blue Heron-. ee the feathers elongated 


Dae are h br t black, white, 
i ght hotog araph, co isa DR, Dickey and purplish 


cat 


Ws] Taken in N eo Brunseoick h aie and white in about equal 


pay Mey Sige ot eg, Pachuding the bend, and thighs, cinnamon-rufous; lower — 
tales owitite: abe ve Aeariy uniform slaty blue; the scapulars lanceolate, sometimes 
wart i wit: Stack shoulder tufts of plumulaceous feathers arching over 


ves wing. and continuous with black on sides of the breast; wing-quills, 

Pattie vid igs seati sidles bright plumbeous; lores blue. Upper mandible yellowish- 

f jee ists  chdges fower mandible yellow; feet and legs black. The occipital 
el r ‘igme Pao much elongated, filamentous, deciduous feathers during 
3S ee ose. Jmemetate: Similar, but top of head entirely black; without 


«aed feathers on neck, sides of breast, or scapulars; upperparts 
twrheris with slaty and ochraceous in addition to black and white; 
get *highs lighter, or-vinaceous-rufous. | Youag in first plum- 
ttee, streaked and spotted with buffy and whitish, narrowly 
white, streaked with fuscous and bufly. Juvenile plumages ~— 
“ seperal limits, but the bird is unmistakable. Length 
£905 — veh Male: wing 497 (19.57); tail 186.5 
5 (4.16); tarsus 188.3 (7.415). Female: 
2 14.32); depth 26.5 (1.04); tarsus 170:3 (6.705) ae Ober- 1) 


Sjayie size: great size and elongated proportions, with 
Sipkaite 


piatiupgh oF ssicke placed hizh in trees or, less ree 

= or q. tecely 5; elliptical or ovate elliptical; light blaish 
lic deep Reber greent, wamuarked, Av. 5ize:65.3 x 45 (2.57 X 1-977) 

a. - pei: ane terount: is 


The Great Blue Herons 


Range of Ardea herodias.— North America and northern South America, breeding 
north to southeastern Alaska, Saskatchewan, and Hudson Bay, south to Florida, 
northern Texas, and Lower California; wintering south over Mexico and the West 
Indies to Venezuela and Colombia. 

Range of A. h. hyperonca.—Resident from Transition zone to sea-level on the 
Pacific Coast slope from western Oregon south to San Diego, California. 

Distribution in California——Common resident throughout the State west of 
the desert divide and east of the Sierras, at least north of Plumas County. Found 
upon the Santa Barbara Islands and even (accidental?) upon the Farallons. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Ardea herodias), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 222 (Calif.); Miller, Condor, vol. xii., 1910, p. 13 (fossil); Oberholser, Proc. 
U.S. Nat. Mus., vol. 43, 1912, p. 550 (syst.; Ardea herodias hyperonca, new subspecies; 
type locality, Baird, Calif.); Cooke, U.S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 45, 1913, 
p. 37, map (distr.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 21 (San Joaquin Valley, 
breeding habits, etc.); Wetmore, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 112 (speed of flight); 
Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 43 (s. Calif. ids.; crit., meas., etc.). 


No. 382b Pallid Great Blue Heron 

A. O. U. No. 194, part. Ardea herodias treganzai Court. 

Synonyms.—WESTERN GREAT BLUE HERON. DESERT GREAT BLUE HERON. 
GREAT Basin HERON. TREGANZA HERON. 

Description.—Adult: Similar to Ardea herodias hyperonca, but upperparts and 
neck paler; in size decidedly less. Male: wing 471.7 (18.57); tail 179.9 (7.08); bill 
144.3 (5.68); depth at base 28 (1.10); tarsus 170.5 (6.71). Female: wing 455.5 (17.93); 
tail 174.2 (6.86); bill 137.2 (5.40); depth at base 26.1 (1.03); tarsus 170.5 (6.71). 

Nesting.— Much as in preceding form. 

Range of A. h. treganzat—Western United States from the eastern base of the 
Cascade-Sierra Mountain system east to the eastern bases of the Rocky Mountains, 
and central western Texas south to southwestern Mexico. Winters from Texas and 
Arizona south to Colima. 

Distribution in California.—Common resident in suitable localities east of 
the desert divide; notably in the Salton Sink and the valley of the Colorado River, 
north, probably to Mono Lake, and possibly in the extreme east to Surprise Valley. 

Authorities.—Coues (Ardea herodias), Ibis, 1866, p. 263 (Colorado River); 
Oberholser, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. 43, 1912, p. 545 (syst.; monogr.); Grinnell, 
Condor, vol. x., 1908, p. 190, fig. (Salton Sea, breeding); zbzd., Univ. Calif. Pub. Zool., 
vol. xii., 1914, p. 116 (Colo. Vailey; nesting habits; syst.; meas.; etc.); Wetmore, Condor, 
vol. xxii., 1920, p. 168, figs. (function of powder downs). 


AS A PICTURESQUE feature of the landscape or, oftener, the water- 
scape, the Heron has no rival. Whether standing motionless upon the 
flats, with bills elevated, or depressed, according as men or fish are the 
objects of current moment, or whether flapping slowly across the scene, 
they lend just that touch of sedate life which the artistic eye requires. 
The Japanese have nowhere shown clearer credentials of authority in 


7TSSO 


The Great Blue Herons 


art than in their handling of the heron motif in decorative work. When 
the birds descend, it is as though heaven had responded to the mute incense 
of Fujiyama and gave gifts to men. When the birds fly, it is because the 
folly of men has provoked the gods, and Jimmu Tenno frowns from the 
clouds. And when the birds stand placid by a placid pool, what more 
fitting symbol of the ancient Nippon, where tomorrow was like yesterday. 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
A STARTLED FISHERMAN 


7590 


The Great Blue Heron is, with us, the 
largest of its kind; and while.not exactly 
graceful on the one hand, nor majestic on 
the other, it presents that peculiar combina- 
tion of the two which we are pleased to call 
picturesque. While standing knee-deep in 
the water of some pond or stream, awaiting 
its customary prey of minnows or frogs, it 
may remain for an hour as motionless as a 
bronze statue; then with a movement like 
lightning the head is drawn back and sud- 
denly shot downward, and a wriggling fish 
is transfixed on the spear-like beak. <A 
deft toss of the head puts the fish up and 
transfers it to the inside, and the bird moves 
with quiet, measured step to another sta- 
tion, or else rises heavily, with slow flaps, 
into the air. In full flight, the Heron 
stretches its legs to the fullest extent be- 
hind; and the neck, especially when the bird 
is sailing, is carried like the letter S or Z, 
so that the lower part is brought parallel 
to the long bill, and the bird looks like a 
strato-cumulus cloud floating in space. 

Besides frequenting tide-flats, lakes, 
swamps, and all inland waterways, the 
Great Blue Heron in California assumes 
two special roles, which invariably serve to 
impress the newcomer. The first is dry- 
land ‘‘fishing”’ and the second is kelp fishing. 
As the season advances and many of the 
customary water courses dry up, the Heron, 
instead of fleeing to moister realms, resorts 
to the pastures and the dryest of uplands, 
and there devotes himself to the extermina- 
tion of mice, moles, and gophers, and even 


The Great Blue Herons 


young ground squirrels. According to Mr. John G. Tyler, of Fresno, 
this species is known in the San Joaquin Valley as the Gopher Crane, 
and is there accorded a fairly tolerant protection by the farmers because 
of its distinguished services. He declares it to be one of the best gopher- 
destroyers in existence, and says:! “It is no uncommon sight to see a 
heron standing motionless for hours at a time in an alfalfa field waiting 
for a gopher to make its appearance. Small fish, frogs, and probably 
lizards, if they are obtainable, are eaten, and on many occasions herons 
have been observed in pairs on the dry barren hillsides along the San 
Joaquin River busily engaged in catching grasshoppers.”’ 


We dwellers by the southern sea oftenest descry this bird as a lone 
watcher far out in the kelp-beds, and we are moved to call him the Kelp 
Heron. The same tactics of tireless patience and lightning speed evi- 
dently avail here to secure for him an abundant harvest of smelts and 
shrimps, for the bird will stand by the hour on a sinking raft of kelp- 
fronds, though it leave him submerged to the belly. His sea-legs are, 
therefore, considering their great length, rather the best on earth, for 
their owner has to maintain his balance in the face of unceasing motion, 
and so nicely, that suspicious little fishes shall not be put to flight by a 
single false motion. Small marvel, then, that we should have seen a 
Heron, just off-shore near Santa Barbara, riding a piece of driftwood 
not over seven feet in length, and so light that the weight of the bird 
kept it nearly submerged. The tide was going out, so that we did not 
have the satisfaction of seeing the majestic wader encounter the very 
breakers, but there was a current which bore the living statue along 
briskly in a line parallel with the shore, and in the trough of some very 
considerable swells. We watched his progress for perhaps a hundred 
yards and saw scarcely a sign of effort, only ease and mastery. No doubt 
the Kelp Heron could give a creditable slack-wire performance. I have 
seen one—on Lake Erie it was—stand on one edge of a fish-net and, 
reaching down to the water some two feet below, select an underweight 
whitefish. 

In contrast with this dexterity of balance is the difficulty which 
the bird experiences in effecting a landing. They can fly all right, as 
some aviators can, but the trouble comes in lighting. It is amusing on 
a windy day to see these long-legged creatures trying to establish connec- 
tions with a coveted perch, such as the rail of a deserted wharf. Facing 
the wind, some of the birds will fly past their mark until they feel their 
dangling feet engage the timber, and then allow the wind to right them; 
while others will thrust the feet well forward and critically observe the 


1 Pacific Coast Avifauna, No. 9, p. 21. 


TSQL 


The Great Blue Herons 


moment of contact, after which they struggle into position with great 
flappings. 

The Great Blue Heron may have his limitations, but he is no sluggard 
nor licensed butt of ridicule. The late Mr. Oscar Nuhn, of Seattle, 
recounted to me a passage to which he was eye witness, between a Great 
Blue Heron and a Kingfisher. It seems that the heron was standing on 
a log which jutted over a stream, and was industriously minding his own 
business. But the presence of a strange fisherman on his preserves 
excited the jealousy of the Kingfisher. The little gendarme made re- 
peated noisy passes at the heron and, finally, emboldened by his own 


Taken in San Mateo County Photo by the Author 


A GROUND NEST OF THE CALIFORNIA GREAT BLUE HERON 


racket, charged full at the heron’s head. Quick as thought the heron’s 
bill shot out, and the little king was neatly spitted. The impact of the 
charge was such that the heron was knocked into the water; but he 
quickly recovered, and the land had rest for a season. 

During the breeding season these large birds are gregarious. Their 
immense nests—as big as a washtub, Finley says—are by no means to 


TS92 


The Great Blue Herons 


be concealed, so the colony seeks 
protection in the depths of a tule 
swamp; or else resorts to the heights 
of forest trees difficult or impossible 
of access. Sycamore trees are favor- 
ites in central and southern Cali- 
fornia, while firs or redwoods are 
utilized in the northwestern coun- 
ties. The larger trees are likely to 
be the most heavily tenanted; and 
sometimes a single tree, rearing 
aloft from the depths of a not easily 
accessible swamp, will be crowded 
with nests. 

Mr. William L. Finley, in 
company with his alter ego, Mr. 
Herman T. Bohlman, visited one of 
our largest colonies near San Fran- 
cisco in 1904, and found! it in an 
unusually prosperous condition. The 
Great Blues were nesting in company 
with the Black-crowned Night Her- 
ons, whose untidy bunches of sticks 
were relegated to the extremities of 
the sycamore branches, or to the 
lower levels of the surrounding wil- 
lows and alders. A great sycamore 
seven feet through at the base was 
the center of activity in the heron 
village. “The monster was a hun- 
dred and twenty feet high and had a spread of limbs equal to its height. 
In this single tree we counted forty-one blue heron nests and twenty-eight 
night heron nests: sixty-nine nests in one tree. In another tree were 
seventeen of the larger nests and twenty-eight of the smaller.’’ These 
gentlemen estimated 700 nests as the equipment of the entire colony, 
with those of the smaller birds preponderating; and from a single elevated 
station counted over 400 eggs in sight at once. 

Since the nests in this mild climate contain eggs by the 25th of 
March or the Ist of April, a visit should be paid to a heronry about the 
first or second week in May, if one would experience the most striking 
sensations. In the absence of the old birds, the youngsters, awkward, 


Taken in California Photo by Finley and Bohlman 
A “FROZEN” HERON 


1 Condor, Vol. XIII., March, 1906, pp. 35-40. 


7S93 


Taken in California Photo by H. T. Bohlman and W. L. Finley 
A TREETOP COLONY 


The Great Blue Herons 


scrawny, ill-favored lit- 
tle brutes that they are, 
spend most of their time 
squabbling and trying to 
push each other out of 
the nest. There is with 
most herons a consider- 
able disparity of ages, 
and consequently of 
sizes, in the brood. The 
runt gets trampled or 
smothered in the early 
days, and one or more 
decaying carcasses of 
younger sons are a fa- 
miliar enough compo- 
nent in the lining of a 
heron’s nest. Now and 
then one of a conten- 
tious brood succeeds in toppling a brother off the platform and down the 
long abyss; but oftenest the pursued one escapes along the branch; or, 
if he falls, catches on a limb below, and scrambles back to safety, ‘‘tooth”’ 
and toe-nail. If he does fall to the ground, it is all day with him, for no 
matter what the state of his skin upon arrival, the parent birds never 
trouble to look him up. 


But however scattered the young may be between whiles, the ap- 
proach of the parent bird is a signal for all to gather. Upon alighting, 
the old bird first indulges a pensive moment, like a cow which is expecting 
another order of grass sent up from the proventriculum, after which she 
suddenly jabs her bill down the neck of the nearest squawker and dis- 
penses sweet nourishment from her secret store. This she does with each 
child in turn till all are fed. 

Fishing is necessarily a precarious business, involving long hours 
and more or less night work. The chicks suffer somewhat from exposure, 
no doubt, and the burning sun takes toll of the weaklings. Left alone, 
the babes console themselves with a low, lonesome cluck; but whenever 
the old birds are about, the older squabs keep up a loud cackling, 
not unlike that of Guinea hens, less shrill, perhaps, but of immensely 
greater volume. The parents, too, make an astonishing amount of noise, 
roaring at times like caged lions. This bellowing of the heron, as rendered 
at home, or as produced when frightened at close quarters is, without 


IS94 


The Great Blue Herons 


exaggeration, the most soul-emptying succession of expletives in the 
North American bird language. 

But all this insight into the domestic economy of the Heron must 
be obtained zmcog. Once you are recognized in the undergrowth below 
as a dreaded human, a great hush falls upon the colony. The anxious 
parents shrink until every feather seems glued to their persons, full length, 
and if possible they slink away. The clamoring youngsters, standing full 
height in their nests, at a signal from an adult turn to stone. After this 
they sink down into the nest, and so out of sight, by a movement as 
insensible as that of the hands of a clock. 

Bethinking myself of this ruse, | was once able to save a situation 
and turn the tables neatly upon a heron,—the subject of the portrait on 
page 1890. I had suddenly thrust my head up over a sand-dune ridge 
to reconnoiter, and spied this heron, not forty feet away, fishing by the 
lagoon. He spotted me instantly; but instead of ‘“‘ducking,” I began to 
sink “‘by a movement as insensible,’’ etc. This graduated disappearance 
served perfectly to allay the bird’s fears, for he was quite unprepared to 
see me five minutes later, camera leveled and cocked, around the end of the 
ridge. An instant of strained apprehension, and he was mine—photo- 
graphically speaking. 

According to Mr. Chase W. Littlejohn, a large colony of these herons 
once occupied the heights of a tall row of eucalyptus trees near Redwood 
City. In spite of the forbidding aspect of this heavenly redoubt, the 
furor oélogicus impelled many a valiant youth year after year to storm 
these egg-laden heights. Finally, in the spring of 1900, the birds gave up 
and disappeared from the eucalyptus trees. It was not till the spring of 
1902 that Mr. Littlejohn found them established, a mile or so from 
anywhere and six miles from anywhere in particular, in the open saline 
marsh bordering on San Francisco Bay. Their only cover was obscurity, 
for the salicornia beds are not half a heron’s height. Here Messrs. Car- 
riger and Pemberton found them, some fifty pairs, in 1903. And here I 
studied them, now reduced to thirty-two pairs, in company with Mr. 
Littlejohn, in 191t. 

Arrived upon the ground, nearly spent with lugging cameras, we 
found great, hollow, half-spheres (or so they seemed with their upturned 
edges) of slender sticks, resting on the ground. The eucalyptus withes 
which composed the nests had been brought from a distance not less than 
six or eight miles. The colony was quite scattering and the nests in the 
most populous portion were never less than eight or ten feet apart. 
Although, at best, there was little protection of bush or sedge, the nesting 
platforms were always placed by the side of a tide channel, where the 
general vegetation was heaviest, and they were not conspicuous at over 


TSQ5 


The American Egret 


forty yards. The birds themselves were exceedingly wary, standing about 
in the offing like anxious sentinels, and scarcely venturing within rifle 
range, let alone camera range. 

No one claims that this “blue crane”’ is really game, but the fact 
remains that thoughtless people with guns, not sportsmen, of course, seem 
to find his towering bulk irresistible, and have succeeded for the most 
part in driving his not unfriendly presence beyond the limits of rifle 
range. Why cannot some inventor of aeroplanes bring out an automatic 
soaring target, as big as a barn door, stuffed with tin cans, chicken feathers 
and a bottle of red ink, which when hit with a bullet would fall to earth 
with a crash like the walls of Jericho, and so satisfy at trifling cost this 
peculiar lust of lead-throwing? The stateliness of the Heron is too vital 
a part of our western landscape to be so wantonly sacrificed. 

W. Lee Chambers records! the disappearance at Santa Monica of 
a colony which in 1895 numbered 35 pairs, and in 1901 was reduced to 
one. Even “‘scientific collectors’? would do well to spare this bird hence- 
forth. A recent review, based on the consideration of 221 specimens, 
suggests the possibility of there being three subspecies in California. No 
doubt “‘more adequate material,’ say ten times greater, would settle that 
point, and also—the Heron. 


No. 383 


American Egret 


A. O. U. No. 196. Casmerodias egretta (Gmelin). 

Synonyms.—WHITE EGRET. GREAT WHITE EGRET. CALIFORNIA WHITE 
EGRET. WESTERN EGRET. WHITE HERON. CALIFORNIA WHITE HERON. ‘‘WHITE 
CRANE.” 

Description.—A dult in breeding plumage: Entire plumage pure white; from the 
interscapular region originates a train of from forty to fiftv elongated feathers, ‘‘aigrettes,”’ 
with enlarged and stiffened shafts, and decomposed filamentous webs, which reach 
from eight to twelve inches beyond the tail; lores orange. Bill vellow with black tip; 
legs and feet black. Adults after the breeding season and immature: Without elongated 
plumes on the back. Length, including dorsal plumes: 914.4-1066.8 (36.00-42.00). 
Average of 5 Los Banos specimens: Length (not including plumes) 669 (26.34); wing 
388 (15.27); bill 115 (4.53); tarsus 158.8 (6.22). 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; pure white plumage with elongated propor- 
tions distinctive; bill yellow, as distinguished from Egretta thula thula, much larger. 

Nesting.— Nest: A platform of sticks in bushes or trees near or over water. 
Eggs: 3 or 4, rarely 5; light bluish green (glaucous green to deep lichen-green). Av. 
size 57-15 X 38.1 (2.25 x 1.50). Season: April. 

1 Condor, Vol. [V., March, 1902, p. 47. 


S96 


The American Egret 


General Range.—Temperate and tropical America. Breeds in Oregon and 
California, and from North Carolina and the Guif States south to Argentina. Winters 
from California and the Gulf States southward. Formerly bred north to New Jersey 
and even Wisconsin, and has occurred north to Canadian Provinces. 

Distribution in California.—Breeds sparingly in the San Joaquin Valley and 
at Clear Lake. Formerly abundant and breeding in othér large lakes of northeastern 
section. Now scarce and of irregular occurrence irrespective of season anywhere save 
in northeastern plateau, where found only in summer. Winters in some numbers 
in valley of the Colorado River, and is probably increasing in numbers. 

Authorities —Gambel (Ardea occidentalis), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 222 (Calif.); Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Circular no. 84, 1911, p. I, 
map (distribution); zbzd., U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 45, 1913, p. 40, map 
(distr. and migr.); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 30 (status in s. Calif.); 
Mailliard, Condor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 74 (San Joaquin Valley; recent abundance). 


CASMERODIAS EGRETTA, the American Beauty, virgin daugh- 
ter of the wilderness, and Queen of the South, has been freed at last 
from her persecutors. This hunted wild thing, whose image few of us 
had seen, and whose name had almost become a memory, is at liberty 
now to put on her bridal array of dazzling linen and snowy plumes. 
She may grace our horizon upon her migratory passages, or she may 
light up our swamps when she deigns to pause for rest and amphibian 
refreshment. There is none left to molest or to make her afraid. 

The story of the sacrifice of this magnificent bird upon the altar of 
fashion, and of her subsequent redemption by the hand of the American 
Association of Audubon Societies, has been often told. The slaughter 
of the egrets at the behest of Parisian feather merchants was the most 
tragic episode in American ornithological history. The rescue, effected 
by the aroused sentiments of pity and indignation, crystallizing at last 
in the enactment of the Lacy Act, and the ratification (August 16, 1916) 
and final approval (July 3, 1918) of the Federal migratory-bird treaty, 
was also the most sensational and gratifying. The campaign of educa- 
tion which was carried on for fifteen years, and which brought about 
this splendid result, may be likened to those which abolished slavery 
and, more recently, liquor. It was a people’s movement which would 
not be denied. Of course making and enforcing laws are not exactly 
synonymous. A villain named Cuthbert is said to have cleaned up 
thirty-five hundred dollars as the result of three days’ successful law- 
breaking in a Florida swamp. But the Government means business 
today, and the last “blind piggers”’ of featherdom are being cleaned out. 
Two quotations from a late report of the Chief of Bureau of Biological 
Survey (June 30, 1919) are apropos: 

“The treaty act and the regulations thereunder make it unlawful 
to possess, purchase, sell, or transport aigrettes or the skins of any migra- 


ISO7 


The American Egret 


eee = Oty birds, 
Se Se “ff except under 
permit for 
purely scien- 
tific purposes; 
but the skins 
and feathers 
of migratory 
game birds 
lawfully killed 
may be pos- 
sessed without 
a permit. The 
wearing of al- 
grettes and 
plumes of mi- 
gratory birds, 
other than the 
EE feathers of mi- 
Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author gratory game 
A CONSPICUOUS FIGURE birds lawfully 
killed, is thus 
made unlawful, and it is believed that women will refrain from 
wearing aigrettes or other prohibited plumage as soon as they have 
become familiar with the provisions of the law. The market for these 
plumes will then be closed and a check placed upon the indiscriminate 

slaughter of these beautiful birds of plumage.” 

“The extent to which this illegal traffic has been conducted was indi- 
cated when United States game wardens, armed with a Federal warrant, 
searched the apartments of a Seminole Indian at Miami, Fla., and seized 
aigrettes valued at about $3000. It is reliably stated that the yearly 
earnings of this Indian from the sale of plumes to Florida tourists and 
others have for several years exceeded $5000. The Indian is now under 
bonds to await the action of the Federal court.” 

We may only pause here to remind ourselves how hideous was the 
persecution from which the bird has only just escaped. The peculiar 
cruelty of the war of extermination lay in the fact that in order to secure 
the aigrettes which were to nod and dance on some lady’s bonnet, the 
bird which owned them had to be shot during the nesting season. The 
magnificent train of feathers is provided only at this time of year, as a 
bride is granted her best robes for the wedding day and the honeymoon; 
and if the butchers, whom the feather-merchants hired, had waited until 


ISOS 


The American Egret 


the young birds were raised, the wedding garments of the parents would 
either have been worn threadbare in service, or else cast aside. There- 
fore, since it had to be done, as our gentle ladies had decreed, the only way 
was to visit a colony during the breeding season, shoot all the old birds 
(who would not, of course, desert their young), snatch out their nuptial 
plumes, and leave their carcasses to putrify, while the starving children 
called down from the treetops to the ears that heard not. Thus, a single 
plume-hunter has killed 
hundreds of Egrets in a 
day, and in the palmy 
days of the “industry”’ 
certain gangs were able 
to kill tens of thousands 
in a single season. 

Of the former abun- 
dance of the Egret in 
California we have no 
clear conception. Heer- 
mann said,! ““They breed 
in large numbers, asso- 
ciated with other species, 
on the edges of the 
sloughs and marshes.” 
Henshaw wrote of con- 
ditions in 1877 and 1878: 
“Colonies of this species 
reside on many of the 
lakes which lie at the 
foot of the mountains in 
eastern California and 
western Nevada.” It is 
probable, therefore, that 
the species occurred in 
summer wherever there 
was sufficient induce- 
ment of water and flood- 
ed woods or large 
expanse of tules, and, 
notably, in the great 
interior valley. Even 


=a 


1 Pac, R. R. Surv., Vol. 10, p. 63. Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Auth 
AMERICAN EGRETS 


TS99 


The American Egret 


Taken in Imperial Valley Photo by the Author 
A VIEW OF THE LOWER COLORADO VALLEY 


LOOKING ACROSS INTO ARIZONA‘ A FAVORITE WINTER RANGE OF THE EGRETS 


during the period of maximum depression, say during the first decade of 
the present century, stragglers were occasionally noted both in winter and 
in summer. Linton believed that there was a small colony nesting at 
Buena Vista Lake in the summer of 1908.1 Willett says:2. ‘‘During the 
last ten years I have seen three or four birds in the marshes of Los Angeles 
and Orange Counties.’’ During the period of slow recovery, say from 
1910 on, scattered individuals have been noted with such frequency that 
occurrences are no longer considered worthy of record. At Santa Barbara 
we count on seeing at least one bird every winter, though I have never 
seen more than four at once. In the winter of 1913 I had the privilege 
of seeing a “‘large’’ company of Egrets in the heavily wooded backwater 
of the Laguna Dam at Potholes. In the center of the lagoon, where the 
dead cottonwood timber was thickest, they had established a sort of 
noonday rest camp. On the 8th of February, from the vantage of a 
treetop, I counted twenty-eight birds as they filed into camp, besides a 
little Snowy Heron who acted as file-closer. I felt as one who had gazed 
upon the bivouac of Diana and her huntresses. And for myself I would 
as lief shoot into a flock of goddesses as to molest these snowy splendors. 
Oh, the unutterable hunnishness of the traffic which brought our angels 
of the swamp to such a pass! 


1 Pac. Coast Avifauna, No. 7 (1912), p. 31. 
2 Tbid. 


7900 


The Snowy Egret 


Of the present breeding of the Egret within our limits, we have 
little exact information. William L. Finley reported! a small colony at 
Clear Lake, a government reservation, and Dr. H. C. Bryant gives a 
brief account2 of a nesting colony located near Crows Landing, in Stan- 
islaus County. Nests in this colony, which was visited on the 3rd of 
August, 1915, were found in the tops of large oak trees lining a small 
creek tributary to the San Joaquin River. Only a few birds lingered 
at the time of the visit, but a neighboring farmer estimated the normal 
population at from fifty to seventy-five, and said that a much larger 
number had nested in the same vicinity two years before. 

The largest colony in the West formerly nested at Malheur Lake in 
central-eastern Oregon, but the plume-hunters reduced this from count- 
less thousands to a pitiful remnant of six or eight pairs, which the Federal 
authorities are carefully nursing back into life. By their success in 
this regard we shall be able to measure the degree of culture which western 
civilization has finally attained. 


No. 384 


Snowy Egret 


A. O. U. No. 197. Egretta thula thula (Molina). 

Synonyms.—Li1TLeE WHITE EGRET. SNowy HERON. LESSER EGRET. 

Description.—Adult in breeding plumage: Entire plumage pure white; a 
bunch of 40 or 50 “‘aigrettes’’ originates on middle of back and reaches to or beyond 
tail; character of plumes as in Casmerodias egretta, but delicately recurved toward tip; 
a lengthened occipital crest of decomposed feathers; feathers on side of neck below 
somewhat similar to those on back, not recurved; lores, eyes, and toes yellow; bill 
black, yellow at base; legs mainly black. Adult after breeding season and immature: 
Without dorsal plumes. Length 508-635 (20.00-25.00); wing 254 (10.00); bill 82.55 
(3.25); tarsus 105.4 (4.15). 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size; pure white plumage distinctive for all save 
Casmerodias egretta; much smaller, and bill chiefly black. 

Nesting.— Nest: A sturdy platform of rushes lashed midway of tules, or else 
sticks placed in bushes. Eggs: 3 to 5; ovate to elliptical ovate; light bluish green, 
pale glaucous green. Av. size 42.9 x 32.5 (1.69 x 1.28). Season: May. 

Range of Egretta thula—Temperate and tropical America. Formerly bred from 
New Jersey, Indiana, Nebraska, and Oregon, south to Chile and Argentina; now 
breeds locally from North Carolina to Florida and Louisiana, in Utah near Salt Lake, 
and casually (?) in central California. Winters from the Colorado River delta and 
Florida southward. Has wandered after the close of the breeding season casually to 
Nova Scotia, Ontario, Alberta, and British Columbia. 


1 Bird Lore, Vol. XIII., Nov.-Dec., 1911, p. 347. 
2 Calif. Fish and Game, Vol. I., No. 5, p. 238. 


IQOL 


The Snowy Egret 


Distribution in California.—Of rare and irregular occurrence, chiefly in the 
Sacramento-San Joaquin Valley, where also it has been seen in winter as far north as 
Stockton (Belding). Occurs coastally during migrations (Santa Barbara, May 2-4, 
1912; May 1-5, 1913; Apr. 28, 1914). One breeding record (4 nests), Los Banos, May 
27, 1914. 

Authorities.—Baird (Garzetta candidissima), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 
1858, p. 665 (Sacramento Valley; Ft. Tejon); J. Mailliard, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, 
p. 50 (Sacramento, June, 1880, one spec.); Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., 
no. 45, 1913, p. 45, map (distr. and migr.); Dawson, Condor, vol. xvii., 1915, p. 97 
(Dos Palos, Merced Co.; desc. nest, eggs, and habits). 


THE STRENUOUS campaign of education which culminated in the 
summer of 1913 in the passage of the McLean Bill, forbidding the trans- 
portation into the United States of the plumage of any wild bird for 
millinery or other non-scientific purpose, has fortunately relieved us of 
the necessity of reviewing in detail the cruel history of the near extirpa- 
tion of the most innocent and beautiful of all the denizens of swampy 
wildernesses. What has been accomplished can never be undone; for 
the enlightened sentiment of America will never again submit to the 
ruthless dictation of the feather merchants of lower Broadway. True, 


Tat eae ee BS 
Taken in Merced County 


Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF SNOWY HERON 


1902 


the world battle is not 
yet won. Paris, who 
cares not where she gets 
her finery, is still to be 
reckoned with. Un- 
humbled by her awful 
lessons of adversity, she 
still incites her demi- 
monde to flaunt its bor- 
rowed feathers before 
the dazzled eyes alike of 
sober dames and _ silly 
debutantes, who might 
better be at home exer- 
cising their ingenuity in 
the construction of hats 
and gowns which should 
really express their own 
individuality. Better a 
thousand times a bonnet 
made in America than 
a gaudy creation from 
Paris whose ornaments 
are eloquent of plun- 
dered wildernesses and 
blood and crime. 

But the Snowy Her- 
on, vision of loveliness, 
garbed as purely as an 
angel, tenderest victim 
ever sought out by the 
high priests of fashion— 
our Snowy Heron is 
coming back. Of the 
herons in the eastern 
Southland, we get most 
encouraging reports. 


The Snowy Egret 


ST STR RE TITRE | 


SD SLSR, OBE 2 LT 
Yl BW SATE ME SEED BEG Ea teats Did oN iam 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the A uthor 
A PASSING ANGEL 


Reduced at one time by the ravages of the plume-hunters to the verge of 
supposed extinction, they have shown under the protective measures of 
the Audubon Societies, halting and handicapped as they were at first, 
notable recuperative power. Now a score are reported from some point 
in Florida, nesting with Louisianas and Squawks and Little Blues; now a 


I9O3 


The Snowy Egret 


hundred appear in South Carolina, gladdening the eyes of some eager 
bird-watcher; now a thousand in some great Louisiana rookery confirm 
the good news that the glory of the Southland is to return. 

Of the Snowy Heron in California, little is to be said, but much is 
to be hoped. Early observers either overlooked it or took it asa matter of 
course. Heermann! simply says ‘‘abundant,’’ while Newberry says 
nothing. Dr. Brewer, writing in 1884, says:? ‘‘Dr. Cooper speaks of it as 
common at all seasons along the southern coast of California. In the 
summer it migrates to the summit of the Sierra Nevada [!], to Lake 


sees 


Taken in Merced Counly Photo by the Author 


SNOWY HEIRS 


Tahoe, and probably throughout California and Oregon. He has always 
found it very shy, more so than the larger one [Casmerodias egretta}. 
About the end of April it migrates to some extent from the southern parts 
of the State in large flocks, but he has met with it in July near San Pedro, 
where he supposed that it was nesting in the mountains, or some other 
retired places in the vicinity.”’ 

There being no breeding record forthcoming, it was later supposed 
that all written records were of wanderers, it being well known that Amer- 


1 Pac. R. R. Survey, Vol. 10, p. 63. 
2 Baird, Brewer and Ridgway, Water Birds, Vol. I., p. 30. 


1904 


eee 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
A JAPANESQUE 


THE UPPER FIGURE IS THAT OF A SNOWY HERON, THE LOWER THAT OF A BLACK-CROWNED 
NIGHT HERON 


The Snowy Egret 


ican Herons are prone 
to wander north at the 
close of the breeding sea- 
son, and there is such a 
record of the Snowy 
Heron as far north as 
British Columbia, viz., 
two specimens taken 
near Vancouver, B. C., 
in May, 1879. 

Only recently 
records began to reap- 
pee iv jormome, (Cy 12 
Streator had noted it as 
a common winter visi- 
tant at Santa Barbara 
in 1885, while the next 
published appearance in 
California was in the 
spring of 1907 at Buena 
Vista, by C. B. Linton. 
On July 11, 1912, H. C. 
Bryant saw three indi- 
viduals at Los Banos. 
Willett,! writing in 1912, 
had never seen them and 
judged them near extinc- 
tion. 

My own acquaint- 
ance with the Snowy 
Heron began at Santa 
Barbara, when a solitary 
bird appeared on the 
2nd of May, 1912. On 
the 12th of the following 
February we found a 
single individual trail- 
ing a large flock of Amer- 
ican Egrets at Potholes. 
Again, on the 28th of 


1 Birds of Southern Calif., p. 31. 


TQOS 


The Louisiana Heron 


April, 1914, two birds appeared at ‘‘Sandyland,’”’ near Santa Barbara; 
while on the 26th of May, 1914, we ran plump into a small breeding 
colony of five pairs at Los Bajos. 

We had seen the birds for several days previously, standing like 
marble statues at the margin of the smaller ponds, looking, no doubt, for 
tadpoles and minnows, or else stalking sedately about on the dry land. 
The country hereabouts is nearly destitute of trees, so we found the 
Snowies making their humble cradles in the depths of a small cat-tail 
island along with two hundred pairs of Squawks. 

The quarters were so narrow and the nests so crowded, and the birds 
rose at such a distance, that we could not among the thronging, squawking 
Night Herons, trace any of the gentle silent Snowies to their nests. But 
we soon made out eggs of a definitely smaller type, reposing on a platform 
which for construction was indistinguishable from those of the Squawks, 
mere shelves of broken-down reeds interspersed or reinforced with twigs of 
spirostachys. Five of these suspected nests were discovered, four of 
which contained five eggs each and one four. On the 27th of May the 
fair prisons on one of the platforms began to burst open, and they de- 
livered at intervals of two days chicks covered with long sparse white 
down. Their appearance, indubitable Snowies, taught us two things: 
viz., that the Snowy Heron deposits its eggs every other day, and—the 
complementary fact—that incubation begins with the depositing of the 
first egg. Indeed, this must be the rule with all birds of this group, for 
with eggs left exposed in such a situation, the sun’s rays or enemies 
would be fatal from the first. The chicks so hatched showed also an 
increasing disparity in size and strength, but even the week-old first-born 
when visited on June 4th was amazingly small and helpless. The entire 
brood sat with open mouths panting lustily; yet not even the oldest 
offered any defense, as, I am sure, a like-aged Squawk would have done. 


No. 385 


Louisiana Heron 


A. O. U. No. 199. Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis (Gosse). 

Description.—Adult: ‘‘Slaty-blue on back and wings; mostly white below and 
along throat-line; crest and most of neck reddish-purple, mixed below with slaty; longest 
narrow feathers of crest white; lower back and rump white, but concealed by the dull 
purplish-brown feathers of the train, which whitens toward the end. Bill black and 
blue, more lilac at base and to lores; legs and feet slate-color; iris red. Adults in winter 
lack the plumes and have the bill black and yellow; lores yellow; legs yellowish-green, 
dusky in front; iris red. Young variously different but never white; lacking long 
occipital plumes and dorsal train; neck and back bright brownish-red; rump, throat- 


7906 


ia Louinmn Levon 


April, 1914, two birds appeared at ‘‘Sandyland,” near Santa Barbara; — 
while on the 26th of May, 1914, we ran plump into a small Dreetling |) 
colony of five pairs at Los Banos. ; 

We had seen the birds for several days previously, standing like 
marble statues at the margin of the smaller ponds, looking, no doubt, for 
tadpoles and minnows, or else stalking sedately about on the dry land. 
The country hereabouts is nearly destitute of trees, so we found the 
Snawies making their humble cradles in the depths of a small cat-tail 
island along with two hundred pairs of Squawks. 

The quarters were so narrow and the nests so crowded, and the birds 
rase at such a distance, that we could not among the thronging, squawking 
Night Herons, trace any of the gentle silent Snowies to their nests. But 
we soon made out eggs of a definitely smaller type, reposing on a platform 
which for construction was indistinguishable from those of the Squawks, 
mere shelves of broken-down reeds interspersed or reinforced with twigs of 
sptrostachys. Five of these suspected nests were discovered, four of 
witich contained five eggs each and one four. On the 27th of May the 
fair prisons on one of the platforms began to burst open, and they de- 
fivered at intervals of two days chicks covered with long sparse whute 
down, Their appearance, indubitable Snowies, taught us two things: 
viz., that the Snowy Hero nosits ire e eve pened day, and—the 
complementary Eo en tito OR ont Heron... depositing of the 
first ege. Indeed, this must Ce ea all birds of this group, for q 
with eggs left ox Bram 4 water-color painting by Allan Brooks. yay or enemies 
w ould be fatal from the first. The chicks so hatched showed also an 

increasing disparity in size and strength, but even the week-old first-born 
when visited on June 4th was amazingly small and helpless.. The entire 
brood sat with open mouths panting lustily; yet not even the oldest 
citered any defense, as, 1 am sure, a like-aged Squawk would have done. 


Ne. 385. 
iovisiana Heron 


Huaiaemaeea rriceies raficollis (Gosse). 

pce : hack gai wings; mostly white below and 

pu ‘ple , mixed below with slaty; longest. 

ere of pee 4 pase) white, but concealed by the dull 

purplish tis 4 Hie traia, whieh whiteas toward the end. Bill black’and 
Blue, mere? Rie asd anil det slage-color: iris red. Adults i winter” 
lack the paler ves aiel baa the 18H tlack and vellow; lores vellow; legs yellowish-green, 
dusky in front: iris red. eens varionsty different but never white; Jacking long. 
occipital A ah awd dorsal train: neck and back bright brownish-red; rump, thtoae: 


£906 


The Anthony Green Heron 


line, and underparts white; quills and tail pale purplish-blue; legs dusky-greenish”’ 
(Coues “‘Key,”’ 5th Ed.). Length of adult 609.6-685.8 (24.00-27.00) exclusive of train; 
wing 254-279.4 (10.00-11.00); tail 88.9 (3.50); bill 101.6-127 (4.00-5.00); tarsus 101.6 
(4.00). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: Of sticks, in large colonies, 
placed in trees, usually mangroves low over water. Eggs: 3 to 5; bluish green, scarcely 
distinguishable from those of Snowy Heron (Egretta thula thula). Avy. size 44.45 x 33 
(1.75 X 1.30). 

Range of Hydranassa tricolor—Southeastern North America, West Indies, 
Middle America, and northern South America (Guiana, Venezuela, Amazonia). 

Range of H. t. ruficollis—‘‘Breeds from North Carolina and the Gulf States to 
the West Indies, Mexico (both coasts), and Central America; winters from South 
Carolina southward; casual in Indiana, New Jersey, and Long Island” (A. O. U. 
Check-List, 3rd Ed.). 

Occurrence in California.—Accidental, one record; San Diego, Jan. 17, 1914, 
by Laurence J. Huey. 

Authorities.—Huey (Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis), Condor, vol. xvii., 1915, 
p. 57 (La Punta, San Diego Bay, Jan. 17, 1914, one spec.); Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., 
Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 45, 1913, p. 51, map (distr. and migr.). 


HERONS of almost any species may be expected to wander in the 
summer far north of their breeding range. But the occurrence in winter 
of this specimen of Hydranassa, not known to breed west nor north of 
Guaymas, Mexico, is altogether exceptional. The bird is one of the 
commonest of Herons in the South Atlantic and Gulf States, and breeds 
in colonies which sometimes number thousands. 


No. 386 


Anthony’s Green Heron 


A. O. U. No. 201c. Butorides virescens anthonyi (Mearns). 
Synonyms.—FLy-UP-THE-CREEK. RAIN Crow. 


Description.—Adult: Top of head and occipital crest glossy dark green (bottle- 
green); median line of throat and neck white, boldly spotted on jugulum with greenish 
black or greenish dusky; remainder of head and neck rich maroon-chestnut (in extreme 
examples, and paler and more tawny in average specimens), the feathers more or less 
decomposed; general color of back and wings green, the interscapulars lanceolate and 
tapering, with a glaucous or slaty cast and with white shafts; middle coverts bright 
bottle-green edged with buff; greater coverts dull bottle-green edged with whitish; 
the primaries dusky slate, with glaucous and greenish reflections; the inner primaries 
and secondaries narrowly tipped with white; underparts slaty or brownish gray, with 
buffy or ochraceous washing, and irregularly outcropping white. Bill dark green 
above, yellow below; iris and lores yellow; feet and legs greenish yellow. Immature: 
Occipital crest not so long; crown streaked with cinnamon; chestnut of neck not so 


1907 


The Anthony Green Heron 


deep, reduced in extent; back feathers unmodified, plain, glossy greenish; wing-coverts 
broadly margined with ochraceous, some of the feathers, with the outer scapulars, 
having wedge-shaped tips of buffy or whitish; underparts whitish, striped with greenish- 
and reddish-dusky, most heavily on sides of breast and neck. [The foregoing description 
applies almost equally well to typicus, which is little if any darker than extreme examples 
of this form; but anthonyi tends to paleness, especially in the less intense chestnut of 
the neck and sides of breast, in the more extensive white of the throat and breast 
centrally, and in the paler slaty of the remaining underparts. Moreover, anthonyi 
is a somewhat larger bird than B. virescens virescens, although the difference at no 
point exceeds 7% of the former.] Length 406.4-470 (16.00-18.50); average of 15 
males: wing 196 (7.72); tail 72.8 (2.97); bill 61 (2.40); tarsus 53.9 (2.12). Female 
slightly smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; chestnut and greenish coloration above. 

Nesting.— Nest: <A platform of sticks placed at moderate heights in bushes of 
swamp, or trees of neighboring orchards, etc. Eggs: 3 to 8, 9 of record; pale bluish 
green. Av. size 38.1 x 29.2 (1.50 x 1.15). Season: May; one brood. 

Range of Butorides virescens.—United States south to Central America and the 
West Indies. 

Range of B. v. anthonyi.—Southwestern United States and Mexico. Breeds 
from California, northern Lower California, and Arizona, south to Michoacan; winters 
from southern California to southern Mexico. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common summer resident by lakes and 
streams west of the Sierras and in the southeastern portion of the State south to San 
Diego. Sparingly resident in winter in the San Diegan district, and of record at Stock- 
ton (Belding). 

Authorities.—Baird (Butorides virescens), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 1858, 
p. 676, part (Sacramento Valley; Tulare Valley; Ft. Tejon); Mearns, Auk, vol. xii., 
1895, p. 257 (Ardea virescens anthonyi, new subspecies; type locality, Seven Wells, 
Salton R., Colo. Desert, Calif.); Oberholser, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. 42, 1912, 
p. 543 (syst.; monogr.); Cooke, U.S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 45, 1913, p. 58, 
map (distr. and migr.); Tyler, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 9, 1913, p. 21 (San Joaquin 
Valley; nest and eggs; habits). 


THE ANTHONY Green Heron is perhaps nowhere so common as is 
the eastern bird virescens, but it is fairly well distributed in California 
along streams and by lowland waters, save in the northern portion. The 
bird is essentially solitary in habit and only abundance of fishing will in- 
duce a few pairs to form a scattered colony for nesting purposes. Arriving 
early in April, the birds quickly deploy through the swamps and along 
shaded lagoons, where they lead a furtive, albeit highly prosperous, exist- 
ence. When surprised at his work of frog-catching, the Heron either rises 
with a frightened squawk and makes off with quick graceful wing-strokes, 
or else alights easily upon some midway branch to reconsider the danger. 
Here he may pace restlessly to and fro along the limb, craning his neck and 
twitching his tail in a very nervous manner, or he may elect to ‘‘freeze”’ in 
some non-committal attitude until danger is past. Opportunity is thus 


7908 


AyunoD odaiq uvg ul uaye fT, 
dayg-y plpuog sq ydvibozoyg v UWO4oT 
NS UL ON 
UOAIF{ UseI4) AUOYWUY 6/U 


The Anthony Green Heron 


afforded for study at close range of a plumage which is unusually hand- 
some, especially as regards the bottle-green and glaucous shades of the 
upperparts. Again, I have caught a bird in the open by a tide-gut, alert 
and very cocky, intent upon the 
fishing. Upon discovering that he 
is the object of scrutiny, the bird 
will shrivel marvelously, upon the 
instant, and go scuttling off across 
the mud, praying only that he may 
be taken for an emaciated Marsh 
Sparrow. 

The ordinary fare of this little 
heron consists of minnows, frogs, 
snails, leeches, etc., but as the season 
advances, beetles and other insects, 
with their larve, are added. Dr. 
Lynds Jones tells of an eastern bird 
which he once saw stretched out flat 
on a slanting log at a point where 
it ran under water, and beneath 
which various kinds of minnows had 
found a congenial shelter. The bird 
was resting motionless, with its bill 
at the water’s edge, when suddenly 
it darted its head under water and 
withdrew a wriggling minnow. This 
it swallowed at once and then waited 
at ready as before. Sometimes a 
quarter of an hour would pass before 
the next fish, silly or forgetful, would 
venture too near the waiting spear. 
The heron returned to his lowly 
station daily, and watched with the 
patience of an Eskimo until the 
hole was fished out. Se a ce 

The willow groves which flank 17%” %™ Sa Barbara 

A NODE OF FLIGHT 
streams or cover Swampy bottoms are ANTHONY GREEN HERON FLUSHING FROM THE ESTERO 
favorite places of resort for nest build- 
ing. In default of these, however, the birds will resort to oaks or even fir 
saplings. The nest is a shallow but substantial platform built up with 
dead twigs or sticks of a nearly uniform size and lodged securely upon 
spreading branches. There is no suspicion of a lining, and the four or 


1909 


= 3 Se 


Photo by the Author 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


five handsome eggs, of the well-known 
heron-blue type, may sometimes be 
glimpsed from below. ‘“‘Finders is hav- 
ers,’ where the odlogist is concerned with 
this comparatively rare breeding species, 
although you might suppose that a pair 
laying in an old crow’s nest (May 12, 
1910) would have escaped the attention 
of even such an astute collector as Sydney 
Peyton.! 

_ The parent birds are very solicitous 
for their eggs and young, and employ, 
in their efforts to discourage investigation, 
an exceedingly low type of Dutch. Be- 
sides disgusting execrations, which are 
half hiss and half caw, the anxious bird 
cries snkowk, in a very loud voice, and 
flirts its wings and jerks its tail in a 
manner which would intimidate a smaller 
foe. 

A nestful of callow young is an inter- 
esting sight. At a signal from the old 
bird the youngsters pause and freeze with 
upturned beaks, looking like a tiny group 
of palisades done in bronze. They know, 
too, when to be silent; and one would not 
often discover them, save for the abun- 

A GHOSTLY WATCHER dance of whitewash which adorns the 

surrounding limbs and the ground below. 
If disturbed, they can clamber out of the nest and make off across the 
surrounding branches with great agility. 


No. 387 


Black-crowned Night Heron 


A. O. U. No. 202. Nycticorax nycticorax nzvius (Boddaert). 
Synonyms.—Quvua-BirD. QuAWwK. NIGHT SQUAWK. 


Description.— Adult in breeding plumage: Extreme forehead and line over eye 
white; entire underparts white,—pure on chin and throat, elsewhere delicately tinged 


1 Condor, Vol. XIII., p. 35. 


IQIO 


sourg soy 1vau uaye y, 


4oyin pf ayy dg ynojng puv IQNDBIN 


Spd Ul SISIN BUIAVIT SUOADFY JYSIN] PouMO.1I-yor[g 
ILOADY NY 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


with light ashy gray or lilaceous; crown, nape, and scapular-mantle (including back and 
interscapular region) lustrous greenish black; the occipital crest with several narrow, 
much-elongated, cylindrical, pure white plumes; remaining upperparts ashy- or smoky- 
gray; edge of wing white. Bill black; lores greenish; irides red; legs yellow. Immature: 
Above fuscous, with central stripes, or centro-terminal wedge-shaped spots of white 
and buffy; green-tinged on crown and back, or not, according to age; below and on 
sides of head and neck white heavily streaked with fuscous. Length 584.2-660.4 
(23.00-26.00); wing 317.5 (12.50); tail 120.6 (4.75); bill 76.2 (3.00); tarsus 83.8 (3.30) 
middle toe and claw 87.6 (3.45). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; greenish black crown and mantle of adult 
contrasting with ashy gray; general streakiness of young. 

Nesting.— Nest: In colonies, platform of sticks in trees, or of rushes bedded 
in reeds, or placed on ground of open marsh. Eggs: 2 to 5; elliptical ovate, variable 
in size, very light bluish green (pale glaucous green to pale fluorite green). Av. size 
53-5 X 47.2 (2.10 x 1.46); index 69.5. Season: April. 

Range of Nycticorax nycticorax.—Central and southern Eurasia, Africa, North 
and South America. 

Range of N. n. nevius——North and South America. Breeds from northern 
Washington, Saskatchewan, southern Manitoba, south to Patagonia; winters from 
central California and the Gulf States southward. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant summer resident in suitable localities 
throughout the State. Winters sparingly in the central valley and the San Diegan 
district. 

Authorities.—Baird ( Nyctiardea gardeni), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 1858, 
p- 678 (San Diego; Petaluma); Finley, Condor, vol. viii., 1906, p. 35, figs. (desc. of 
breeding colony near San Francisco; photos). 


Taken near Los Banos Photo by the Author 
LEAVING THEIR NESTS 


THE TULES ARE PART OF A TINY ISLAND GIVEN OVER TO THE BIRDS 


TQII 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


EVERY investigator of cat-tails, and ‘“‘tules,”’ those giant bulrushes 
of California, has been startled in his course, at some time or other, by 
the eruption of an unsuspected company of gray ghosts. They had 
marked his approach as they stood about in grave dignity, silent, motion- 
less, and disapproving; but their color had blended so well with that of 
the cover that the intruder blundered on, unmindful that he was invading 
precincts sacred to Nycticoracine slumbers. Wawrk, says the bird 
whose nerves give out first, and wawrk, wawrk, shout the others, now that 


\ Qe ee lk : 

i clas ia 3 Sees — 2 4 ae Ses < 

Taken near Los Banos Photo by the Autho 
AN INFANT MENACE 


THIS YOUNGSTER IN PIN-FEATHERS MEANS TO STAND HIS GROUND 


the spell is broken. The reeds boil herons and a confusion of gray wings 
smites the beholder, until the pouting company has reassembled at some 
distant point and readdressed itself to sleep. 

True to their name, the Black-crowned Night Herons fly and hunt 
chiefly by night. On this account and because of their throaty notes, 
they have ever been the objects of superstitious dread on the part of 
savages; and the sounds which they make are not exactly comforting to 
the ears of white men, save those of the hardened ornithologist. The 
well-known cry may sometimes be allowed to pass as quawk (never “‘qua’’), 


1912 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


but usually it is jerked out with 

emphasis or il-nature, waurk, or 

work. Harmless as the monosyl- 

lable may appear when uttered Pa 

singly, and when divested of its é, 

ghostly suggestiveness, the din 

raised by a heron rookery at full x 

juvenal tide is mighty and dis- 

cordant. SEB 

As the nesting season imposes o 
greater obligations upon the par- 
ents, they hunt by day as well as \ 
by night, being found sometimes 
singly but oftener in pairs, moving 
from place to place with laggard —— 
wings beating in stately synco- caf 
pation. 

This bird may often be seen 
to advantage about the unfre- 
quented lakes of San Joaquin Val- 
ley or in the lava country of the 
northern interior. Here it moves 
about sluggishly at the edge of a 
pool, or else, posting on a com- 
manding block of basalt, one will 
stand sentinel by the hour, head 
withdrawn between shoulders, like 
an adjutant in a great coat, un- 
observing (apparently), unmindful 
of the passage of time, a somber 
gray figure which embodies better 
than anything else the dear deso- 
lation of the wilderness. 

Nesting is strictly a social 
affair. A colony comprising any- j Be we «x. . 
where from a score to a thousand Taken at Los Banos Photo by the Author 
individuals will bed down together OED MODES 
in the rushes which line a group of tide-guts in the San Mateo marshes, 
or they will occupy a tule island at Los Bafios, or they will, with as easy 
grace, take to the treetops. A thriving colony has for years nested in 
the shade trees,—mingled live oaks, cypresses and eucalypti,—of the 
Cohen place in Alameda. Electric cars roar by within a block, but your 


I9IS 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


Night Heron is a sound sleep- 
er by day. Besides, given 
a convenient food 
supply, suitable cover, 
and absolute protec- 
tion, any bird 
will nest any- 
where. 

For partic- 
ular considera- 
tion a crowded 
half acre near 
Los Banos will 
do as well as any. 
One approach- 
ing in late May, 
through the 
waist-high wa- 
ters which guard 
the place, would 
hardly suspect 
from a casual heron or two the sleeping volcano ahead. Suddenly at 
fifty yards there is a salute—unmatched suitors, perhaps—then a volley— 
careless fathers—then another volley—timorous birds, whose homes are 
not completed yet, making agonized {)’s and M’s of flight—then, as we 
near the margin of the reeds an irruption ensues, a general exodus of 
both sexes and of all save the most devoted dispositions. After that the 
reeds continue to emit squawks in puffs and belches. Stately figures 
fit for Japanese screens alternate with frenzied mountebanks who have 
lost, under stress, the very last trace of dignity. 

Nests are at every level, from the top of the reeds above your head 
to those which have been caught and submerged by the rising water; 
nests built on the bent down reeds; nests caught midway of the stems; 
nests of every sort, flat, flimsy, unpretentious; nests rounded, bowl-shaped 
and substantial; nests of cat-tail leaves alone, laid flat-wise; nests of 
Kern greasewood stems; nests of long fine eucalyptus branches brought 
from far. Many nests are empty; pale blue eggs, three or four in num- 
ber, dotted with fine chalky pimples, lie in others; while a few hold 
wriggling young. 

A week later we shall see the youngsters to better advantage. As 
we approach the nest, the chicks will either cower and shiver or else freeze 
religiously until actually disturbed. Once the spell is broken, habit 


IQT4 


Photo by 
Finley and Bohlman 


YOUNG BLACK-CROWNED 
NIGHT HERON 


Humoresque 
Black-crowned Night Herons 
Negative and cutout by the Author 


Taken near Los Banos 


The Black-crowned Night Heron 


will divide evenly between those who will try to escape by scuttling 
through the reeds and those who will stay to fight it out. Of the former, 
many certainly come to grief; and from the number of drowned chicks [| 
have seen, I judge that the old birds have no wit to retrieve their young- 
sters once they leave the nest. Yet I saw one bantling which went souse! 


= Taken in Riverside County 
Photo by the Author 


A DISMAL HAUNT 


THE VIEW IS THAT OF THE SALTON 
SEA OF IQI3 


into the water and scrambled out again by clambering up the reeds. Not 
only were his great toes wrapped about the plant-stems, but he seized 
them with his bill as well, parrot-fashion. 

From those which stay to fight we shall hear a rattling or clucking 
Rail-like noise, delivered with menacing gestures. Two young rascals, 
one of whom is depicted on p. 1912, each about the size of a cocoanut, made 
as though to eat us alive. With open beak, and fauces which really did 
look terrifying to a degree, they parried and lunged with the valor of 
Spartans. Between thrusts the muscles of the throat quivered and 
vibrated spasmodically, precisely as in the case of young cormorants. 
This behavior character is, in fact, a common ancestral inheritance of 
the Steganopodes and Herodiones. 

These particular warriors were certainly uglier than the law ought 
to allow. Potbellies and flippers are common juvenal characters, but 
the heads of these infants were covered with a twisty, scattering, long, 


TOTS, 


The American Bittern 


white down which made them look like young furies. Their yellow eyes 
flashed fire, and they breathed defiance from the tips of their gray-green 
beaks to the tips of their pale green toes. Poor little tads! I suppose 
they were really scared half to death. 


No. 388 


American Bittern 


A. O. U. No. 190. Botaurus lentiginosus (Montagu). 

Synonyms.—Boc-BULL. STAKE-DRIVER. THUNDER-PUMP. INDIAN HEN. 

Description.—Adult: General color ochraceous or ochraceous-buff; darker, 
brownish, on back, the crown and upper back washed with blackish, the neck obscurely 
streaked with buffy and brown; the back and wings finely mottled, brownish, fuscous 
and ochraceous, becoming grayer marginally on wing-coverts; wing-quills and their 
coverts slaty; inner primaries and the secondaries tipped with ochraceous-rufous; a 
glossy, black or blackish stripe on side of neck anteriorly, continued to bill by indistinct, 
brownish line; chin and upper throat white; belly and crissum unmarked buffy; remain- 
ing underparts buffy or whitish, marked with large stripes of mottled ochraceous and 
dusky. Bill brownish black on ridge of culmen, pale yellow on sides and below; feet 
and legs yellowish green. Very variable in size. Length 584.2-863.6 (23.00-34.00) ; 
wing 282.7 (11.13); tail 110.5 (4.35); bill 82.5 (3.25); tarsus 91.4 (3.60); middle toe and 
claw 101.1 (3.98). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; ochraceous coloration; heavily streaked 
below; secretive swamp-loving ways; heavy flight; ‘pumping’? and “‘stake-driving”’ 
notes. 

Nesting.— Nest: A platform of grasses or rushes placed on ground in meadow 
or marsh, or lashed midway of reeds. Eggs: 4 or 5; ovate; cafe au lait, deep yellowish 
olive-buff, or grayish isabella color. Av. size 48.3 x 36.6 (1.90 x 1.44). Season: 
Apr. 15-May; one brood. 

General Range.—North America. Breeds from British Columbia, southern 
Mackenzie, southern Ungava, and Newfoundland south to southern California, Kansas, 
the Ohio Valley, and North Carolina, and occasionally the Southern States; winters 
from Virginia, the Ohio Valley, and the western border states south to Cuba and 
Central America. Casual in Great Britain. 

Distribution in California.—Common resident in suitable localities practically 
throughout the State. Winters commonly except on the northeastern plateau— 
numbers probably augmented from the North at this season. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Botaurus minor), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 222 (Los Angeles); Robertson, Bull. Cooper Orn. Club, vol. i., 1899, p. 94 
(Alamitos; desc. nest and eggs); Chapin, Auk, vol. xxxix., 1922, p. 196 (booming; anat.). 


I WILL make it a possession for the bittern and pools of water, 
saith the Lord (Isaiah 14:11, A. V.). Nothing presents to the average 
mind a more vivid picture of desolation than a waste of swampy waters. 


T9IO 


Medusa 
A Baby Bittern on Nest 
Negative and cutout by the Author 


Taken near Los Banos 


The American Bittern 


It is ‘‘miasmatic,’’ repulsive, and, above all, useless. And the bittern, 
who dwells there, has become the very symbol of desolation. Doubtless, 
the prophet had first descried the bird at rest, with his head drawn in, 
his plumage relaxed and drooping, like a rudely thatched roof, and he 
himself looking not unlike a deserted hut, fit emblem of the melancholy 
morass. But if the prophet’s observation stopped there, he missed 
knowing one of the oddest, weirdest, most elusive, and most versatile of 
all the feathered kind. 

The Bittern has no desire to become famous. When suddenly 
flushed, the bird makes off with a low, frightened qguawk on heavy, noise- 
less wings; but if he has a moment’s warning and the ghost of a show at 
concealment, our bird stretches instead to an enormous height, holding 
the long bill vertically, and becomes rigid. Instead of a bulky fowl, he 
has become, to all intents and appearances, a slender reed-clump; and it 
requires the closest scrutiny to distinguish the bird with his streaky 
yellows and greens and browns, even after he has been pointed out. 
Indeed, one careful observer! relates how a bittern, caught in a sparse 
cover of cat-tails, was seen to sway to and fro in rhythmical obedience to a 
breeze which agitated his vegetable brethren. When the wind subsided 
the bird stopped, and when it freshened he resumed. Surely the simu- 
lative art could go no further. Even in the open, the bird will pose as 
a stake or a weed, and often quite successfully, relaxing or flying only 
when the danger has passed by. 

This curious fowl is most at home in the weedy fastnesses of the 
swamp. Here he skulks or feeds by day; but as twilight approaches he 
becomes much more active, and stirs about among the reeds hunting 
snails and the larve of aquatic insects; or else he wades with deliberate 
step into the more open places in search of frogs, crayfish, and minnows. 
If the fishing is poor, he may venture up into the meadows in search of 
mice or moles. The bird takes foolish chances, and specimens are still 
brought into town by youthful hunters who persist in shooting strange 
creatures at sight—for no better reason than that they are strange. For 
all that the Bittern is so large to appearance, it is a light-weight, a mere 
mass of skin and feathers, not so heavy as some ducks. A light charge 
of fine shot will bring it down; but if it is only wounded, beware of that 
sharp beak, which shoots out like lightning and strikes the eye of dog 
or master with deadly precision. 

It is not, however, upon his beauty nor upon his weight that the 
Bittern’s reputation rests, but upon his wonderful voice. The moonlight 
serenade which this ardent lover accords his mistress is one of the most 
outlandish performances in nature. Take an air-tight hogshead and 


1Professor W. B. Barrows, of the Michigan State Agricultural College: Auk, Vol. XXX., Apr., 1913, pp. 187-190. 


I917 


The American Bittern 


2 sg a fhe 
ee Ree pee} 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
AMERICAN BITTERN. FREEZING 


The birds also indulge in 
another note not less strange, but 
somewhat less startling,—that of a 
stake smitten by a hammer. 
Whack -a - whack, whack - a - whack, 
goes the bird, and the dullest imag- 
ination can picture the stake sink- 
ing deeper into the mud with every 
stroke. 

Another curious custom of the 
courting season has only recently 


1918 


immerse it suddenly in water with 
the bung-hole down; then allow 
the air to escape in great gurgles, 
say a caskful at a time, and you 
will get but a faint idea of the 
terrifying, earth-shaking power of 
the ‘‘Thunder-pump’”’ at close 
range. Umph-ta-googh, umph-ta- 
googh, groans this absurd wooer, 
and the swamp quakes with appre- 
hension. The case is serious, for 
the bird accompanies the cry with 
a motion which suggests the miser- 
ies of the Scriptural whale, and 
each successive Jonah has a long 
way to go before reaching fresh 
air. Maria likes the noise, of 
course, and—well, love zs like sea- 
sickness, at certain stages. 


Taken near Santa Barbara 


Photo by the Author 
PREPARING TO SNEAK AWAY 


The American Bittern 


been brought to light.1. It seems that the male Bittern has as part of 
his nuptial equipment a patch of long downy white feathers on each side 
of the breast. These are ordinarily quite concealed by the surrounding 
plumage, and especially by the covering wings; but under special excite- 
ment, perhaps only that occasioned by a rival’s presence, they are elevated 
and shifted until they appear in the form of conspicuous ruffs, each as 
large as a man’s hand, over the bird’s shoulders. On such occasions 
the birds crouch low upon the ground looking more like big partridges 
than herons, and parade about over the short grass by the hour, in an 
effort to intimidate, or at least to outshine, their foes. 

Although Botaurus has been known to mankind ever since Pithecan- 
thropus learned to pick his teeth with the splint-bone of an Eohippus, 
nobody happened to mention this interesting nuptial performance of the 
Bittern, nor even to profess knowledge of the existence of such a remark- 
able outfit for “‘making medicine,” until the year of grace 911. And this 
knowledge came to light, in a suburb of Boston, merely because an ob- 
server got busy with an every day (or every spring) opportunity. Let 
not the youthful Alexander (Wilson or Johnson or Davidson) sigh for 
more (ornithological) worlds to conquer, whether in Tibet, or Timbuctoo, 
until he has mastered the secrets of Grass Valley or the San Diego marshes. 

The Bittern makes its nest either upon the dry ground adjacent 
to some swamp, or in the reeds themselves. In the former case, a care- 
less lining of dried grasses and weed-stalks, or a few bits of dried cowdung, 
is provided. In the latter, the broken-down stems of surrounding sedges 
or the matted leaves of last year’s cat-tails must suffice to keep the eggs 
out of the water. 

Baby Bitterns wear their hair pompadour, and they possess an abun- 
dance of this light yellowish brown covering, substantially uniform 
throughout. Their bills are light yellow, and their legs are light greenish 
yellow; so that a chick of this description may be easily overlooked among 
the reeds. Half-grown birds do rely upon their protective coloration, and 
adopt the freezing tactics of their fathers with eminent success; but 
baby birds are under the older ancestral spell (the true Ciconiiform tra- 
dition) which bids them endeavor to intimidate their foes. Chicks three 
or four days old, therefore, will bridle and hiss and strike and make great 
pretense of swallowing you, as they would a coveted morsel. So earnest are 
these enfants terribles that their fauces quiver convulsively, and you 
thank your lucky stars that Bittern babies are smaller than Pterodactyls 
or Pteronodonts, or whatever antedeluvian monster it was that started 
this swallowing habit. It is a pathetic bluff, now, but once upon a time 
it must have been deadly earnest. 


1See especially ‘‘ Nuptial Plumes of Bitterns’’ by William Brewster: Auk, Vol. XXVIII., Jan., 1911, pp. 90-100. 


I9I9 


The Least Bittern 


No. 389 


Least Bittern 


A. O. U. No. 191. Ixobrychus exilis exilis (Gmelin). 

Description.—Adulit male: Top of head, back, scapulars, and tail shining 
black with faint greenish reflections; sides of head and neck pale rufous, deepening 
on back of neck to rich chestnut; wing-coverts, bordering the black, brownish buff; 
the greater coverts and tertials broadly tipped with chestnut-rufous, and the inner 
primaries and secondaries narrowly; underparts whitish, clearest on chin and sides of 
throat and lower belly, streaked with buffy on throat, fore-neck, chest, and flanks; 
dark brown patches on sides of breast, sometimes almost meeting in front. Bill pale 
yellow, blackening on culmen; iris yellow; legs greenish in front, yellow behind; toes 
yellow. Adult female: Similar, but dark brown rather than black on top of head; 
black of back entirely replaced by glossy rufous-brown, the scapulars margined on 
outer edge with white; buffy flank-streaks with sharp, blackish shaft-lines, etc. Imma- 
ture male: Similar to adult, but back and scapulars washed with rufous, and feathers 
chestnut-tipped. Immature female: Like adult female, but feathers of back and 
scapulars bordered with ochraceous, etc. Length 304.8-355.6 (12.00-14.00); wing 
116.8 (4.60); tail 40.6 (1.60); bill 44.5 (1.75); tarsus 40.6 (1.60); middle toe and claw 
41.9 (1.65). 

Recognition Marks.—Little hawk size; black or dark brown and rufous coloring 
above; slender form; marsh-skulking habits. 

Nesting.— Nest: A raised and slightly hollowed platform of dead cattail 
leaves, etc., surrounded by water or mud of swamp. Fggs: 3 to 5, rarely 6; pale 
bluish- or greenish-white (often fading to white in collections). Av. size 30.6 x 22.9 
(1.20 x .90). 

Range of Jxobrychus exilis—Temperate North America, Middle America, and 
northern South America. 

Range of J. e. exilis—As above except Colombia [J. e. bogotensis (Chapman)]- 
Breeds from southern Oregon and southern tier of Canadian Provinces east from Sas- 
katchewan south to West Indies and Brazil (A. O. U. Com.). Winters from the Gulf 
States southward. 

Distribution in California.— Not common summer resident in the San Diegan 
district and north through the central valley. Breeding stations are Stockton (Bel- 
ding), Los Banos (Dawson), Los Angeles County (Grinnell), San Jacinto Lake (Willett 
and Jay), and Escondido (Sharp). 

Authorities.—Vigors (Ardea exilis), Zool. Voy. ‘“‘Blossom,’’ 1839, p. 27 (San 
Francisco); Sharp, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 94 (San Luis Rey, San Diego Co.; nesting); 
Willett and Jay, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, p. 159, fig. (desc. and photo of nest and eggs; 
San Jacinto Lake). 


ONE IS TEMPTED to apply the word awkward to this bird, as he 
is ordinarily noted in daylight. See him as he springs up suddenly from 
your feet in the cat-tail tangle—the flapping wings, the straightening 
neck, the legs clumsily dangled until the bird’s balance is gained, the 
noisy plash with which he settles into the reeds again—all this seems 


7920 


The Least Bittern 


awkward enough. Or if you persist in dashing after the stranger, having 
noted his exact whereabouts, see him as he stretches to an incredible 
length, and stiffens to the semblance of a reed-stalk,—slender, immoy- 
able, the very counterpart of any of his sere and lifeless companions. 
In this position, if you avoid betraying your recognition by a too knowing 
gaze at the bird’s eye, you may even get close enough to seize him in 


a 


Taken at Los Banos Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF LEAST BITTERN 


the hands. The bird apparently realizes what a sorry figure he cuts on 
the wing, and flies only as a last resort. Even when he wants to make 
a reconnaissance, instead of taking a turn a-wing, he climbs carefully 
up some upright stalk, wren-fashion, and squints furtively over the tops 
of the reeds. ; 

Amused criticism, however, turns to admiration when we note the 
marvelous dexterity with which the bird threads the lawless mazes of a 
cat-tail swamp. Now plashing softly through a shallow, now scrambling 
nimbly over opposing vegetation, he can soon quit dangerous territory if 
he will. 

But the Least Bittern is a bird of the night. When evening falls, he 


TQ2T 


The Wood Ibis 


goes to his accustomed hunting-ground with strong, sure flight. These 
birds do not often wait for the game to come to them, as is the habit of that 
patient fisherman, the Great Blue Heron, but they move about with 
lowered head and outstretched neck, industriously searching for slugs, 
frogs, tadpoles, beetles, and their kin. Even field mice are sometimes 
caught by a rapid run and a flashing stroke. 

These little Bitterns are not guilty of any such outlandish noises as 
those produced by the ‘“‘bog bull.’” Their only notes are a low qua, when 
flushed or frightened; or a short, hoarse croak of greeting or inquiry; and 
during the breeding season a subdued and labored coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, 
which proceeds, without doubt, from the male bird. 

They do not nest in colonies exactly, but a favorable stretch of tules or 
cat-tails is likely to contain several nests scattered about. We found three 
with three eggs each at Dos Palos on the 23rd of May, 1912, and three 
more near Los Banos, May 30, 1914. The nests are composed of cat-tail 
leaves laid flatwise, and are either built up out of the muck or shallow 
water to a height of a foot or more, or else lodged midway on the growing 
plants. In the latter case, the broken-down tops of the reeds are used asa 
basis, and the shallow platform thus formed is lined with green leaves and 
sedges, or even fine sticks. The eggs are almost equal-ended, and are of a 
delicate bluish white tint. The four eggs of one set which I examined 
were disposed in a straight row, as if accommodated to the narrow and 
elongated breast of the bird. According to Dr. Abbott, the youngsters 
when hatched are scantily covered with a pale buffy down, interspersed 
with white hairs as long as the bird itself. They are unusually active 
and vivacious, and learn to shift for themselves much sooner than the 
young of the tree-nesting herons. 


No. 390 


Wood Ibis 


A. O. U. No. 188. Mycteria americana (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—AMERICAN Woop STorK. ‘‘COLORADO TURKEY.” 

Description.—Adult: General color pure white; alula, wing-quills, primary- 
coverts, and tail black, with greenish luster; lining of wings pale rose-pink (in breeding 
plumage only); head and upper neck bald, the rough skin livid blue and yellowish. 
Bill dingy yellow; legs dull blue, blackening on toes, the partial webs yellow; iris brown. 
Young birds are dingy white, with tail and wings blackish, and the head is covered, 
except anteriorly, with sooty gray down-like feathers. Length of male up to 1143 
(45.00); wing 482.6 (19.00); tail 152.4 (6.00); bill 228.6 (9.00); tarsus 203.2 (8.00). 
Female smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Goose to giant size; black-and-white plumage, swamp- 
haunting habits, sailing flight, powerful beak, decurved near tip, distinctive. 


1922 


The Wood Ibis 


Nesting.— Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies; platform of sticks 
lined with moss placed in tops of bushes or high in trees. Eggs: 2 or 3; roughened, 
elongate ovate, or elliptical oval; white or, rarely, smeared with tawny olive or olive 
lake. Av. size 66.1 x 45.1 (2.60 x 1.77); index 68. Season: c. April 1st (Florida). 


General Range.—Warm temperate and tropical America from the western 
border states, the Ohio Valley (formerly), and South Carolina, south to Argentina and 
Uruguay. Casually north to Montana, Wisconsin, New York, and Vermont. 


Occurrence in California.—A summer visitor, of regular occurrence in the 
Colorado River Valley, irregular and rare in the San Diegan district, casually to San 
Francisco Bay, ‘“‘San Joaquin Valley’’ (Cooper), Fresno (Tyler), and Yermo, Mohave 
Desert,—all probably wanderers from the South at the close of the southern breeding 
season. 

Authorities.—Baird (Tantalus loculator), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. ix., 1858, 
p. 682 (Colo. R.); Cowes, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 513 (syn., desc., habits, 
etc.; Colo. R.); Law, Condor, vol. xiv., 1912, p. 41 (Long Beach, feeding habits, etc.); 
Cooke, U. S. Dept. Agric., Biol. Surv. Bull., no. 45, 1913, p. 22, map (distr. and migr.); 
Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, p. 266 (desc., occurrence, habits, 
etc.); Howell, Condor, vol. xxii., 1920, p. 75 (Imperial Valley, winter). 


OF THE GREAT family of Storks, rich in species, and so familiar 
to our Old World friends, there are only three representatives in the 
New World. These have their center of dispersion in South America. 
One, the Maguari Stork (Euxenura maguart), is confined to that conti- 
nent; the Jabiru (Jabiru mycteria) has occurred as far north as central 
Texas; while the third species, the Wood Ibis, has been long established 
as a resident in the Gulf States and in Mexico. This last-named species 
is not supposed to breed nearer our borders than some unknown point 
in western Mexico; but it indulges a propensity, common to several 
related families of the ‘‘stork-like birds,” of taking a summer vacation 
in the North at the close of the breeding season. It occurs, therefore, 
regularly in summer about the lagoons and overflow areas of the lower 
Colorado Valley, and adventures occasionally, wherever standing water 
is found, into southern California. A notable invasion of the Los Angeles 
sloughs occurred in the summer of Ig11, when as many as twenty-five 
birds were seen in a single flock. Dr. Cooper records their appearance 
at Saticoy in June, 1872, and 1873, and says:! ‘‘They doubtless breed 
in San Joaquin Valley [Erroneous, of course; Dr. Cooper was often very 
naive in his guesses as to breeding habits], as some are shot there every 
year. After leaving the nest the broods of young wander, and I have 
several times seen them flying at midday in wide circles high over 
San Francisco Bay. . . . One was shot some years since at San Leandro 
near Haywards, having incautiously lighted on a shade tree by the road- 
side; and these young birds always seem destitute of that natural fear of 
man so necessary to their safety.” 


1 Auk, Vol. IV., 1887, p. 90. 


1925, 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


In view of the present scarcity of this, the only American stork-like 
bird which reaches our borders, and of its very manifest dependence upon 
a southern dispersion center, it becomes of interest to note that bones of 
the Jabiru (J. mycteria) have been found in the Rancho La Brea beds near 
Los Angeles, and that this same fertile source furnishes specimens of an 
entirely new species, a true stork, Ciconta maltha Miller. 

The storks are rather stupid birds, perhaps because they are such 
gluttons. They are, however, shrewd enough in procuring food, if 
Audubon’s account be correct. He says that a large company of them 
will enter a shallow pool of water and stir up the mud by dancing about, 
until the frenzied fish, frogs, and young alligators, venturing too near the 
surface, are rapidly knocked on the head in turn by the birds’ powerful 
beaks, and there left to float until the drive is completed. Then the birds 
gorge themselves, and stand about the margin of the pond in sated rows 
while digestion wrestles with its task. Recent observers have not had 
opportunity to note these wholesale methods of slaughter. Mr. J. E. 
Law, who took a specimen at Dominguez Station, near Long Beach, 
found the bird standing knee-deep in muddy water, where it would insert 
its bill nearly to the eyes, and then, standing on one foot, would appear 
to be stirring up the water with the other. 

It was Audubon, too, who would account for the well-known habit 
which these birds have of mounting into the air and soaring about at great 
heights during the later hours of the morning, by calling it an aid to diges- 
tion—a sort of morning constitutional, necessary to well-fed burghers 
who would avoid gout. Whatever may induce these storks to play the 
buzzard for a time each day, they certainly present a pleasing and im- 
pressive spectacle, as, with plumage rendered striking by reason of its 
contrasting blacks and whites, they wheel aloft in majestic circles whose 
dizzy and distant mazes test the eyesight. 


No. 391 


White-faced Glossy Ibis 


A. O. U. No. 187. Plegadis guarauna (Linnezus). 
Synonyms.—‘‘WaTER TURKEY.’ SWAMP TURKEY. BLACK CURLEW. 


Description.—Adults: General color rich purplish chestnut, purest on neck, 
lesser wing-coverts, and underparts (except lining of wings and crissum), the purple 
lustrous and dominant on middle of back and tertials, heavily admixed with greenish 
black on tail-coverts both upper and under, showing violet reflections on crown, middle 
wing-coverts, axillars, etc.; remainder of wings, including quills and tail, shiny bronzy 


1924 


-. +.» In view of the present scarcity of this, the only American stork-like = 

bird which reaches our borders, and of its very manifest dependence upon 
a southern dispersion center, it hecomes of interest to note that bones of — 
the Jabiru (J. mycteria) nave been found in the Rancho La Brea beds near 
Los Angeles, and that this same fertile source furnishes specimens of an 
entirely new species, a true stork, Ciconia maltha Miller. 

The storks ere rather stupid birds, perhaps because they are such 
gluttons. They are, however, shrewd enough in procuring food, if 
Audubon's account be correct. He says that a large company of them 
will enter a shallow poo! of water and stir up the mud by dancing about, 
until the frenzied fish, frogs, and young alligators, venturing too near the 
suriace, are rapidly knocked on the head in turn by the birds’ powerful 

Ds ae peaks, and there left to foat unti! the drive is completed.. Then the birds 
ik pa gorge themselves, and stand about the margin of the pond in sated rows 
Wg while digestion wrestles with its task, Recent observers have not had 
"opportunity to note these wholesale methods of slaughter. Mr. aan eI 
Law. who tock a specimen, at Dominguez Station, near Long Beach, 
found the bird standing kne€-deep in muddy water, where it would insert 
its bill nearly to the eyes, aad then, standing on one foot, would appear 
to be stirring up the watgy with the other. 
It was Audubon, to§, who would account for the well-known habit 
| . which these birds have snide into the air and soaring about at great 
BE: heights during the later fduts @ the morning, by calling it an aid to diges-_ 
¥ A tion——a sort of morninggc&issitutional, necessary to well-fed burghers 


. who would avoid gout.- BVEaever may induce these storks to play the 
P buzzard for a time each®la®, they certainly present a pleasing and im- 
. pressive spectacle, as, wad bS>gimage rendered striking by reason of its 
5 ‘ contrasting blacks and Witessthey wheel aloft in majestic circles whose 
dizzy and distant mazesegesS fe eyesight. : 
} Ss 
Es Eta Was 
== " 
S No, 391 
3 
. Sr . 
. Whitefaced Glossy Ibis 
eee 4.0. U. No. 187. Plegadis guarauna (Linnzus). 
E Synenyme.—'‘Warer Tyrkry.” Swamp TURKEY. Biack CUuRLEW. 
; DHeacription.—Adulis: General color rich purplish chestnut, purest om neck, 


lesser wing-coverts, and underparts (except lining of wings and crissum), the purple 
lustrous and déminant on middle of back and tertials, heavily admixed with greenish 
black on tail-coverts both upper and under, showing violet reflections on crown, middle 
wing-coverts, axillars, ete.; remainder of wings, including quills and tail) shiny bronzy 


1924 


AON gg if 4y B61 Vie 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


green, golden green, and bottle green—surpassingly beautiful. Bill, curved downward, 
slaty blue, reddening on tip; irides blood-red; lores and eyelids naked, lake red,—this 
area and base of bill above and below surrounded by a narrow border of white feathers, 
the ‘‘face’’; feet and legs dark wine-purple. Immature: Chiefly sooty brown, finely 
streaked on head and neck all around with white, faintly lustrous on underparts, 
definitely bronzy greenish on wings (including lining), and back. The plumage is 
progressively invaded by lustrous purple, but the streaked head is the last youthful 
character to give way. ‘‘ Young, first plumage (with traces of down still): Remark- 
ably lustrous. Plumage entirely green; legs black; bill blackish, irregularly blotched 
or regularly banded with pinkish white.”’ Downy young: Uniform blackish, with 
whitish bill. Length of adult male: 558.8-609.6 (22.00-24.00). Ay. of 6 Calif. males: 
length (skins) 587 (23.10); wing 276 (10.90); bill 136 (5.36); tarsus 103 (4.06). Female 
smaller. 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size; dark plumage (appearing black at distance) 
distinctive for birds of this association; blackish bill, strongly decurved. 

Nesting.— Nests in colonies in reeds; composed of broken-down reeds attached 
to living ones; well built and deeply cupped. Eggs: 3 or 4; niagara green or light 
niagara green. Av. size 50.8 x 35.56 (2.00 x 1.40). Season: May. 

General Range.—Temperate and tropical America from southern Oregon, 
Arizona, Texas and Florida south to the Straits of Magellan. Breeds southward 
from the northern limits of its range, and has wandered to British Columbia, Wyoming, 
and Nebraska. 

Distribution in Californias—Common migrant practically throughout the 
State, except in the northwest coastal section; summer resident, breeding in suitable 
swampy areas, sometimes sporadically, as at San Jacinto (Mystic) Lake, in Riverside 
County, regularly in the flooded areas tributary to Los Bafios, formerly at least near 
Los Angeles, and at Escondido. Less common record stations of occurrence are Lower 
Klamath Lake (Bryant), Goose Lake, June 10, 1912 (Author), Bishop, Inyo County, 
May 21, 1919 (Author). Winters casually in the San Diegan district and even to Los 
Banos (Grinnell) and Stockton (Belding). 

Authorities.—Gambel (Falcinellus cayanensis), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
ser. 2, 1., 1849, p. 223 (Los Angeles); Chapman, Camps and Cruises of an Ornithologist, 
1908, p. 292 (Los Bafios, habits); Willett and Jay, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, p. 159, figs. 
(San Jacinto Lake, desc. nest and eggs, etc.); Dawson, Condor, vol. xvi., 1914, p. 8, 
figs. (Santa Barbara; actions). 


Taken at Sandyland From a gum tissue print 
by Fedora E. D. Brown 
AN EGYPTIAN FRIEZE Negative by the Author 


1925 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


Taken on Laguna Blanca Photo by the Author 
A DISTANT VIEW 


THE NAME “water turkey”’ has been preémpted by the Anhinga 
(Anhinga anhinga), but there is no law to prevent our likening the rich 
bronzes of this bird’s plumage to that of our barnyard favorite, the tur- 
key. The sportsman, deceived by the appearance of size and by the de- 
curved beak, has called him Black Curlew, and has added him piously and 
numerously to an already overweighted bag. But the bird is not black, 
only rich bronzy and chestnut; it is not a Curlew—not within a thousand 
miles; it is not a game-bird, for it is decidedly un-kosher. The joke, then, 
has been upon Californians, who alone of all flesh-eating mortals have ever 
rated this long-billed, worm-eating, shag-on-stilts as “‘game.”’ 

The Glossy Ibis should be regarded solely as a work of art, a decora- 
tive motif in bronze, made animate by the Artist Supreme and loaned to us 
for the ornamentation of wayside pools, low horizons, and interminable 
swamps. The Egyptians felt this decorative appeal, and by way of heading 
off the sacrileges of hunger, made a god of the bird and declared its flesh 
taboo. Ibis religiosa received abundant honors at the hands of the Egyp- 
tians; but art would have been the gainer if the task of immortalizing the 
bird had fallen to the Japanese instead. Surely those masters of art could 
have cast the birds in a bronze more enduring than their own! 


1920 


Inattentive 
White-faced Glossy Ibises at Laguna Blanca 


, by W. L. Dawson 


opyright, 1913 


C 


Negative and cutout by the Author 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


Damn your guns anyhow! From arquebuses to Big Berthas they 
have left an unbroken record of desolation. ‘‘Arms’’ they are, indeed, ex- 
tensions of the human arms, but only energized extensions of lust and 
malice and cruelty; and these had weapons enough before. At their best, 
and plied in defense of loved ones, guns have only invited counter-blasts as 
baleful. At their worst, and normally, they have been instruments of 
ruthlessness which have left the world forever impoverished. Where are 


ee d 


a cree i OF pres S: SS 
Taken on Laguna Blanca Photo by the Author 
PREOCCUPATION 


the Passenger Pigeons? Ask the guns. Where are the Heath Hens and the 
Carolina Paroquets and the Eskimo Curlews and the Whooping Cranes 
and the Trumpeter Swans? Guns! Guns!! Guns!!! Damn the guns! 

The first vision of Ibises the author ever had was during the spring 
migrations at Santa Barbara. A dip in the road, where the tongue of an 
estero crossed, was suddenly lighted up by a burst of black forms,—a 
flock of land-locked cormorants, I thought momentarily. But the ‘“‘shags’’ 
were too graceful by half as they breasted the strong wind; and as they 
hovered questingly, in exquisite syncopation of flight, my recovering 
senses grasped the significance of wine-red reflections. White-faced 
Glossy Ibises! What splendid birds they are! A score of them, a very 


1927 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


vision of the elder day; 
whereas all modernity is 
one gibbering sparrow! 
I stopped the motor in- 
stantly; and, reassured, 
the Ibises settled back 
into the wet grass, and 
resumed immediately 
their search for food. 
Here, again, they seemed 
the very embodiments 
of grace, as they turned 
and twisted, or probed 
for insects in the soft 
mud, or reared their sin- 
uous necks for a moment 
of inspection. And what 
marvels of color! reds 
and greens and purples, 
which resolve into black 
withd istance. ‘‘More, 
anon, you beauties; I’ll 
track you to your haunts! 
Just now my plates are 
gone; the wind is blow- 
ing a gale; and the motor 
is urging homeward. — I 
will leave you to your 
wayside fare.”’ 

Ah, well, I have seen 
them since, hundreds of 
them—not thousands, as 
formerly—in migrations, 
or ranging over their 
characteristic haunts in 
the flooded sections of 
Los Banos. The birds 
breed annually some- 
where within a radius 
of twenty miles of the 
town of Dos Palos; but 


Taken on Laguna Blanca Photo by the Author = it] 
Es 10n 
TUT-ANKH-AMEN MOTIFS es the flood condit ons 


7928 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


are never twice alike, the 
colony shifts from year 
to year, and | have not 
been so fortunate as to 
find it in three trials. The 
birds are said to build in 
loose colonial fashion, sev- 
eral hundred pairs in an 
area of forty acres, select- 
ing for the purpose the 
least accessible mazes of 
the “‘tule” or giant Scirpus. 
The nests are merely plat- 
forms of broken-down tules, 
augmented, or not, with 
some interlacing of loose 
stems. The eggs, three or 
four in number, are of a 
rich dark bluish green, 
quite the handsomest in 
the entire Heron order. 
Their distinctness of type 
probably entitles the own- 
ers to separate family rank, 
the Plegadide. Indeed, 
viewed oGdlogically, the 
Spoonbills, family Platale- 
id@, stand in nearer rela- - 
tionship to the Jbidide piace aan ee ake 
proper than do either to 

the Plegadide, the Bronze Ibises. 

The chief interest of the nesting region attaches to the appearance and 
spectacular flight of the wide-ranging groups of foraging birds. Pairs 
or squads or small platoons are likely to be flushed anywhere within ten 
miles of the central rookery. At such times the self-conscious birds vault 
into the air with startled cries, not unlike the grunting of pigs, moztk, or 
oigh, oigh. A flying company, coming upon observers in ambush, will 
flinch or corkscrew most picturesquely (not to say pathetically) each for 
himself. But left to themselves, they fall into line behind some trusted 
leader, and move off at a very businesslike pace. In my opinion few sights 
in the marshes equal the vision of a passing company of Bronze I[bises, 
timid mementoes of the elder magnificence. 


A STUDY IN BRONZE 


1929 


Photo by the Author 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


In order to explain the accompanying photos, which represent a 
rather unusual opportunity, I venture to quote quite literally from my 
notebook: ‘“‘White-faced Glossy Ibis. Laguna Blanca. Sept. 4, 1913. 
If this be a dream, do not wake me. A few times before I have said that, 


Taken on Laguna Blanca Photo by the Author 
THE SOLEMN ORDEAL OF A BATH 2 


in a thrilling hour of bird photography, but never, save with the Surf 
Birds, more fervently than today. But I am spoiling my story. 

“As Will and I were rolling around Laguna Blanca in the auto, I 
spied a flock of five White-faced Glossy Ibises, evidently recently dis- 
turbed, and now flying about the lake. They passed near us in a graceful 
line, but scouted out the country very thoroughly before they finally 
lighted on the shore near the boat-landing. I rigged up the camera and 
hurried over, frightening as I did so some ducks, a few Anthony Herons, 
and finally a Great Blue Heron. With or because of the last-named, a 
dozen Ibises rose and probably left the lake, but they were not my five. 
These I presently surprised while they were still at rest, but they sprang 


7930 


Egyptienne 
From agum bromide print by Fedora E. D. Brown 


Negative and cutout by the Author 


Taken near Santa Barbara 


The White-faced Glossy Ibis 


into the air before I could level on them. They circled over the lake in 
rapid, graceful flight, passing several times within easy range of the 
camera. I retired speedily to the machine, but the Ibises were thoroughly 
aroused, and rose higher and higher and flew in ever wider circles. Several 
times they pitched down a hundred feet or so on a sudden impulse, but as 
surely took fresh alarm. Seeing they were likely to desert the locality 
as their fellows had done, I started the machine and drove a half mile or 
so away from the lake. This ruse availed, for on returning and sweeping 
around the lake boulevard, we found them knee-deep in water and forty 
feet offshore in a gloriously open place. 

“Passing by as though unheeding, I soon returned prepared, stopped 
the machine suddenly, then swung on them instantly at 150 feet. They 
leaped from the water at the sound of the shutter, but settled back almost 
in their tracks. Again the shutter roared, and again they leaped clear 
of the water. Our machine was not only in the dead open, but it was 
perched on the skyline a dozen feet above the birds. 

“Then, although it seemed a perfectly desperate undertaking, I 
loaded my pouch with plate-holders and set out to stalk the birds directly. 
Since there was absolutely no intervening cover, I did not even bother 
to crouch, but I did approach very slowly. Ever and anon I ‘shot,’ 
and always the quarry started; but they did not leap from the water, nor 
did they attempt to pull away. By the time I had cut the distance in 
two, I had used up my relay of plates and returned for more. I determined 
to save up for close shots, but such opportunities are over-tempting. The 
last plate went when I was within nine steps of the water’s edge and still 
50 feet distant from the birds. It was the last I had, so by way of bravado, 
I crept to the water’s edge, within 35 feet. The birds regarded me with 
mild curiosity, or pecked at flies, or dozed. Once, when I was nearly 
back to the machine, another passing auto frightened the birds so that 
they took a turn around the pond; but they soon returned to the same 
spot. Although it was a well nigh hopeless undertaking, we motored 
back to the house three miles away, reloaded two dozen plate-holders, 
and returned to the charge, just one hour later, 4 p. m. The blessed 
birds were there, asleep. I began on them where I had left off, namely 
at the water’s edge, but soon waded in ten feet nearer. The Ibises were 
alert now, but they did not retreat. Ever and again one of their num- 
ber gave vent to an uneasy trumpeting croak. I took care not to look 
at the birds, save through the camera, and even so I was too excited 
to look long. It was punch and roar and change. The birds now paid 
not the slightest heed to the noise, nor indeed to my professional motions. 
I had been adopted, and the tired birds resumed their nap. I returned 
now after ten shots to bring up all the plates I had. It was a glorious 


LQ3T 


The Roseate Spoon-bill 


sight at 25 feet. The birds got into most ungainly, graceful postures,— 
a crossed leg, an open beak, or a lifted wing; and as often as they broke 
the peace, I sprung the shutter. Finally, alas, I forced myself forward. 
Five steps it was to be; and at the fifth step, as I started to lift my head, 
there was a sudden soft brush of wings. I had passed the limit of for- 
bearance, and my long-suffering hosts had fled—fled this time in high 
dudgeon, for they rose and rose till at the height of half a mile they 
passed from sight seaward. But oh, it was heavenly while it lasted!” 


No. 392 


Roseate Spoon-bill 


A. O. U. No. 183. Ajaja ajaja (Linneus). 

Synonym.—FLaAMINGO (name based on rosy plumage and entirely erroneous). 

Description.—Adult: General color rosy red, paling to white on upper back 
and breast, definitely white on neck, intensifying to carmine on lower fore-neck, upper 
and under tail-coverts and lesser wing-coverts; shafts of wing-quills and rectrices 
carmine; patch on side of breast and webbing of tail dingy yellow. Head bare, the 
skin orange-yellow, greenish, and black; the bill likewise highly variegated; feet and 
legs lake red, the claws dusky; irides carmine. Immature birds have the head chiefly 
white-feathered and the body-plumage, basically white, is increasingly flushed with 
rosy with advancing age; border of wing extensively dusky, this color persisting last 
on tips of primaries. Length of male up to 889 (35.00); wing 400 (15.75); tail 120.6 
(4.75); bill 177.8 (7.00) or less, its spoon 57.15 (2.25) across; tarsus 107.95 (4.25). 
Female smaller—length up to 762 (30.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; rosy plumage, and beak broadly flattened 
at tip distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A frail platform of sticks, 
placed at moderate heights in bush or tree. Eggs: 3 or 4; elongate ovate or elliptical 
ovate; dull white or pale greenish, spotted and blotched with tawny olive or dresden 
brown, or washed and smeared with cream-buff. Av. size 68.85 x 44.45 (2.75 x I.75). 
Season: May 15-June 15. 

General Range.—Warm temperate North America and South America. Found 
from the Gulf States south to Patagonia; casually (or formerly) north to Pennsylvania, 
southern Indiana, Wisconsin, Kansas, Colorado, and California. 

Occurrence in California.—{No specimens extant, but status based on credit- 
able sight records.] A summer visitor wandering from the South at the close of the 
breeding season. Seen by Dr. Gambel on the coast as far as San Francisco in the 
summer of 1849. Seen by R. B. Herron near San Bernardino, June 20, 1903, and by 
H. E. Wilder at Riverside in 1902 (Stephens). 

Authorities.—Gambel (Platea mexicana), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 222 (Calif.); Stephens, Condor, vol. vi., 1904, p. 139 (San Bernardino and 
Riverside) ; Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer, Game Birds Calif., 1918, p. 262. 


~ a 


The Red-billed Tropic-bird 


THE WORD Flamingo has so impressed itself upon the popular 
attention that every big bird of a ruddy, not to say lurid, complexion, 
reported in from our extreme southeastern border, comes to us as a “‘sure 
enough Flamingo.”’ The Flamingo proper, which is chiefly confined to the 
coasts bordering upon middle American oceans, has little upon our friend, 
Ajaja, from the west coast of Mexico, either in beauty of plumage or in 
eccentricity of appearance, especially that of the beak; but when we re- 
call that Phenicopterus is also a lamellirostral grallator of the Order 
Odontogloss@, it is time for us to admit our presumption, and to beat a 
hasty retreat. Ja! Ja! Ajaja ajaja is nothing but a Spoonbill. 

If we could actually control our silly desire to kill something, there 
is no reason why these really splendid birds, which occasionally wander 
north from their breeding grounds near Guaymas, should not be led to 
accept our hospitality, and to establish themselves permanently in the 
Colorado Valley. But no; they are big and beautiful. Bang! Bang!! 


No. 393 
Red-billed Tropic-bird 


A. O. U. No. 112. Phaéthon ethereus (Linnzus). 
Synonyms.—CatTeEsBy’s TROPIC-BIRD. BoO’s’N-BIRD. MARLIN-SPIKE. 


Description.—Adult: ‘General color white; a black band bordering the sides 
of the head passes through the eye and terminates in a crescent-shaped mark above the 
gape; back and sides of the neck, back, rump, upper tail-coverts, scapulars, and most 
of the lesser and median wing-coverts barred with black; the five outermost primaries 
with the outer web and part of the inner web black, only the extreme tip being white; 
some apparently fully adult specimens have the third quill partially, and the fourth 
and fifth entirely margined on the outer web with white; the remaining primary quills 
with a black median stripe extending to within about an inch of the tip; outer primary 
coverts, innermost secondaries and their coverts mostly black margined with white; 
long flank-feathers with blotched grayish black bars; outer tail feathers with a few 
irregular black markings near the shaft; the upper surface of the shafts black, white at 
the extremity. Tail composed of 14 feathers. Iris black; tarsi and upper part of 
toes yellow, rest of toes and claws black; bill bright coral-red’’ (Ogilvie-Grant). Length 
762-914.4 (30.00-36.00), of which central pair of rectrices 355.6-457.2 (14.00-18.00) ; 
wing about 304.8 (12.00); bill 68 (2.50); tarsus 25.4 (1.00). 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A careless layer of grass or 
seaweed, placed in hole or cranny of cliff or on ground in shelter of bush, or, more 
rarely, in hollow tree. Egg: Single; white or pale vinaceous as to ground, heavily 
sprinkled or spotted or clouded with brownish red (Hessian brown to hematite red). 
Av. size 61 x 43 (2.40 x 1.69). Season: In general, throughout the year; but locally 
determined and constant. 


LOZ 


The Red-billed Tropic-bird 


General Range.—Seas and coasts of tropical America. Breeds in Lesser 
Antilles and from coast of Peru north to about Latitude 28°; ranges north regularly to 
Cape Colnett, Lower California; accidental in California and on Newfoundland Banks. 


Range in California.—Accidental in channel between Long Beach and Santa 
Catalina Island; one record: by Capt. W. H. Graves, August, 1916. 


Authorities.—W. E. Bryant, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, vol. ii., 1889, p. 86 
(a skull said to have been found on the coast of Marin Co.); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avi- 
fauna, no. II, 1915, p. 176 (in ‘Hypothetical List,” birds of Calif.); Law, Condor, vol. 
xxi., 1919, p. 88 (between Long Beach and Catalina Id., Aug., 1916, one spec.); Bent, 
U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 187, pls. (life hist.; desc. nest and eggs, etc.). 


ALL THINGS come to him who waits; and the watchers by the sea 
are those especially favored by rare sights. The shore-line is nature’s most 
ancient highway; and sooner or later every speed-king of the northern 
Tropics may be expected to take a turn up that enticing highway, at 
least as far as San Pedro. Witness the northern wanderings of the Elegant 
Tern and the Man-o’-war-bird; and now the Red-billed Tropic-bird. This 
last occurrence had been freely predicted by Anthony! and Grinnell,? for 
a previous record of farthest north had been made from Cape Colnett, 
Baja California, only 200 miles away. The circumstance of the capture 
of a specimen in August, 1916, by Captain W. H. Graves, of Long Beach, 
have been detailed by J. Eugene Law.? A solitary bird, perhaps the very 
one seen a day or so before, was shot, as it sailed overhead, from a pleasure 
launch in the channel about midway between Long Beach and Catalina 
Island. This was eventually made into a ‘‘stuffed’’ specimen, and graces 
(or did at last accounts) a south window of the Long Beach Chamber 
of Commerce. We mention ‘‘south’’ with invidious intent; because 
continued exposure to the sun bleaches dark plumage to a ghastly isabel- 
line hue. 

The Tropic-birds are, as their name implies, chiefly confined to the 
Tropic zone. They are more or less gregarious, especially at the breeding 
season. In appearance not unlike an exaggerated tern, they differ in 
having the central pair of tail-feathers excessively elongated—hence, the 
name ‘‘Marlin-spike”’ or ‘‘Bo’s’n-bird.”’ In their quest for food, which they 
obtain by plunging from the air, tern-fashion, the birds fare far out to sea, 
sometimes hundreds of miles. Their flight is powerful, but it has the 
appearance of being labored, because the wings are continually flapped, 
never held rigid for soaring and for rest, as in the case of that passed 
master of flight, the Man-o’-war-bird. This necessitates occasional rest 
upon the surface of the ocean; but if this is roughened by a storm, the 
buffeted birds are glad to take refuge on the masts or taffrails of passing 
eaamuprcc: Calif. Acad. Sci.,"2nd ser., II., p. 86. 


2 Pac. Coast Avifauna, No. 11, 1915, pp. 176, 177. 
3 Condor, Vol. XXI., March, rorg, p. 88. 


1934 


The Water Turkey 


ships. Their feet and legs are absurdly inadequate for progress on 
shore; and if obliged to walk they spread their wings and waddle about 
like cowboys in tight boots. 

The Red-billed Tropic-birds were studied by the Academy Expedi- 
tion to the Galapagos Islands in 1905-1906; and I cull the following 
paragraphs from the account of Mr. E. W. Gifford :! 

“Red-billed Tropic-birds could be recognized at almost any time 
by their cry, which is long and shrill and consists of a lot of short high 
rasping notes given in quick succession. Birds flying about the nesting 
place often gave it, and birds disturbed on the nest also gave it. The 
young when taken from the nest uttered the same cry; and I have even 
heard a young bird only a day or so old give three or four notes of it 
when handled. 

“The nesting places were usually holes in cliffs and hillsides in the 
vicinity of the sea. Asa rule the single egg was laid at the end of a short 
burrow; when such was the case no eggs or young were found. One bird 
which I disturbed on its nest was in a good light so that I could see it. 
It was sitting on its egg with wings drooping at its sides, feathers raised, 
and every feature showing rage at my intrusion.” 


No. 394 


Water Turkey 


A. O. U. No. 118. Anhinga anhinga (Linneus). 


Synonyms.—AMERICAN DARTER. BLack DARTER. AMERICAN ANHINGA. 
SNAKE-BIRD. 


Description.—Adult male: General color black; glossy greenish black on head, 
neck, and body; wings and tail duller; median and greater wing-coverts chiefly silver- 
gray; the lesser wing-coverts spotted, and the scapulars striped with silver-gray; tail 
broadly tipped with brownish buffy; the central pair of rectrices finely crinkled on 
outer webs. In breeding plumage the hind-neck boasts a mane of black feathers, 
bounded on either side by scattered filamentous plumes of purplish white or brownish 
ash. “‘In both sexes iris red, ranging from carmine to pink; bill yellow, with dusky 
greenish ridge and tip; bare skin about eyes lurid green; sac orange; feet dusky olive 
and yellow; webs yellow; claws blackish.”’ Adult female: Similar to adult male, but 
head and neck chiefly dull buffy mingled with darker (nearly dusky above), clearing 
on jugulum and breast to pure light buff; general body plumage black but silvery 
buff appearing as tiny spots; on upper back occupies central portions of elongated 
scapulars, subterminal portions of lesser wing-coverts, and entire exposed surface of 
greater coverts; tip of tail also brownish buffy, shading for an inch or so; line of junction 
between buff and black of breast, narrowly, auburn; central pair of tail-feathers finely 


1 Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., 4th Series, Vol. II., pt. I., 1913, p. 105. 


L935 


The Water Turkey 


crinkled on outer webs. Young birds somewhat resemble adult female, but are dull 
gray below and lack the silver-gray markings of scapulars, etc.; flight-feathers more 
or less margined with whitish toward tips; tail-feathers not crinkled. Length of 
adult about 914.4 (36.00); wing 345.4 (13.60); tail 265.5 (10.45); bill 34.3 (1.35); tarsus 
86.4 (3.40). 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size as to body, elongated neck with small head, 
“scarcely larger’’; silver-gray markings on scapulars, etc., distinctive; swamp-loving 
habits. 

Nesting.—Not known to breed in California, but probably does so. In colonies. 
Nest: A platform of sticks placed in bushes over swamp water or sluggish streams. 
Eggs: 3 to 5; light bluish green, overlaid with chalky accretion, not certainly distin- 
guishable from those of Cormorants, but averaging shorter. Av. size 54.6 x 34.3 
(2.15 x 1.35). Season: March-April; one brood. 

General Range.—Tropical and subtropical America, from the lower Colorado 
River (in Arizona, California, and Mexico), Texas, southern Illinois, and North Caro- 
lina, south to southeastern Brazil. 

Occurrence in California.—Observed by Allan Brooks and the author above 
Laguna Dam, Potholes, Calif., Feb. 9 and 12, 1913. Probably of regular occurrence 
on the Colorado River up to that point. 

Authorities.—Brooks, Condor, vol. xv., 1913, p. 182 (Calif. side of Colo. 
R. at Potholes, Imperial Co.); Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 229, pls. 
(life hist.; desc. nest and eggs, etc.). 


WE CANNOT adduce a better proof of the variety of Californian 
bird-life than that furnished by the occurrence of this tropical or sub- 
tropical fowl on our southern border, in contrast, say, with the Sierra 
Nevada Rosy Finch, breeding at 14,000 feet on Mt. Whitney, or the 
Great Gray Owl in Siskiyou County. The Amazon is nearer the center 
of the Snake-bird’s distribution, but it follows the oozy depths of sun- 
warmed waters into Florida and Texas, and latterly has made its appear- 
ance on the Colorado River, first on the Arizona side, at Yuma, in the 
winter of 1905-6, and then at Potholes, California, where it was recog- 
nized by Mr. Allan Brooks and the writer in February, 1913. 

The building of the Laguna Dam at Potholes has created slack water 
for several miles upstream; and here in the dying timber Egrets and Faral- 
lon Cormorants make their homes. Among the latter we descried first one 
and then two of the smaller and more nimble Snake-birds. In striking 
contrast with the ungainly Shags, they described small circles in the air 
with a quick flap, flap, flap, and sail; and when they lighted on some dead 
limb overhanging the water, they did so with easy assurance and grace. 

These Darters are among the most expert of fresh-water divers. When 
surprised they pitch head foremost into and under the water, leaving 
scarcely a ripple behind. If they reappear a hundred yards away, it is only 
to exhibit a snake-like neck surmounted by a head so compressed as 
scarcely to disturb the general scheme. Fish are secured by direct pursuit, 
and so easy is the game that the bird can afford to spend a good deal of 
time ashore, or rather a-stub, basking in the tropical sunshine. 


19306 


Farallon Cormorants, Adult and Young 
Note watchful Gull, the ubiquitous devil, in the offing 
From a photograph by the Author 


Taken on the Farallon Islands 


The Farallon Cormorant 


No. 395 


Farallon Cormorant 


A. O. U. No. 120c. Phalacrocorax auritus albociliatus Ridgway. 


Synonyms.—WESTERN DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT. CALIFORNIA COR- 
MORANT. SHAG. 


Description.—A dults in breeding plumage: General color glossy greenish black, 
the back and wings slaty brown, each feather bordered narrowly with greenish black; 
a tuft of narrow filamentous feathers on each side of crown over and behind eye, all 
black or all white or mixed black and white or wanting; tail of twelve feathers. Bill 
yellow, blackening on culmen; gular sac and lores orange-yellow; eyelids and lining 
of mouth lived blue; irides nile green; feet black. Adults in winter: Without crests; 
less glossy; and colors of soft parts paler. Young male (2nd year?): Head, neck, 
and forebreast grayish brown, lighter below and on sides; darker on crown and behind; 
remaining underparts, lower back, etc., rich dark brown; back and wings much as in 
adult; gular patch yellowish. Young female (2nd year?) and rst year birds of both 
sexes: Like preceding but still lighter; extensively brownish white below; back and 
wings hoary grayish brown bordered by lighter brown (on scapulars and wing-coverts) 
and brownish black. Length (av. of 10 California specimens from various localities) : 
778 (31.02); wing 332 (13.07); tail 160 (6.30); bill 58.8 (2.31); tarsus 66.9 (2.63). 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; black plumage; orange gular area best field 
mark for species, birds of the year appearing whitish below. 


Nesting.—In colonies. Nest: A bulky structure of weathered sticks, slightly 
hollowed and lined with bark, grass, or other soft materials; placed in trees (dead 
mesquite), or on ground in commanding position on islet. Eggs: 3 to 5, 7 of record; 
elliptical ovate or elongate ovate, pale bluish green, pale niagara green, overlaid 
wholly and smoothly or partially and roughly by white calcareous layer. Av. size 
62.5 x 41 (2.46 x 1.61); index 65.6. Season: c. February 1st (Salton Sea), March, 
April, May, according to latitude; one brood. 


Range of Phalacrocorax auritus——North America, breeding from southern 
Alaska, central Saskatchewan, southern Keewatin, and Newfoundland, south to 
Honduras and the Socorro Islands; retiring from northern portions of range in winter, 
in the East as far as North Carolina. ~ 


Range of P. a. albociliatus—The southwestern coastal district of the United 
States and Lower California. Breeds both coastwise and interiorly from Oregon and 
western Nevada through California to Cape San Lucas and the Socorro Islands. Re- 
tires from colder interior sections in winter. Casual (?) in Utah. 

Distribution in Californias—Common resident both coastwise and upon the 
larger lakes. Wanders freely up rivers and estuaries and appears at odd places upon 
smaller reservoirs and ponds. Numbers considerably augmented in winter below 
Point Conception. Definite breeding stations at Rhett Lake, Clear Lake (Lake Co.), 
Eagle Lake, Tulare Lake, Buena Vista Lake, and Salton Sea, and on the coasts of the 
Farallons, Seal Rocks (in 1912), Prince Islet (off San Miguel), Scorpion Harbor rocks, 
Santa Cruz Island, Anacapa Island, Santa Barbara Island, and Ship Rock near 
Santa Catalina. 


1937 


The Farallon Cormorant 


Authorities.—Gambel (Carbo dilophus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, p. 227 (Calif.); Ridgway, Proc. Biol. Soc. Wash., vol. ii., 1884, p. 94 (Phala- 
crocorax dilophus albociliatus, new subspecies; type locality, Farallon Ids.); Ray, 
Auk, vol. xxi., 1904, p. 436, pl. (Farallon Id., breeding; habits) ; Grinnell, Condor, vol. 
x., 1908, p. 185, figs. (Salton Sea; desc. of breeding colony); Howell, Pac. Coast Avi- 
fauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 37 (s. Calif. Ids.). 


LANDSMEN are slow to realize the fertility of the sea. Its great 
expanse is so little broken at the surface by the irruption of life that we 
cannot easily comprehend the vast and varied resources either of its 
depths or of its teeming shallows. The Gulls, the Gooneys, and the Man- 
o’-war-birds serve to heighten this superficial impression which we get of 
ocean’s scanty fare, for we find them traveling a league for a bite, and a 
day’s journey for a full meal. Not so, however, with the Cormorant. 
Here is a bird, the very symbol of voracity, built to seize and swallow and 
speedily digest. When we see him and know his ways, we realize the long- 
suffering of the great mother, and the boundless provision she has made 

for her hungry children. 
Cormorants of more than forty species range 


Taken on the 
Southeast Farallon 
Photo by the 


Author 


THE TYPE COLONY 
IT WAS FROM SPECIMENS TAKEN IN THIS ROOKERY THAT THE RACE, albociliatus, WAS DESCRIBED BY RIDGWAY 


1938 


The Farallon Cormorant 


Taken on the southeast Farallon Photo by the Author 
A BRAVE MOTHER 
THIS BROODING FEMALE “‘FARALLON’’ WAS PHOTOGRAPHED AT A RANGE OF 21% FEET 


along the hundred thousand leagues of earth’s shore-line, well distributed 
in all save Arctic and Antarctic waters; and they constitute the mightiest 
race of fishers ever known, save those born of the teeming waters them- 
selves. The piscatorial peculations of men are as a dot beside their 
unceasing pillage. One almost hesitates to admit what these ravages 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
A SHAGGY ROCK 


L939 


The Farallon Cormorant 


really are, for fear of drawing down the wrath of our Italian friends who 
have (upon what grounds I know not) arrogated to themselves the right 
to all the fishes which swim in the sea. But here is a concrete example 
from foreign waters. Mr. Howard W. Wright, visiting San Martir 
Island, off the coast of Lower California, in July, 1913, estimated its shag 
population (chiefly P. a. albociliatus) at 1,800,000, allowing three young 
to each pair of adults.1 
“We became very much 
interested in estimating 
the amount of fish these 
birds consumed per day. 
We noted the amount 
each young cormorant 
threw up when molested, 
and found on_ several 
occasions a bunch of fish 
as big as a man’s two 
fists. This mass was 
generally composed of 
surf-fish, smelt and sar- 
dines. [| have heard 
other estimates of from 
three to six sardines a 
day for a cormorant, so 
I consider a half pound 
of fish a day very con- 
servative [undoubtedly 
too conservative—a 
pound a day would be 
nearer right, would it 
not?]. Allowing half a 
Sears pound of fish a day for 
ERR NEA SS each of 1,800,000 birds, 
RM og — a the entire population 
Taken on Anacapa Island Phaio by Donald R. Dickey would consume about 
NEST AND EGGS OF FARALLON CORMORANT four hundred tons a day, 
or about ten thousand 
tonsa month! The fishing was done in San Quentin Bay exclusively, 
but in that bay and in Hassler’s Cove, on the island, fish were found 
very plentiful, and always hungry, showing that the birds do not 
seriously lessen the number of fish.” 


1 Reported by Mr. Wright in ‘‘The Condor,” Vol. XV., Noy., 1913, pp. 207-210. 


7940 


The Farallon Cormorant 


The name Shag, from the old 
Saxon sceacga, hair, undoubtedly 
refers to the crests, which are so 
characteristic a feature of many 
species of cormorants. It is difficult 
to believe, however, that the name 
would have become imbedded in the 
popular imagination if it had not had 
the support of the cormorant-crown- 
ed rocks and harbor buoys. The ser- 
rated appearance often presented by 
these familiar objects certainly re- 
minds one of a woolly dog’s coat, or 
the towsled head of a warrior, and 
is, therefore, for all time, shaggy. 

Speaking of crests, fashions are 
various; and in the case of the Faral- 
lon Cormorant, at least, very vari- 
able. Note the specifications above: 
“a tuft of narrow, filamentous feath- 
ers on each side of crown over and 
behind eye, all black, or all white, or 
mixed black-and-white, or wanting”’ 
—all the necessary latitude between 
hobble skirts (from which the good 
Lord deliver us) and hoop skirts 
(from which the good Lord has de- 
livered us). It is no discredit, there- | RU 
fore, to the brooding mother (shown Taken on the Farallons Photo by the Author 
om page 1939) that she has dis- THE MOST HANDSOMELY pte wae IN THE ENTIRE COLONY 
carded plumes; nor need we, on the 
other hand, begrudge to ‘“‘the bride,’”’ shown on this page, the beautiful, 
and rare, adornment of pure white “‘aigrettes.”’ It was surely some such 
rare example as this which led Newton, in speaking of P. graculus, to 
declare her “‘one of the most beautiful of sea birds.” 

Beauty, of a sort, this cormorant undoubtedly possesses. The 
bird’s eye is of a handsome blue-green (rather an unusual color among 
birds); and its hue both matches the ‘‘pipings’’ which border the loral 
areas and complements the rich orange of lores and gular spaces. When 
milady yawns one glimpses “‘linings”’ of livid blue. Moreover, in spite of 
the filthy surroundings of her nest, the shag is not uncleanly in personal 


IQ4I 


Taken on the Coast of Washington Photo by the Author 
YOUNG CORMORANTS 


THE BIRDS ARE WHITE-CRESTS (P. a. cincinnatus), NOT APPRECIABLY DIFFERENT FROM THE FARALLONS 
P. a. albociliatus) 


appearance, her sleek shininess being due in large measure, no doubt, to 
her frequent ablutions. 

Unlike the Baird Cormorant, which is nervous and flighty to a fault, 
the Farallon is a plain, home-loving body, very amiable if treated with 
reasonable consideration. Partly because of her more phlegmatic dis- 
position, and partly, no doubt, because most of her eggs have hatched 
by vacation time (which is as early as most of us get around to pay a 
visit to the sea-bird isles), it is often possible to get very close to brooding 
birds of this species. I have sat down on the very door-step (marble 
or merely whitewashed mattered not) of a shagine home and visited with 
the occupant to heart’s content. 

Farallon cormorants usually deposit their complement of eggs 
during the first week of May, and are, therefore, the earliest nesters of 
the three local species. The nests are usually built of sticks if these are 
available. In default of these, as on the Farallon Islands themselves, 
the birds pluck coarse weeds instead. There is no proper lining, but 
various soft substances, such as bark, moss, sea-weed, rags and feathers, 
are incorporated in the structure, which is usually placed in an exposed 
situation,—the crest of a ridge or the summit of a rock. 

A typical cormorant rookery is, of course, foul from every conceivable 
source. The nests and rocks are white with excrement, and with this the 
callow young are more or less besmeared. Then about the nests lie frag- 
ments of uneaten fish, and to these flies swarm in myriads. Add to the 
general raciness of odor an occasional overdone egg, and you have a fine 
unsavory mess of it. 


1942 


Vag UO}LG ay) UO ETGI UL UayL T, 
Loy py ayy vq ydvibopoud v uWlodiy 


uoleiodrad ysnoiyy posodxo 


Sulaq si ‘sivad XIS 10] passouiqns ‘3s9.10J ayinbsaw oy 


SJURIOULIO) UOT[VIey JO AUOTOD do}j-9917, V 


The Farallon Cormorant 


Young cormorants are perfectly helpless when hatched, and are, if 
possible, uglier than young magpies. Not only are they coal black and as 
naked as sin, but their heads are scarcely larger around than their long 
necks, and a nestful of them looks more like a bundle of young black- 
snakes than anything avian. The characteristic orange upon the gular 
area of the adult is reflected by a pale yellow, sharply contrasting with 
the posterior black, even in the very youngest specimens; while youngsters 
half or two-thirds grown are covered with a coarse black down. When 


Photo by the Author 


Taken near Mecca 
A POPULOUS COLONY 


THE HOST TREE IS A WATER-WORN MESQUITE NOW EMERGING AFTER THE GREAT FLOOD WHICH 
FILLED THE SALTON SINK 


disturbed at the nest the younglings quit their quarters and waddle off 
clumsily to the farthest nest of the immediate group, where they stand on 
the defensive a dozen or twenty strong. When brought to bay, and, of 
course, after they have disposed of the contents of their crops, no matter 
where, they thrust out the neck at the intruder and open the gullet, until 
it almost makes one dizzy to look down it, emitting the while a sound be- 
tween a hiss and a bark, intended no doubt to be frightful, but really only 
dismal or ridiculous. Most interesting, also, is the curious pulsating of 
the loose membranes of the throat during excitement or anger, or perhaps 


L943 


The Farallon Cormorant 


during activity of any kind. The pulsating movement is rapid and to 
appearance violent, and it is characteristic not only of this species but of 
the next as well. 

If the shags take heavy toll of the finny tribes, they pay fearful trib- 
ute, in turn, to their ruthless overlord, the Western Gull. From the 
time the first egg is laid, one or the other of the parents must mount 
guard incessantly to keep the marauder at bay. The gull is a coward 
and cannot stand up under well directed blows of the shag’s beak; but 
once let the owner’s attention be diverted, and the gull slips in to snatch 
an egg or a stripling youngster. Human intrusion is welcomed by the 
gull with loud acclaim, for in the great colony of shags many will flee 
in fear before the man. This is the gull’s opportunity, and he will gobble 


‘yY koe ca ie 


Taken on the Salton iSea Photo by the Author 
A GROUP OF NESTS 


the uncovered eggs in a trice, or return again and again till all the bant- 
lings are appropriated. It may be the law of nature, but it always arouses 
in the beholder feelings of indignation to see a gull seize a helpless black 
baby by the neck and bolt it in midair, in spite of frantic kicking and 


1944 


The Farallon Cormorant 


Taken on the Salton Sea Photo by the Author 
AN AWKWARD LANDING 


THE NEIGHBOR OF THE UNFORTUNATE BIRD IS USING VERY UNLADYLIKE LANGUAGE 


squirming. Perhaps we are over-fastidious. The squab has no feathers 
which need plucking or singeing, and as for removing the chicken’s head 
before swallowing, it is a mere human custom, like washing the hands, 
or saying grace before meat. Ah, that is it! It is the gracelessness of 
the performance which gets on our nerves. If the gull would only say, 
“By your leave, gentle cousin,’ and observe a decent ceremony in lead- 
ing this lamb to the slaughter, we should quite approve of his action, 
should we not? 

It will be impossible in our limited space to record all the joys and 
the sorrows of shagdom; but a brief notice of some of the more prominent 
nesting colonies may not be amiss. 

The type locality for this subspecies, the Southeast Farallon, while 
situated about midway of its range, and typical enough as to situation, 


TQ45 


The Farallon Cormorant 


is really not a conspicuous nesting site. The colony which occupies 
the south exposure of the summit of Roundtop fluctuates in size from 
year to year, having suffered severely of late from the depredations of 
the Western Gulls. When I visited the place in May, 1911, it had dwindled 
to about forty pairs. 

Since the desertion of the famous Seal Rocks, off Golden Gate Park, 
by the Steller sea-lion, they have been occupied by a populous colony 
of ‘“‘Farallons.’’ Scarcely a more conspicuous or instructive example 
of the home life of sea-birds could be presented than is there afforded 
to the countless throngs who visit the Cliff House every summer. In 
particular, the nesting of 1915 was spectacular, and those tourists who 
came provided with good binoculars needed no after sight of the excellent 
habitat group prepared by Messrs. Rowley and Fair for the Museum of 
the California Academy of Science. 

The Farallon Cormorant is even better known as a habitant and 
visitant of interior waters than as a sea-bird. It occupies rookeries 
in Tule Lake, Eagle Lake, Clear Lake (in Lake County), and along the 
flooded banks of both the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers. Most 
notable, perhaps, is its occurrence on Salton Sea. The trough of the de- 
pression formerly known as Salton Sink was occupied by a heavy growth of 
mesquite. The great body of water formed by the overflow of the Colorado 
River in 1905-1907, which attained a maximum depth of nearly a hundred 
feet, overwhelmed this § forest, but the water is now subsiding at the 


Taken on the Salton Sea : Photo by the Author 


A FLEET OF SUBMARINES 
A CORMORANT RIDES VERY LOW ON THE WATER 


71040 


Bag UO}[LS ay} UO UAye JT, 


“oyun p ayt hq ydvabojoyd v wos, 
PRACT ZC SAE if fT 


S}SON S8vYS Jo OL, V 


The Farallon Cormorant 


rate of four or five feet 
per annum, and the mes- 
quites, now denuded of 
leaves and minor twigs, 
are reappearing in suc- 
cessive ranks, below Mec- 
ca. The Cormorants are 
thus assured fresh and 
not easily accessible nest- 
ing sites every year. 

We found a thrifty 
colony of some four hun- 
dred pairs here in 1913. 
Nest building had evi- 
dently been begun not 
later than the 1oth of 
January, while on the 
BPeSibnOelareemlomitllhi 
amidst much stir of traf- 
fic, croakings, bellow- 
ings, flappings, and lug- 
ging of sticks, we found 
about one-third of the 
nests already occupied 
by sitting birds. The 
birds fled in a body upon 
our approach (in a leaky 
boat rescued from last : 
year’s beach-line, a half- Taken on the Salton Sea E Photo by the Author 
itis: Galemdl, ere hike PUTTING ON THE BRAKES 
calked with collectors’ cotton); but upon our promise of good behavior, 
backed by consistent quietness, they ventured back by twos and threes 
and small platoons. 

Your Shag is no ballet dancer. Water is her native element, and she 
is not ungraceful in the air, but lighting on a sprangly mesquite bough 
is a more difficult matter. As the contact is about to be made, the per- 
former is convulsed with an agony of apprehension. The tail-brake is 
set hard, the wings are back-firing, the splay feet are held tense, while 
the acuteness of anxiety is most convincingly shown by the rigidity of 
the hyoid apparatus which makes an acute angle in the throat. As 
often as not, the bird misses her footing and scrambles madly, while her 
disconcerted neighbors roar protest. 


1947 


The Brandt Cormorant 


The prosperity of this colony was evidenced both by the unusually 
large average number of eggs per nest—fours and fives being the rule, 
and sixes not rare—and by the uniformly large size of the eggs. The 
controlling factor of this prosperity was undoubtedly the abundant food 
supply. Fish of four or five kinds struggled feebly in the shallow waters 
or else lined the shore in windrows. Chief among them was a large 
sucker (probably Catostomus latipinnis of the Colorado River), which 
would weigh from five to fifteen pounds, and a smaller hump-backed 
fish (a degenerate form of Xyrauchen cypho?), some six inches long. It 
was Impossible to determine what was causing the demise of these fish, 
whether the increasing saltiness of the water, or the exertions of the spawn- 
ing season. Certainly it was not due to any failure in food supply, for the 
fish were rolling fat. 

The remarkably early nesting may have been induced not only by 
the movements of the fish, but by the disciplinary experience of the effect 
upon young squabs of the Colorado Desert sun in, say, April, (equivalent 
to July anywhere else). The Farallon Cormorant is a prudent bird and 
very adaptive, and given his quintal of fish is likely to survive to gladden 
our children’s children to the mth generation. 


Brandt’s Cormorant 


A. O. U. No. 122. Phalacrocorax penicillatus (Brandt). 
Synonyms.—BrROWN CORMORANT. SHAG. 


Description.—Adults in early nuptial plumage: In general deep lustrous 
greenish black, changing to lustrous purplish black on head and neck; lighter on scapu- 
lars and wing-coverts, where feathers exhibit violet-green iridescence and have narrow 
edgings of the darker green; gular sac dull blue, bordered basally with pale brown 
(tawny olive) feathers. From each side of the neck springs a loose irregular tuft of 
stiffsh linear white feathers, declined backward and downward two or three inches; 
similar feathers of twice the width and half the abundance start from the scapulars, 
and a few others, mere stiffened hairs, are scattered over the lower occipital region. 
These white adornments disappear with the advance of the nesting season, and the 
plumage loses much of its luster, especially forward, while the brown feathers bordering 
the gular area fade to pale buffy (cartridge-buff). Immature: General color dark 
brown, darkest and greenish lustrous on head and neck and posteriorly all around, 
lightening to pale fawn or buffy brown on breast and border of gular area; feathers of back, 
scapulars, and wing-coverts glossy greenish dusky with darker borders and pale brown 
edgings. Young (1st juvenal): Like immature, but much darker; color of upperparts 
more definitely greenish lustrous; rump and sides dark-bottle green. Downy young: 
Sooty brown, sprinkled on belly and wings with white. Size variable—length varies 
by six inches; length (av. of 10 Monterey specimens): 749 (29.49); wing 293 (11.54); 
bill 70.4 (2.77); tarsus 65 (2.56). 


1948 


The Brandt Cormorant 


Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; bluish and fawn-colored gorget most dis- 
tinctive at close quarters; general absence of positive characteristics itself distinctive 
at greater range. 

Nesting.— Nest: A substantial crater of moss, sea-weed, and compacted grasses, 
deeply cupped, placed on level surface of rock, usually crest of islet. Eggs: 4; pale 
bluish green overlaid with white calcareous deposit; elliptical ovate or elongate ovate. 
Ay. size 62.5 x 38.6 (2.46 x 1.48); index 61.7; av. of a set of 3 selected for low index: 
67.8 x 37.6 (2.67 x 1.48); index 55.4; index of narrowest egg 53.6. Season: May 20- 
June 20; one brood. 

General Range.—Pacific Coast of North America from Vancouver Island to 
Cape San Lucas. 

Distribution in California.—Abundant resident along the entire seacoast 
and about the Santa Barbara Islands. Not found away from salt water. Numbers 
south of Point Conception augmented in winter. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Carbo penicillatus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 
2, 1., 1849, p. 227 (Monterey); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, vol. v., 1895, 
p. 177 (desc. of breeding colony at Monterey); Ray, Auk, vol. xxi., 1904, p. 437, pl. (desc. 
of breeding colony on Farallon Ids.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, I917. 


Taken on the Southeast Farallon Photo by the Author 


AN OLD NESTING GROUND 


BRANDT CORMORANTS MAY BE SEEN STANDING GUARD UPON THEIR NESTS, BUT CALIFORNIA 
MURRES ARE MORE IN EVIDENCE 


7949 


The Brandt Cormorant 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF BRANDT CORMORANT 


BRANDT’S Cormorant is both more sociable—or, strictly speaking, 
gregarious—and more wary than its milder-mannered cousins, the Faral- 
lon and the White-crest (P. a. cincinatus). Such wariness is a little 
hard to account for, because the Indians of our southern coasts, where 
the bird enjoys its widest distribution, were never such bold navigators 
as those of the Northland, who have for generations robbed the rookeries 
of the White-crested, Pelagic, and Red-faced Cormorants. Nevertheless, 
Brandt’s is a familiar figure on the piles of the unfrequented piers, as well 
as on the rocky headlands of our entire coastline. If the bird is not 
exactly of a mind to fly at the first alarm from a passing steamer, it stands 
with wings half open, that, should necessity arise, no time may be lost in 
making good its escape. Again, a group of them will sit on a low-lying 
reef, or even on a floating log, with wings half extended, “drying their 
clothes” in the sunshine. The wings as well as the feet are used under 
water, but we cannot guess why the Cormorants more than other aquatic 
species should be averse to wet plumage. 

These birds nest in large, close-set colonies, which, partly no doubt 
for sanitary reasons, they relocate from year to year. At least a last 


1950 


The Brandt Cormorant 


year’s nesting site visited on the Farallons was not only buried in white- 
wash, but contained an appalling number of sodden squab skeletons. The 
new site chosen for the season of 1911 was on the north slope of Maintop, 
and by the last week in May was ina furor of nest-building activity. The 
interested actions of hovering gulls suggested that community tactics 
had been engendered as much by fear of the gull as anything else. An 
isolated nest might easily be surrounded by a mob of these pious maraud- 
ers, and its occupants crowded or lured away; but in a closely occupied 
colony it is the invader who is surrounded, and a half dozen writhing 
necks surmounted by beaks of no mean power are too much for the Larine 
nerve. But it is also amusing to see how the Brandt Cormorants prey 
upon each other in the matter of building material. They are always 
grabbing at each other’s haypile in passing, and once an absence is noted 
or an easy mark discovered, the ungenerous neighbors fall upon the nest 
and lug it off piecemeal. One bird I saw who seized a beakful which for 
bulk was half as large as himself—a magnificent haul. 

Characteristically, the nest is a huge bowl or crater of weeds and 
grasses, freshly plucked. Of nest-building near Point Lobos, Chapman 


Taken on the Southeast Farallon Photo by the Author 
THE GULLS IN POSSESSION 
OUR NECESSARY PRESENCE FRIGHTENED THE CORMORANTS AND THE WESTERN GULLS HAVE CLEANED UP EVERY 
EGG IN SIGHT 


TQ5T 


The Brandt Cormorant 


says:! ‘‘The Cormorants were now gathering grass for their nests, from 
an island almost within a stone’s throw of the mainland. They appeared 
as a rule from the south, alighted at the edge of the island, a cliff some 
thirty feet in height, waddled awkwardly to the unclipped grass, pulled 
a bill-full, waddled back to the cliff border, threw themselves into the 
air on outstretched wings, and flying toward the north, returned to their 
nesting rock, which was immediately back of the one on which they were 
haying. Throughout the day feathered mowers were rarely absent from 
the field, sometimes as many as nine birds being present. The denuded 
area from which the grass had been removed was as bare and as sharply 
defined from that portion of the crop which the Cormorants had not yet 
gathered as though it had been mowed and raked by a human harvester.” 

The eggs, normally four in number, are of a delicate ‘“‘blue’’—the 
color of skim milk, Finley says. This effect is secured by a thin white 


1Camps and Cruises of an Ornithologist, by Frank M. Chapman; New York, D. Appleton & Co., 1908, p. 272. 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
THE LEGACY OF GUN-FIRE 


ALL WINGED CREATURES FLEE AT THE APPROACH OF CIVILIZED (!) MAN 


1952 


The Brandt Cormorant 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
PEACE 


calcareous veil drawn over the whole, a sort of limy crust which now 
and then breaks away in patches, uncovering areas of purest heron’s egg 
green. This limy incrustation is sometimes so coarse and irregular that 
the whole egg appears like some quaint arabesque in green and white. 
The eggs are soon soiled and nest-stained, however, and in many cases 
they become a dull brownish from the excretions of innumerable shag- 
flies which haunt the scene. 

The newly hatched young are mother naked, and of a repulsive 
greasy black appearance. At the age of a week or such a matter they are 
covered with a thick black down, well sprinkled upon the sides with white. 
The gular area is of a livid blue-black color from the outset, and young 
Brandts may thus be clearly distinguished from young Farallons, with 
which they occasionally mingle when frightened. A young cormorant is 
no mean climber. Armed with sharp claws, and hesitating not a moment 
to use wings in lieu of hands, an unsettled squab can scramble back up a 
very steep bit of rock. The social instinct is very strong in times of dan- 
ger, and a hundred bantlings will huddle together in a single seething 
mass of apprehension. 

The details of infant nursing are fortunately obscured from the eyes 


LOTS, 


The Brandt Cormorant 


of areluctant public. The “operation” takes place in the parental throat, 
down which the youngster thrusts his serpent-like head. Do not, there- 
fore, accuse the gentle shag of cannibalism when you detect it in the act 
of swallowing the first six or eight inches of its infant’s anatomy. Baby 
has been invited to help himself, and he will presently emerge from those 
fish-lined depths in radiant if dishevelled triumph. 

Dr. Brewer says! of an allied species, nowise different in this respect: 
“The eggs have a very strong and disagreeable flavor, and they cannot 
be made to coagulate by boiling.” As to the latter point I cannot say; 
I have always taken mine fried, with a bit of bacon, and believe me, 
they are delicious. Tut, tut! what am I saying? Avaunt, savage seduc- 
tive memory! we are civilized now, and we must not under any circum- 
stances rob the poor birdies. No one but an Indian should be allowed 
to eat a Shag’s egg, and he should have a warden posted on either hand 
to see that he does not take two. But it is to laugh—that hoary, pious, 
fraudulent tradition about the eggs of sea-birds being “fishy,” or ‘‘musky,”’ 
or having ‘‘strong disagreeable flavors.’’ The Doctor must have got hold 
of an overripe one. 

The winter chronicle of the Steganopodous sea-front has not yet been 
written. We only know in a vague way that there is a considerable re- 
distribution of shags at that season. Perhaps it is merely because the birds 
are released from family cares that we see a good deal more of them in- 
shore. A school of herring occasionally seeks refuge in the shailows, and 
they are as likely to invade the waterfront of some coastal town as remoter 
spots. Thus, on the 24th of December, 1917, the guests of the Potter 
Hotel saw a mixed flock of about 2,000 birds, chiefly shags, crowding the 
nearer reaches of our little bay and bewailing the bashful herring. 

Two days later, at a protected spot six miles west of town, a com- 
panion and I stumbled upon a scene which seemed like a chapter from the 
elder world. We had appeared unexpectedly at a very low tide around the 
foot of the usually impassable cliff at Moore’s Point. On the beach of the 
embayment just east of the black and white cliffs (asphalt and shag- 
shearn) we discovered an immense company of sea-fowl, chiefly shags, 
sunning themselves. They took alarm at our distant approach, but were 
presently reassured when we seated ourselves in the shadow, and pro- 
ceeded to re-form themselves into a line for landing. This was altogether 
one of the most interesting operations I have seen among the sea-birds. 
The landing line, consisting of several birds abreast, extended out from 
shore nearly half a mile, all of the intending immigrants swimming slowly 
toward shore. It was interesting to watch the landing itself. The shags 
allowed the surf, which is very gentle here, to wash them ashore, and then 


1 Baird, Brewer and Ridgway, ‘‘The Water Birds of North America,”’ Vol. II., p. 153s 


L954 


heey 


The Brandt Cormorant 


they struggled free of the water, shook themselves, and went waddling up 
the wet spume as fast as their short legs would carry them. The upper 
beach had become, therefore, a solid black mass of shags. 

Not all the shags required to wade ashore, for there was a constant 
string of arrivals by the air route. As nearly as I could make out the 
three species were represented, Baird’s, if any, decidedly in the minority, 
the Farallons outnumbering the Brandt’s three to one. Altogether there 
must have been three thousand ashore, the most I ever saw at one time. 
Of other birds there were Heermann Gulls, Western Gulls, Royal Terns 
(a few) and California Pelicans. 

As we approached, a second time, the necessity of early action in 
flight became more apparent to the birds. The great body of birds up- 
beach was helpless, or nearly so, by reason of juxtaposition, so the exodus 
began at the water’s edge and worked up the beach as fast as possible. 
As we broke into a run, the pace became feverish, but there was no dis- 
order. The birds knew that they had just one chance, and they took 
it. In an incredibly short space of time the army melted away, from the 
front only, and the last bird had cleared with a run and violent flapping 
when we arrived, laughing and breathless. There was nothing to fear. 
The birds knew it then, and they blinked at each other sheepishly from 
behind the line of breakers—blinked or winked, I am not just sure which. 


Photo by the Author 


THE ETHIOPIAN CLUB 
BRANDT CORMORANTS ON ROCK NEAR SANTA CRUZ 


L955) 


The Baird Cormorant 


No. 397 


Baird’s Cormorant 


A. O. U. No. 123b. Phalacrocorax pelagicus resplendens Audubon. 

Synonyms.— RESPLENDENT CORMORANT. SOUTHERN VIOLET-GREEN CORMO- 
RANT. SHAG. 

Description.—Adults in breeding plumage: General coloration deep lustrous 
bottle-green with purplish reflections; head and neck all around shining violet with 
steel-blue changes, a few lanceolate white feathers projecting at random from sides 
of head and neck; a prominent flank-patch pure white; frontal and occipital feathers 
lengthened, producing two crests, of which frontal more prominent; frontal feathering 
reaching culmen, but eyelids and space below eye bare; gular sac reduced in area, dull 
coral-red. Bill and feet bluish-black; iris bright red. Adults after breeding season 
are without crests, plumules, or flank-patches. Young birds are plain sooty black 
above, lighter, or whitening centrally, below. Nestlings hatched naked, soon acquiring 
sooty gray down. Length (av. of 10 Monterey Bay specimens): 640.8 (25.51); wing 
259 (10.20); bill 46.5 (1.83), depth at narrowest portion 7.57 (.30); tarsus 50.8 (2.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size, smallest of local cormorants; white flank- 
patches in breeding season; lustrous green and violet plumage distinctive. 

Nesting.— Nest: A low crater or semilune, compacted chiefly of eel-grass, 
cemented with excrement; placed on narrow ledge or upon rock boss of sea-wall. 
Eggs: 2 to 4,5 of record; pale bluish green, with irregular calcareous covering; elongate 
ovate to cylindrica’ ovate. Avy. size 57.3 x 35.6 (2.256 x I 40); index 60.3. Season: 
June; one brood. 

Range of Phalacrocorax pelagicus——The coasts of the North Pacific Ocean, 
south to China and western Mexico. 

Range of P. p. resplendens.—Pacific Coast of North America from northern 
Washington south to Cape San Lucas and Mazatlan, Mexico. 

Distribution in California#—Common resident along the entire seacoast, 
breeding upon exposed portions of rugged rocks and mainland cliffs. Not found away 
from salt water. 

Authorities.—Heermann (Phalacrocorax resplendens), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., 
vol. x., 1859, p. 72 (Farallon Ids.); W. E. Bryant, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, i., 1888, 
p. 25 (desc. breeding colony on Farallon Ids.); Clay, Condor, vol. xiii., 1911, p. 138 
(depth of diving). 


HARD experience, as well as innate suspicion, has led the Baird 
Cormorant, long since, to forsake the comfortable quarters of her easy- 
going kinsmen, the Brandt and the Farallon, and to rear her young on 
the bosses and inaccessible ledges of grim sea-cliffs. The ridges and 
crests belong to the larger Shags, but the sides are her domain. Her calcu- 
lations are not always infallible—your Shag is no Plato—but unget- 
atability has been her life study, and her average attainments in this 
line are noteworthy. The sculptured pillars and crannied sea-walls of 


1950 


The Baird Cormorant 


our smaller coastal islands are an 
especial delight to her, while some 
of the sheer walls upon our mainland 
promontories permit fairly gratifying 
opportunities for study. Indeed, there 
is scarcely an islet along our entire 
Pacific Coast, from the Santa Barbara 
Islands to Norton Sound, which does 
not boast from one to thirty pairs of 
these venturesome birds (or the doubt- 
fully larger form, P. p. resplendens); 
while the larger islands, like the 
Farallons, and the more inaccessible 
promontories, harbor hundreds. In 
an ideal situation, like that furnished 
by Fuca’s Pillar, off Cape Flattery, 
these shags range themselves in serried 
ranks along impossible ledges, looking 
collectively like black bottles on a 
druggist’s shelves, or, more elegantly, 
and at closer quarters, like ebony 
statuettes on marble pedestals. 
Cormorants plunge into the wild- 
est waters as fearlessly as sea-lions, 
and they carry on their fishing opera- 
tions about the shoulders of booming 
reefs which humans dare not ap- 
proach. Baird’s Cormorants appear to be quite the most intrepid of 
their kind; and if certain accounts of northern fishermen, recorded 
by Mr. C. I. Clay,! of Eureka, are to be believed, they have been taken 
in eighty fathoms of water. Mr. Clay himself saw Brandt Cormorants 
enmeshed in nets set at twenty fathoms, and was told that the larger 
species was never taken below forty. Wings are used for propulsion 
as well as the powerful full-webbed feet. The nostrils, moreover, of 
all adult cormorants are permanently closed, so that we have here per- 
haps, at least among those who can also fly, the world’s champion diver. 
After luncheons, which occur quite frequently in the cormorant day, 
the birds love to gather on some low-lying reef, just above the reach of 
the waves, and devote the intervening hours to that most solemn func- 
tion of life, digestion. There is evidence that the birds discuss oceanic 
politics on these occasions—the benevolent assimilation of a twelve- 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
BAIRD CORMORANTS AT NEST 


1Condor, XIII., p. 138. 


1957 


Taken 


The Baird Cormorant 


eth 


in Washington Photo by the Author 
A NESTING WALL OF BAIRD CORMORANTS 


CAREFUL INSPECTION WILL MAKE OUT FORTY BIRDS SITTING ON OR NEAR THEIR NESTS 


inch buffalo cod is presumed to be sufficient occupation for union hours. 

As might be inferred from their choice of nesting sites, Baird Cor- 
morants are more sprightly than the larger species, and also exceedingly 
shy. An interview at close quarters is impossible, and we must employ 
stealth to get close enough to one to note the lustrous black plumage 
with the flashing iridescence of violet and green and purple, the curious 
feather-tufts like budding horns, and the blood-red eyes, which im- 
part to their owners a fierce, not to say wicked, appearance. Under 
apprehension of danger, the bird will crane its neck at every conceiv- 
able angle, punctuating its moments of anxiety with a flirt of its mobile 


TO58 


Ps * 


The Baird Cormorant 


tail—that is, if that useful member can be spared from its frequent 
duty of assisting the bird to maintain a precarious foothold on some 
slight projection of the cliff side. Now and then also the bird voids 
vigorously, distributing an impartial whitewash over all surrounding 
objects. 

When the birds of a colony quit their nests, they launch out swiftly, 
wagging their heads from side to side if the danger is above them. They 
may join the puffins and gulls for a few rounds of inspection, but oftener 
they settle in the water at some distance from the shore, a large com- 
pany of them looking and acting very much like a flock of black geese. 
It requires quite an effort on the bird’s part to rise from the water, but 
this is done with a single motion of the wings, unassisted by the feet, as 
would be the case with heavy ducks and loons. If the Shag has been 
diving, it may burst out of the water with the acquired impetus of the 
chase; and once under way, its flight is swift and vigorous and not alto- 
gether ungraceful. 

Baird Cormorants are late nesters. Fresh eggs may be taken by the 


Taken in Washington 
Photo by the Author 


A POPULAR NESTING SITE 


NESTS OF THREE SPECIES OF SHAGS 
OCCUPY THIS POINT 


L959 


The Baird 
Cormorant q 


Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
KNOB AND SPIKE 


middle of June, or even the middle of May in extreme southern localities, 
but the first of July is nearer the height of the season. Nests are bracket- 
shaped, or quadrispherical, oftener than complete crater-shaped; for 
allowance must be made for the crowding of the wall, against which 
this cormorant always builds. The structure is the work of successive 
seasons, and the limy excrement, which invarably cements the grasses 
of which it is composed, appears rather to favor its preservation than 
to hasten its decay. An extreme instance of this seasonal increment may 
be seen at the mouth of the Painted Cave on Santa Cruz Island. Nesting 
towers, five or six feet in height, appear in certain favored situations, under 
the protecting vault of the giant archway. Certain of these alabaster 
monuments, indeed, are feeling the crowding effect of the arching walls, 
and the time is not far distant when these leaning towers of Pisa must 
be overbalanced. 

The eggs are of a delicate bluish green when first laid, half or two- 
thirds overspread with a thick chalky deposit. They are of an elongated 
elliptical shape, varying greatly in size, but averaging smaller than either 
of the other local species; while runts, or undersized eggs, are not in- 
frequent. 

As in the case of all cormorants, nesting is liable to be broken up 
by the depredations of gulls or ravens, so that if a second attempt is 
made, the rearing of chicks is thrown very late in the season. At Gren- 
ville Point, on the Washington coast, I found nests with incomplete sets, 
as well as young just hatched, on the 27th of August, 1910. On the 17th 
of the month following I revisited the scene, and concluded that some, at 
least, of the youngsters under review would not be able to quit the nest 
before November. 


7960 


4oyin p ayy dq qnogna puv aa1yDba NT 


UMA “CY V4OPayy aq quar uinb D UWOLT 
souvqd Sov'yT }&v SUuvIT[Iq OU AA UvITIOWY 
9Z901G IY} Ssulsevaig 


The White Pelican 


No. 398 


White Pelican 


A. O. U. No. 125. Pelecanus erythrorhynchos Gmelin. 

Synonym.—RouGH-BILLED PELICAN. 

Description.—A dult in breeding plumage: General plumage white; the primaries 
black on exposed portions; secondaries black, touched with hoary gray near tips; a 
pendent occipital crest of white or pale yellow; lanceolate feathers of lesser wing-coverts 
and chest pale straw-vellow or buff; a thin, elevated, horny protuberance on ridge of 
culmen a little forward of the middle; bill and pouch reddish; legs and feet bright orange- 
red. Adult in winter: Similar but without horny protuberance on bill; the occipital 
crest wanting; yellow coloring of chest and wing-coverts pale. Bill and feet not so 
bright. Jmmature: Like adult in winter, but feathers of crown and lesser wing- 
coverts mixed with brownish gray; chest feathers not modified; a fluffy, short, occipital 
crest; the bill, pouch, legs, and feet pale yellowish. ‘‘Length 4% to nearly 6 feet; 
extent 8% to nearly 10 feet; weight about 17 pounds” (Ridgway); wing 610 (24.40); 
tail 152.4 (6.00); bill 266.7-381 (10.50-15.00); tarsus 123 (4.85). 

Recognition Marks.—Giant size, with large bill and gular pouch; white plumage. 

Nesting.— Nest: A crater of earth 4 or 5 inches high and surmounted by a few 
twigs or weed-stems; nests in colonies on islands of large lakes. Eggs: 2 or 3, rarely 
4, 5 of record; elongate ovate, or elliptical ovate, roughly chalky as to surface; white, 
but often smeared longitudinally with bright olive (olive lake). Size variable; average 
perhaps 87.6 x 58.4 (3.45 x 2.30). Season: April 15-May. 

General Range.—Interior and western North America; breeding from British 
Columbia, Great Slave Lake, and southwestern Keewatin, south to Manitoba, Utah, 
and southern Californa; wintering from Florida, the Gulf States, and southern 
California south to Costa Rica; also occurring on the Atlantic Coast during migrations, 
north to New Brunswick. 

Distribution in California.—Common resident both east and west of the Sier- 
ras, or possibly retiring in winter from the northeastern plateau region. Appears on 
lesser lakes and reservoirs and rarely coastwise during migrations or in seasonal wander- 
ings; breeds on islands in Tule Lake, Eagle Lake (at least formerly), Sacramento 
River (formerly), Tulare Lake, Buena Vista Lake, and Salton Sea. 

Authorities—Gambel (Pelecanus trachyrhynchus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. 
Phila., ser. 2, i., 1849, p. 227 (Calif.); Finley, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 35, figs. (desc. 
and photos of breeding colony at Tule Lake, n. Calif.) ; Grinnell, Condor, vol. x., 1908, 
p. 187 (breeding colony on Salton Sea). 


WELL did the Psalmist of old choose the Pelican as the symbol of 
the wilderness. ‘“‘Dead”’ seas and salty, the mighty evaporating pans of 
the desert, have here given rise to a race as weird, as majestic, as grace- 
fully uncouth, as any that have ever adorned the pages of time. The 
White Pelican is an embodiment of an elder age, a legacy of the opulent 
days when Nature took thought of her winged children, and recked not 
of the reign of man, man the ruthless, man the envious, man the destroyer. 


TOOL 


The White Pelican 


Taken on Salton Sea Pholo by the Author 
A PASSING PLANE 


For eons the great white birds 
have circled and soared over 
the desert wastes of interior 
western America. For genera- 
tions uncounted they have fished 
in the salty waters of Lake 
Lahontan, of Lake Bonneville, 
and their successors; or they 
have foregathered ashore in 
snowy windrows to meditate, 
to digest, and to gladden withal 
the retrospective eye of the 
rare man who, like his Creator, 
enjoys the simple bliss of the 
undisturbed wild. The Pelican 
and the wilderness stand to- 
gether in their mute appeal. 
When the one is fully “re- 
claimed,’ the other must per- 
ish. 

It need not be supposed 
that these ponderous fowls, the 
largest of water-birds by avoir- 
dupois, are to be set down as 
awkward simply because they 
have big bills. Viewed at a 
distance, as they rest on shore 
or near some low mud island, 
their stately ranks present a 
most impressive spectacle. In 
flight they are calm, almost 
majestic; and their white plu- 
mage, set off by black wing-tips, 
makes a fine showing in the 


morning sun. They sit the water almost as gracefully as swans, and ‘“‘tip”’ 
in a dignified way, immersing the entire head and neck—again much after 
the fashion of swans. Being provided, also, with an extensive system of 
air-sacs, they ride high and get credit for all their inches. 

Two pictures come most vividly before the mind’s eye of the author. 
One is of a company of about 300 pelicans who daily resorted to the 
western end of the Salton Sea, then, in 1913, near Mecca. Although the 
Farallon Cormorants were nesting feverishly, February Ist, the Pelicanos 


7962 


The White Pelican 


alternately loafed and fished in idyllic indolence and in utter disregard 
of the claims of posterity. It was like a yacht-meet; and although there 
was no racing, a landsman got the same impression of being surrounded by 
the masters of a strange medium, sea-creatures, shamelessly and gloriously 
white. If we paddled toward the birds in a leaky skiff which served our 
photographic needs, the nearest members of the company took slow alarm, 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS 


rose, and settled with their fellows farther up the bay. Just before sunset, 
without further provocation, the entire regiment would take wing with a 
muffled roar very inspiriting to the ornithological ear. 

A second picture is of a company of birds which gathered daily in 
midwinter at Potholes below the big Laguna Dam, in the Colorado River. 
There were shoals here, midstream, where the birds could rest—great, 
comfortable-looking creatures that they were; and as for fish, the neigh- 
boring pools were evidently swarming with fish whose upward course had 
been arrested by the dam. The waters from the spillway roared, the dam 
itself proclaimed the arrogance of man, the arbiter of destinies, but the 
gleaming birds spoke only of elemental peace. 

The third picture is of a company of birds, a hundred or so, who, 
having come west, perhaps through the San Gorgonio Pass, were daunted 
by the splendor of Pasadena and the distant immanence of still more 
dreadful Los Angeles, and who sought escape to the upper deserts. From 
a back porch in Altadena I saw the birds rise in majestic circles until 


1903 


The White Pelican 


Taken on the Salton Sea 
THREE GRACES 


1904 


Photo by the Author 


they had topped Mt. Lowe, 
whose observatory they ex- 
amined curiously; and then | 
watched them, sharply pointed 
dots of white against the chap- 
arral green of the mountains, 
until they had cleared Mt. Wil- 
son and disappeared toward 
Mohave. It was a “‘flying cir- 
cus,” in the days before human 
imitations had made their ap- 
pearance, at least in squadron 
formation, and at that I think 
the birds had the advantage. 

Speaking of aviators, I re- 
call a fourth picture in which 
these master craftsmen of the 
air posed as inspectors of the 
new aspirants. It was at a 
famous meet of the early day, 
April 19th, 1913, at Sacramento, 
when Christofferson, Blakely, 
Francis, and others were enter- 
taining the crowd at the State 
Fair grounds. There were two 
machines in the air doing a sky- 
climb, which was to conclude 
the program, when a_ close- 
ranked platoon of some thirty- 
odd White Pelicans swept over 
the exhibition grounds in silent 
majesty. But in passing, their 
attention was attracted by the 
strange invaders of their ethereal 
medium, and they broke file, 
wavered, circled and towered 
in curious confusion and appre- 
hension, for the space of ten 
minutes. Alas! not even the 
sky is safe for these children 
of the older day. 


The White Pelican 


Taken in Riverside County Photo by the Author 
WHITE PELICANS OVER SALTON SEA 


The Pelican lives upon an exclusive diet of fish, and he uses his great 
gular pouch as a dip-net, or scoop, rather than as a creel for transporta- 
tion, as was formerly supposed. He prefers little fish to big ones; and, 
indeed, the big fish rarely come his way, for he does not plunge from 
midair, after the fashion of his brown cousin, P. o. californicus. After a 
successful haul, the fisher bird raises his head, contracts the bellying net, 
or pouch, ejects the water, and swallows the catch. It sometimes happens 
that the bird makes a greater catch than he can handle, or, at least, 
greater than he has time to swallow during the rush of a successful drive. 
In this case he retires to shore with a full basket to effect a readjustment 
or to discard a clearly proven surplus. 

The fish are carried in the crop, and the young are fed during infancy 
by regurgitation. As they advance in age, however, they are allowed to 
thrust their greedy beaks down the parental gullet and help themselves 
to findings—a most shocking procedure. 

At nesting time the Pelicans resort in large numbers to islands, 
whether low-lying or more rugged, in the larger lakes; less frequently 
to shoals or tule barrens in overflowed areas. Not alone because of per- 
secution, but because of fluctuation in the water supply, these nestings 
are subject to greater or less vicissitudes, and in some dry seasons are 


1905 


The White Pelican 


abandoned outright. The appearance, then, of scattered companies in 
spring or summer is no sign that the birds are nesting in the immediate 
neighborhood, or indeed anywhere. 

Pelicans have bred at many scattered stations in California, and 
they still nest at a few of them. The history of these nestings, within 


Taken on Lower Klamath Lake Photo by Finley and Bohlman 
PARENTAL PRIDE 


recent decades even, would make a pretty volume. Not having had the 
privilege of making a close personal study of a breeding colony of White 
Pelicans, the author must content himself with a brief citation of recent 
nesting records, and a paragraph or so descriptive of conditions found 
by others. 

In 1906 and 1907, with the outbreak of ‘‘New’’ River and the re- 
formation of Salton Sea, the White Pelicans took up residence on Echo 
Island and Pelican Island. Here they were visited by Joseph Grinnell! 
in 1908, April 19th and 20th, and he found 980 occupied nests on Echo 
Island, besides many others in process of construction. This colony, 
long since scattered by reason of the restoration of Echo “‘Island’’ to the 
mainland, was especially interesting as having been at the southernmost 

1Condor, Vol. X., Sept., 1908, pp. 187-189. 


7906 


The White Pelican 


breeding station of record for the 
species. 

A colony nesting on Buena 
Vista Lake, in Kern County, 
was first reported by C. B. 
Linton, who says:! ‘Two 
large colonies were vis- 
ited; one of about 250 
nests, on a small sandy 
island in the river mouth; 
the other of perhaps 500 
nests, on the lake shore. 
The nests of the latter 
colony were mostly well 
constructed of tules and 
marsh grass covering 
about two acres. The 
nests on the island were 
merely holes scooped in 
the sand.”’ This island 
colony was visited again 
on June 8th, 1912, by 
Messrs. A. Brazier 
Howell and Chester 
Lamb, and they re- 
ported? six hundred oc- 
cupied nests, about equally divided between the Pelicans and Cormorants 
(P. a. albociliatus). ‘‘As everyone knows who has skinned a pelican, there 


Photo by 


Taken in Oregon Finley and Bohlman} 


WHITE PELICAN, IMMATURE 


1 Condor, Vol. X., Sept., 1908, p. 196 
?Condor, Vol. XV., May, 1913, pp. 116-117. 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
AN ELEPHANTINE FLEET 1907 


The White Pelican 


is a mass of air cells between the surface skin and the body nearly three- 
quarters of an inch thick, which can be inflated at will, and which no 
doubt accounts for the easy flight and wonderful soaring of this un- 
gainly bird. Their method of securing fish is interesting, and almost 
shows brain work. Just after dark and frequently during the night, 
loud splashings could be heard. This we found to be caused by the 


Taken in Siskiyou County Photo by Wm. L. Finley and H. T. Bohlman 
HELPING HIMSELF 


pelicans forming in line out in the shallows and then starting shore- 
wards with much flapping of wings on the water in order to drive the 
fish where the water was shoal enough for them to be easily caught 
by the birds. In fact this is the only method of fishing that they could 
employ, for the water is neither clear nor deep enough for them to fol- 
low such diving tactics as are adopted by P. californicus on our coasts.” 

According to local rumor, a shifting colony of Pelicans has main- 
tained itself on Tulare Lake for a great many years. As we were skirt- 
ing the western shore of the lake on May 14th, 1912, we saw many birds, 
and a young man who herded cattle hard by told us minutely of the 
location of a colony of White Pelicans breeding on a tiny island some 


1968 


The White Pelican 


18 miles away. He claimed to have visited the place on the Ist day 
of May, at which time most of the nests to the number of “‘thousands”’ 
were occupied. Goldman had heard similar rumors in 1907.! 

Heermann stated, in 1859, that ‘‘a few pairs’’ were breeding in the 
Sacramento Valley. Probably the descendants of the colony referred to 
were among the ones photographed by Mr. George Neale on Lone Tree 
Island, about three miles northwest of the City of Sacramento, on June 
28th, 1910.2 Very possibly there are several scattered colonies in the 
great central valley of which we have no record at this time. 

The next “‘registered’’ breeding station appears to be Eagle Lake, 
where, in 1884, Charles H. Townsend found the birds in great num- 
bers.s “‘There are two islands lying in this beautiful sheet of water, 
and I observed that the pelicans had taken almost exclusive possession 
of one of them, the other being similarly occupied by equally large num- 
bers of shags.”’ 

Lastly, Finley and Bohlman, visiting Tule (or Rhett) Lake in the 
summer of 1905, found a small colony breeding in association with 
Farallon Cormorants. Lower Klamath Lake, on the Oregon-California 
boundary, was visited the same season, and of the eight or ten big rookeries 
there discovered, it is fair to presume that a large proportion were Cali- 
fornia feeders, if not breeders. 

According to this authority,‘ ‘The pelican season begins in April 
after the snow and ice have melted, and lasts till August and September 
when the young are able to care for themselves. In June and July, when 
we visited the colonies, the young were able to walk and swim about, 
but the wing feathers had not yet developed flying strength, for the birds 
were still in the downy stage. 

“Tt takes about a month for the pelican to hatch its eggs, and the 
baby pelican is naked, helpless and ugly, and has to be shielded from the 
sun by its mother. Its ugliness increases with age till the youngster 
is covered with white down. The young birds stick close to the nesting 
site where they are fed by the parents, until, when about six weeks 
old, they begin to run about and mingle with the other young birds. 

“Tt would be difficult to tell how an old pelican can recognize her 
own, but she seems to do it, for nesting is not a communal matter. As 
soon as an old bird alighted in the rookery, she was besieged by half a 
dozen young ones, but I never saw one of the parents feed till she had 
apparently made some selection as to the young. 

“The half grown pelicans stand around with their mouths open, pant- 

SE eae See eae July, 1916, p. 161. 


Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., Vol. X., 1887 p. 192. 
4“ Among the Pelicans,”’ by William L. Finley, Condor Vol. IX. March ,1907 -pp. 35-41- 


7909 


The California Brown Pelican 


ing like a lot of dogs after the chase on a hot day, their pouches shaken 
at every breath. When we went near one of the colonies, the youngsters 
went tottering off on their big webbed feet with wings dragging on this 
side and that as if they were poorly handled crutches. The first thing 
they did when we approached was to vomit up fish and then stagger on 
with the crowd. Following along after a band of young pelicans was as 
bad as crossing a battlefield where the victims were fish, for the carcasses 
were strewn all along in the wake of the procession. Those on the out- 
side pushed and climbed to get nearer the center, till it looked worse than 
any football scrimmage I ever saw. I watched one large bird rush for the 
center, bucking over three or four others and finally landing astraddle the 
neck of another. When we went nearer, those on the outside began to 
circle the ends, and around and around the whole mass revolved as it 
moved off. Soon after, the little gluttons retraced their steps to pick 
up the fish dinners that had been left behind.” 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
FOUR PATRIARCHS 


No. 399 


California Brown Pelican 


A. O. U. No. 127. Pelecanus occidentalis californicus Ridgway. 


Description.—Adult in breeding plumage: Bill mottled light and dark with 
various tinting of carmine; bare space about eye brownish; eyelids red; irides white; 
pouch red; a short narrow occipital crest of loose feathers; feathers of head and borders 
of pouch white; the rest of neck dark chestnut to blackish; upperparts silvery gray, 
the feathers of back, rump, lesser wing-coverts, etc., edged with dusky; underparts 
dusky, the shafts of feathers white, striped with silvery white on sides, etc.; feet black. 
Adult in winter: Similar but without chestnut on neck, white instead; top and sides 
of head and the lower jugulum tinged with straw-yellow. Jmmature: Head and neck 
all around, chest, and upperparts brownish gray, varied somewhat by paler edgings of 
feathers, especially on lesser wing-coverts, and by dull silvery plating of major feathers of 


L970 


: The California Brown Pelican Pg se 


ing like a lot of dogs after the chase on a hot day, their pouches shaken _ 
at every breath. When we went near one of the colonies, the youngsters 
went tottering off on their big webbed feet with wings dragging 

side and that as if they were poorly handled crutches. ‘The first t 

they did when we approached was to vomit up fish and then stag 

with the crowd. Following along after a band of young pelicans was as 
bad as crossing a battlefield. where the victims were fish, for the carcé sses_ 
were strewn all along in the wake of the procession. Those on the out-— 
side pushed and climbed to get nearer the center, till it looked worse than 
any football scrimmage | ever'saw. 1 watched one large bird rush for the 
center, bucking over three or four others and finally landing astraddle the 
neck of another. When we went nearer, those on the outside began to 
circle the ends, and around and around the whole mass revolved as it _ 
moved off. Soon after, the little gluttons retraced their steps to pick ~ 
up the fish dinners that had been left behind.” Mica ieee 


s 
& 
3 
= 
>] 
n 
[->) 
= 
= 
<< 
a 


ting—not a breeding colony 


pyright 1923, by W. L. Dawson 


Taken in Merced County Photo by tie Al 


PATRIARCHS on 


n Santa Grue Island 


% 


| 
| 
| 
| 


icans res 
co 
t 


n Pel: 
raph, 
aken 0 
° 
w 
S 
—_ 


5 DN . 
Calig £nid Brown Pelican 
>) ie 
AOU UGUNo. 427) reed WF occidentalis californicus Ridgway. 


Description..— Adult hBeding plumage: Bill mottled light and dark with, 
various tinting of carmine; Saressiice about eve brownish; eyelids red; irides whites 
pouch red; a short narrow occipital! crest of loose feathers; feathers of head and borders i 
of pouch white: the rest of neck dark chestnut to blackish, upperparts silvery gray, 
ihe feathers of back, rump, lesser wing-coverts, etc., edged with dusky; underparts), 
dusky, the shafts of feathers white, striped with silvery white on sides, etc-; feet black. 
Adu in winier: Similar but without chestnut on neck, white instead; top and sides 
of head and the iower jugulum tinged with straw-yellow. : Immature: Headiand neck: 
ali around, chest, and upperparts brownish gray, varied somewhat by paler edgings of 
feathers, especially on lesser wing-coverts, and by dull silvery plating of major feathers of 

zu a 


Yr 


£970 


OT. TA CL. A % 
UOT M7) IZA WA 49 exer pythifo, 


The California Brown Pelican 


wings and tail; underparts white, washed with brownish gray on sides; an occipital 
crest as in adult, but brownish. Length of adult 1371.6 (4% feet) or more; average 
of 7 Monterey specimens: wing 565 (22.25); bill 346 (13.60); tarsus 83.4 (3.28). 

Recognition Marks.—Giant size; silvery gray and brown coloration, with im- 
mense bill, distinctive. 

Nesting.—In colonies. Nest: A shallow platform of sticks and trash on the 
ground, usually a sea-girt islet. Eggs: 3 or 4; elliptical ovate; white with roughened 
chalky surface due to irregular overlays of calcareous material, often smeared with 
bright olive (olive lake) and early nest-stained. Av. size 76.2 x 48.3 (3.00 x 1.90). 
Season: Feb. 15-May. 

Range of Pelecanus occidentalis—Coasts of temperate and tropical America 
from the Gulf States and California south to Brazil and Ecuador. 

Range of P. o. californicus.—Pacific Coast of America from California to the 
Galapagos and Ecuador; breeds north to about Latitude 34°, and wanders up the 
Pacific Coast, chiefly at the close of the breeding season, to Oregon or Washington, 
and rarely to the mouth of the Fraser River and Alert Bay, Vancouver Island (Mrs. 
Bicknell). Also casual in the interior east to Nevada (A. O. U.). 

Distribution in California.—Breeds north on the Santa Barbara Islands to 
Anacapa Island and Prince Islet (off San Miguel). Found at all seasons irregularly 
and in varying numbers along the entire coast line and in bays and harbors, least 
commonly during spring. Accidental in the interior. Three birds seen in Stanislaus 
County, Sept. 19, 1913, by J. Mailliard. 

Authorities.—Gambel (Pelecanus fuscus), Jour. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., ser. 2, 
i., 1849, 227 (Calif.); Wellett, Condor, vol. xii., 1910, pp. 171, 173 (breeding colonies on 
Anacapa and San Miguel ids.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 40 
(s. Calif. ids.; habits, etc.); Oberholser, Auk, vol. xxxv., 1918, p. 62 (syst.; nomencl.). 


SYMBOL alike of the sea’s strangeness and of her prodigality, there 
is perhaps no other bird whose appearance would so perfectly assure 
the landsman that he had arrived as this uncouth Adonis of the ocean- 
front, the California Brown Pelican. We will concede, without argument, 
that the bird is impossible. It is an incarnate jest, if you will, a piece of 
apprentice work perpetrated by one of the lesser divinities of Nature’s 
workshop. An adobe artist with an imagination like Doré has taken a 
perfectly good goose and tricked it out with a huge fish-net which it is 
pledged forever to wear, and the public is expected to laugh at the poor 
bird’s plight. But somehow we do not laugh. The bird has accepted 
its lot with such becoming meekness; it is able to view life with such 
imperturbable gravity; above all, it has met its situation with such tran- 
scendent skill, that we can only wonder and applaud. 

For what, after all, is more adroit than the flight of a Pelican? With 
three or four leisurely strokes the bird acquires a momentum with which 
he can glide with incredible accuracy just above the surface of the water. 
Or if he is hunting at a higher level, the bird is able to check his momentum, 
to put on brakes midair, in less than the distance of his own length, and 
to plunge with the speed of thought upon his finny prey. If the run of 


I9Q7I 


The California Brown Pelican 


fish is good, this feathered hydroplane heaves to upon the water. With 
beak held perpendicularly, or nearly so, he surveys the depths with tiny 
beady eyes, or thrusts again and again with a stroke as swift and sure as 
that of Cousin Ardea, he of the strong spear. 

The Pelican, too, is the pledge and symbol of Nature’s bounty. He 
is a wholesaler. —Two—six—a dozen fish at a catch—or a bite—it is all 
one to him; and he is prepared to take care of an enormous haul. They 
are necessarily small fish which are handled by such means,—surface- 
feeders which the human ‘“‘trade’’ scarcely begrudges. Pelicano is, per- 


Taken on Anacapa Photo by the Author 
THE CHARGE OF THE HEAVY ESCADRILLE 


force, a peddler too. He has to share his good fortune, whether willingly 
or no, with certain light-fingered gentry, purse-snatchers and hangers-on. 
The Heermann Gull is the worst of pickpockets. One of these birds will 
attach himself to a Pelican and idle about by the hour watching his patron 
and victim, and hurrying up to snatch a share, even from the very throat 
of his host, whenever there is booty. Western Gulls sometimes indulge 
this practice, but they are less adept, and even, I have fancied, a little 
ashamed. 


1972 


The California Brown Pelican 


Gifford, who gives 
us an interesting ac- 
count! of their habits 
in the Galapagos Islands, 
says: “It was not un- 
usual to see several Nod- 
dies fluttering excitedly 
about a pelican when 
it was fishing, and often 
sitting on its head while 
it swallowed the fish. 
Once I saw two on a 
pelican’s head at one 
time. The pelicans never 
seemed to be annoyed, 
nor did the Noddies ever 
get any fish as far as 
I could see. Dusky 
Shearwaters would oc- 
casionally fly about a 
pelican, apparently to 
pester it, for one day 
I observed a pelican take 
refuge on top of a cliff 
from a number of them.”’ 

According to the 
same authority, these 
pelicans do not confine 
themselves to a fish diet. 
“On several occasions 
they were observed to 


pick up the bodies of Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by D. R. Dickey 


E THE ANTEDELUVIANS 
large birds, after we had 


skinned them and thrown them overboard. In one case an immature 
pelican had got the bodies of two Galapagos Hawks into its pouch, 
and was unable to swallow them. Likewise it was unable to fly on account 
of the weight. It was probably grateful when we rowed up to it where 
it was sitting on the water, and removed the impedimenta, for it flew away 
joyfully enough afterward.” 

And the following bit from a quaint old account, attributed to Father 
Torquemada,? assures us that the Pelicano has ever been a useful bird. 


1 Proc. Calif. Acad. Sciences, 4th Series, Vol. II., pt. I., pp. 107-110. 
2?As published in ‘“‘The Habitable World Described,” 1788-1795, and excerpted by Frank S. Daggett, The 
Condor, Vol. X., July, 1908, p. 136. 1973 


The California Brown Pelican 


The feathered inhabitants of ‘“‘Monte-Rey’ are being enumerated: 
“And alfo a particular fpecies of gulls, that live on pilchards and other 
fifh, equal in fize to a very large goofe, their bill a foot long, with long legs 
refembling a ftork [badly mixed here, Ed.], their beak and feet like thofe 
of a goofe. They have a vaft craw, which in fome hangs down like the 
leather bottles ufed in Peru for carrying water, in which craws they 
carry what they catch to their young ones. The friendly difpofition 
of thefe birds is fomething furprifing, for they affift one another when 
fick or wounded, and bring that bird provifion that is unable to fearch 
for it. The Indians profit by this; for when they want a difh of fifh, 
they will wound and tie a gull to a particular {pot, conceal themfelves, 
and, when they think all the provifion is brought which other gulls de- 
figned, they advance and feize the contribution: fuch are the myfterious 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by the Author 
NESTING COLONY IN LEPTOSYNE “GROVE” 


ways of Providence for the fupport of his creatures!’’ Fortunately, also, 
“‘Providence”’ has erased the name of ‘‘Poor Lo”’ from the list of Pelicano’s 
pensioners. 

When the pouch is full, or when a turn of the tide sends the quarry 


1974 


puvysy edeoruy uo uaye yp, 
Va “MC sa‘ F Lol ty otuddor ‘ydvavopoyd v MOLT 
Jvoul lof SUIYOO]| Ajpa.insse SI []95) UIIISI AA UL 
Aposerly, suipusduy 


The California Brown Pelican 


om oe 


Seas 5) 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by the Author 
TAKING THE AIR 


down for a season, the birds haul out on a sand-bar or other lonely spot 
and ruminate. Here they stand in solemn companies with bills depressed, 
for the weight of these members is quite too great to permit of their 
being carried incessantly at right angles; and here they survey an ap- 
proaching stranger like myopic grandfathers peering over an array of 
befogged spectacles. Or else, if the way is quite clear, the Pelican turns 
his head about and lays his bill comfortably along his back for a snooze; 
or else, in the last stage of relaxation, he squats upon the ground and 
disposes of both neck and bill in a jack-knife fold which rests upon the 
back. 

If the casual acquaintance with these fowls permitted by shore-line 
loiterings is seductive, a visit to their haunts at nesting time is rewarding 
in the extreme. Not elsewhere, save upon some separate planet, may 
the observer hope to obtain such an impression of the utterly different. 
Indeed, a Pelican rookery at the height of the season is a chapter from 
the Mesozoic age—nothing less. Here man is the outlaw, the anomaly; 
and, save for the dire portent of his presence, life in a pelicanry moves off 
in obedience to alien standards. Its very dimensions seem grotesque and 
unreal. There is no point of contact with previous experience; and the 
visitor, whether fortified by scientific purpose, or urged only by the vulgar 
curiosity which afflicts our kind, knows that he is an outsider, an intruder, 


1975 


The California Brown Pelican 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by the Author 
NEST AND EGGS OF CALIFORNIA BROWN PELICAN 


a companion of gulls and ravens, before whom the law-abiding citizenry 
of this elder world stands silently reproachful. 


Taken on Ana- 
capa Island 
Photo by 


D. R. Dickey 


MATERNAL DUTIES 


197 


The California Brown Pelican 


IB, AE Bs 
Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
CONGRATULATIONS! MRS. O’FLAHERTY. SHURE, OI JIST HEARD ABOUT THE TWINS 


The author pleads no more serious a purpose than an ological quest, 
and the securing of some of these pictures, to justify a brief exploitation of 
a province of this elder Eden; and (with consummate hypocrisy, if you 
will) he urges that such visits be mot repeated. For the truth is, Pelicans 
pay a fearful price—to the gulls—for any invasion—however intended- 
peaceful—of their colonies. A man is at best a potential marauder, and 
so long as his intentions are under suspicion, nests are uncovered and eggs 
grow cold or are snapped up by the predatory gulls. Indeed, your gull is 
the arch-hypocrite, and if his dupes, the brooding pelicans, make as though 
to return to their charges before the Larine devastation is complete, fresh 
alarms are raised. The wily gulls profess a mortal terror of man’s pres- 
ence, whereas their true aim is always to “‘beat him to it,’’ once a nest is 
uncovered. It is for this reason, and for this reason only, that I solemnly 
urge either a substantial reduction of the gull population of our coasts, or 
else a practically absolute protection of all the major colonies of nesting 
sea-birds. 


1977 


The California Brown Pelican 


But if you insist upon turning buccaneer “‘just for this once,’’ man 
the thwarts and help us pull this gear from the launch over to the landing 
place. A benevolent Government, under necessity of maintaining an 
automatic light upon this dangerous headland, has provided a crude 
system of ladders whereby the intrepid, albeit camera-laden, may scale 
this 200-foot wall of basalt. The top of the island, once gained, is sudden- 
ly level. There is nothing visible save grass and sea and birds—these and © 
quaint groves of a palm-like vegetable under whose scanty shadows the 
pelicans are huddled. It is incredible! a bird squatting upon a nest which _ 
rests upon the ground, and yet looms half as high as a palm tree! The 
illusion is perfect; but the “‘tree”’ is Leptosyne gigantea, a composite, which 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
BILL 


rises to a height of six or eight feet, and which supports on naked stems, 
two inches in diameter, a sudden crown of leaves, finely divided, like those 
of a carrot, and a few coarse yellow flowers. 

We unlimber our photographic gear, and dedicate a leather case to 


7978 


pueysy vedeoeuy uo uaye 7, 
day ‘YW pppuog sq ydvibojoyd v wos 
SUBII[Iq UMOIG BIULOFILE) fo WVAZLO 


polqns dav V 


The California Brown Pelican 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by Dickey 
PERSIMMONS, PRUNES, AND PRISMS 


such eggs as we may require, and then prepare to rush the colony for mass 
effects. Splendid! The whole earth seems to be in motion, and a thousand 
aeroplanes launch into the air. There is no noise of propellers nor yet of 
sputtering exhausts. Nature has perfected her models long since, and her 
motors meet the test of absolute silence. Pelicano, Model A, is a weird- 
looking craft, but a skyful of him is as efficient as so many swallows. 
There is no crashing of fusilages, and never an aileron impinges upon the 
rights of all that skyful. It is wonderful! awe-inspiring! It is only when 
the excitement has died down a little and the birds decide to settle again, 
that the show changes from grandeur to comedy. A pelican looking for a 
place to land is grotesque beyond the power of exaggeration. With legs 
spraddled out at divergent angles and heads drawn back, the birds are 
preparing for the inevitable, and you rather expect a series of crashes. 
The birds appear to also; but somehow no casualties result, and you come 
to suspect that it is just a pose intended to enhance the effect of a sur- 
prising deftness. 

Soon the ledges are lined with grave senators, and the birds gather in 
open places to view with impeccable decorum the ravages of the ruthless 
human bipeds. But, really, you know, it is not nearly so exciting to roba 


1979 


The California Brown Pelican 


colony of unresisting Quakers. Those bills might be terrible if they were 
plied in righteous indignation. The challenge of those great throats, if 
they were fiercely vocal, might rouse us to a corresponding fury. But 
this placidity is disarming. ‘‘I guess we’ve got enough, boys.” 

The nests are, some of them, amazingly large and high—doubtless 
the accumulations of succeeding seasons. Many I saw which were two or 
two and a half feet in height, while most of them were a foot or more. 
Some, however, were very scanty; and a few, mere handfuls of trash. The 
material used varied considerably, but might be described as a vegetable 
miscellany, with sticks, a few, or decayed stalks of the carrot-weed 
(Leptosyne gigantea) for a basis. While the birds evidently approve of the 
shade’afforded by the Leptosyne, the advantages of such shade are often 


Taken on Anacapa Island Photo by the Author 
u THE SOUTHEAST COLONY, FROM ABOVE 


offset by the difficulty which the birds experience in taking off; so that the 
most thick-set section of the carrot-weed was not occupied. It is notice- 
able, also, that the birds almost invariably face downhill in sitting— 
doubtless to facilitate taking off. 

At the time of our visit (March 8th, 1922), incubation was for the 
most part advanced, though fresh eggs were common enough for our 


79S0 


pueysy edeovuy uo uaye J, 


4oysn py ayi sq ydvibozoyg v WOT 


UO]OY ULY} JoSuPAyS SI YIN | 


HO Suryey, 


The California Brown Pelican 


modest requirement. Although usually described as ‘“‘white,”’ immaculate 
eggs of the California Brown Pelican are the exception. Indeed, the aspect 
of the eggs was singularly and unexpectedly varied. Fresh eggs were in 
most instances richly pigmented with continuous longitudinal streaks of 
dull reddish olive, evidently a direct derivative of blood. Often the point 
of origin of the streaking is quite one side of the apex of the egg; and as 
often the streaking ceases before reaching the smaller end. It is customary 
to call this streaking “blood marks,”’ and to remove it in preparing speci- 
mens for the cabinet. It is, rather, however, to be regarded as the primi- 
tive pigment, the precursor of oGrhodine, and we have preserved it 
religiously in the M. C. O. series as an exhibit of color-in-the-making. 

Most pelicans’ eggs soon become soiled; and as incubation ad- 
vances are of a dirty brown color, more or less glossy. The resultant 
shade is determined primarily by the relative cleanliness of the parent 
bird, and also to a lesser extent by the character of the nest lining. Two 
varieties of this artificially imposed color are worthy of special men- 
tion. First and rarest is a rich dark gray-green pigment, which is de- 
rived from contact with wet seaweed. I have seen this dyeing in process, 
and am of opinion that certain ingredients of the fucoid react upon the 
lime of the shell, so that a liquescent blister is raised, which in drying 
becomes a handsome and, apparently, permanent green. The other 
variety of coloring matter is supplied by crude oil, doubtless oftenest 
derived from the soiled plumage of the parent bird, but often, also, from 
blobs of oil adhering to seaweed and other floating vegetation. Of this 
type we have examples which are a nearly uniform brownish black. 

Elsewhere in these pages I have scouted the claim that eggs of 
northern sea-birds are ever “‘fishy,” or unfit for use as food. Candor 
compels me to confess that in the person of the California Brown Pelican’s 
egg, this theory has met its Waterloo. Twice I endeavored (in the only 
conclusive fashion) to defend my views, but the memory of those attempts 
is sufficient. I resign. The gulls can have ’em. 

So far, also, as mere gastronomics is concerned, the gulls can have 
the hairless squabs which issue from the eggs. A young pelican is not 
black, like a cormorant, but rather of a livid reddish brown—say, Zulu- 
color, as contrasted with Hottentot. However, the color has nothing 
to do with the flavor, and we expressly deny the rights of the gull to 
gastronomic discussion of either of them. 

Heigh ho! here we are on the top of the island yet, and the sun 
is sinking through its last octant. A smart breeze has sprung up from 
the north, and our launch has been compelled to anchor around on 
the south lee. There is nothing for it but to make our way over these 
cliffs with ropes. This is easy enough for mere humans, but cameras 


TQOST 


The Pacific Man-o’-war-bird 


and eggs are more ‘“‘persnickety.’”’ With their objections patiently sub- 
dued, we pass the cliffs and find, on the south talus slope below, another 
colony, some 200 pairs, of nesting pelicans. These must be the pioneers 
of the island, for only here do we find young birds. And it is natural 
enough, when you think of it, that the first comers should choose the 
south slopes, sunny and well-sheltered, though how they can abide 
this incredible cactus—vicious and ubiquitous—passes comprehension. 

Small colonies of these birds flourish (or languish) on Los Coronados 
Islands, just below our border. Of these Mr. Howell says:: ‘‘As the 
pelicans suffer much from the depredations of the gulls, fresh eggs from 
second layings may be found well into July. The young leave the nest 
when less than half the size of the parents, and it is quite ludicrous 
to watch the compact flocks of fluffy, solemn youngsters parading se- 
dately about the rookeries. When the primaries are quite well grown, 
they frequently hop off a shelf of rock into one of the many patches 
of cactus, and it is not unusual to encounter one literally bristling with 
spines. When able to fly, but before ever having tried to do so, they will 
sometimes take to the air at the approach of danger, and go careening 
out to sea on unsteady wings, then manage to turn, and come shooting 
back on the wind. They are unversed in the art of alighting, however, 
and sometimes hit the cliff full speed, which is the signal for every gull 
in sight to sail happily down to investigate the dying bird. When camped 
near the colonies, one may see a line or wedge of these great birds go 
silently by at any hour of the night, undoubtedly belated homecomers 
from some far fishing ground.”’ 


No. 400 
Pacific Man-o’-war-bird 


A. O. U. No. 128. Fregata minor palmerstoni (Gmelin). 

Synonyms.—FRIGATE-BIRD. PALMERSTON’S MAN-O’-WAR-BIRD. 

Description.—Adult male: General color black, with greenish or purplish 
gloss above; duller, sooty, below; tail of 12 feathers. Iris brown; bill light purplish 
blue in life, lightening in the middle, darker on tips; gular pouch, capable of enormous 
distension during breeding season, scarlet; bare space about eye purplish blue; feet 
carmine above, orange below. Adult female: Somewhat similar to male, but under- 
parts chiefly pure white; lesser and median wing-coverts, and hind-neck brown; ‘‘bill 
bluish horn-color; orbits and gular skin dark plumbeous with a tinge of violet.”’ Imma- 
ture birds resemble adult female, but have entire head and neck white, with upper 


1“ Birds of the Islands off the Coast of Southern California,’’ Pac. Coast Avifauna, No. 12, by Alfred Brazier 
Howell, 1917, p. 41. 


T1952 


The Pacific Man-o’-war-bird 


breast sooty. Length of adult about 965.2 (38.00); wing 640.1 (25.20); tail 450.9 
(17.75); bill 108 (4.25); tarsus 25.4 (1.00). 

Recognition Marks.—Gull size as to body; masterly flight, with plumage 
black or chiefly black and deeply forked tail, distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: In colonies; a frail platform 
of sticks or twigs, laid in low bushes, cactus patches, or on the ground. Egg: 1, 
less commonly 2; chalky white or pale yellow, smooth or roughened by calcareous 
overlay. Av. size 69.5 x 47.4 (2.74 x 1.366). Season: Feb.—March. 

Range of Fregata minor.—Tropical portions of the Pacific and Indian oceans. 


Range of F. m. palmerstoni.—North central Pacific Ocean, breeding upon the 
Galapagos Islands, islands off the coast of Mexico, and in the mid-Pacific, Laysan, 
Marcus Island, ete. 


Occurrence in California.—An occasional wanderer to our coasts at any 
season; many records. 


Authorities.—Newberry (Tachypetes aquilus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 106 (coast of Calif.); W. K. Fisher, Bull. U. S. Fish Comm., vol. xxiii., pt. 3, 
1906, p. 769 (desc. of breeding colony on Laysan Id.); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 
7, 1912, p. 21 (status in s. Calif.); Oberholser, Auk, vol. xxxiv., 1917, p. 468 (syst., 
nomencl.). 


INASMUCH as the recorded appearances of the Man-o’-war-bird 
along the coast of California number less than a score, the observer is 
likely to boast his good fortune for a twelvemonth, and regard the honor 
as a sort of decoration pro meritu ornithologica, to be worn on state 
occasions ever after. The author won his (quite undeserved) ‘‘Order 
of the Frigate-bird”’ near Santa Barbara on the 12th of August, 1912, 
and took his second degree on the 24th day of the same month, in com- 
pany with that bird-lover par excellence, Bradford Torrey, of sainted 
memory. On each occasion one got only a quick sense of regal power and 
ease before the vision vanished, lost in the eye of the gale. These north- 
ern wanderers appear to be for the most part two-year-old birds, showing 
a maximum of white in the plumage, and having, because of their im- 
maturity, no part in the fierce domestic doings of the tropics. 

Without doubt, the Man-o’-war-bird is the Master Wild Thing 
a-wing. While its expanse of wing may not be so impressive as that of 
the Albatross, and its speed possibly not equal to that of some of our 
Swifts, its grace and ease and mastery of the tumultuous air currents are 
without close parallel. Not only does it soar at times at such sublime 
heights as to appear a mere speck against the tropic sky, or to pass from 
sight altogether, but it can launch itself from an almost incredible eleva- 
tion to snatch a flying-fish in midair, or to seize some object just below 
the surface of the water. And so nicely is this feat calculated, that 
observers testify it is accomplished without causing an appreciable 
ripple on the water’s surface. In like manner, the bird’s thirst is quenched 


1983 


The Black-footed Albatross 


at some fresh-water pond or brackish pool, by a towering dive and dip, 
which would make shipwreck of this feathered projectile if it were not 
done with consummate skill. And not only can the Frigate fly swiftly, 
but so perfectly has it learned to adjust itself to the wind that it is able to 
maintain itself for hours at a time without change of position, and with- 
out apparent effort other than that of the automatic opening and shutting 
of the long, forked tail. Indeed, one observer in Florida claims that 
they sleep in this position, and declares that he has caught them by hand 
as they lay asleep on the wind near the top of a mangrove tree. The 
story may not be true, but it fits the appearances so nearly that its 
narrator could get away with it; and that, after all, is the instructive 
thing. 

Man-o’-war-birds have yielded to the temptation which always 
besets the gifted; viz., to live at the expense of their fellows. They 
secure only a portion of their food by direct capture. For the rest they 
prey upon other birds, especially those equipped for taking large catches 
of fish, wholesalers, as it were, like the Boobies and the Pelicans. It 
is difficult to see why a sturdy, sharp-beaked fisherman like the Gannet 
should consent to share the product of its lawful toil with this pirate; 
but the Boobies are not the only bipeds who are impelled to pay tribute 
to a sharp eye and imperious gestures. 


No. 401 
Black-footed Albatross 


A. O. U. No. 81. Diomedea nigripes Audubon. 

Synonyms.—GoonEy. GoNny. BROWN GOONEY. 

Description.—Adult: General color sooty brown, lighter (grayer) below, except 
on throat and chest; space all around bill grayish white, thence shading through grayish 
brown on sides of head and upper throat; anterior half of upper and lower eyelids 
dusky; posterior half white; that of the lower lid produced backward and downward 
as a decided white patch; lighter, nearly white, about base of tail; feathers of upper- 
parts tipped with lighter gray, as though faded; primaries black with yellow shafts; 
tail-feathers blackish with white shafts, except on terminal portions. Bill dark reddish 
brown; feet black. Young birds: Like adult, but tail-coverts sooty black. Length 
of male 762-914.4 (30.00-36.00); wing 515 (20.27); tail 144 (5.57); bill length 108.3 
(4.265), width at base 31.7 (1.25); tarsus 91 (3.58) (Loomis). Females average less. 

General Range.—North Pacific Ocean. Breeds on islands northwest of Hawaii 
and on the Marshall Islands. Wanders to the coasts of China and Japan and on the 
American side from southern Alaska to the Tropic of Cancer. 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; sooty plumage of adults and young; red- 
dish brown bill; white face; black feet. 


1984 


The Black-footed Albatross 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nests: In colonies; single egg laid 
on bare sand or rock. Egg: White; often spotted or stained at the larger end with 
dull rufous (chestnut or russet). Av. size, 111 x68.1 (4.37x2.68) (Richards); index 
61.3. Season: November. 

Occurrence in California.—Found irregularly upon the open ocean and 
irrespective of season along the entire coast. Specimen taken on Humboldt Bay in 
the summer of 1917 by C. I. Clay. 

Authorities.—Vigors (Diomedea fuliginosa), Zool. Voy. ‘‘Blossom,”’ 1839, 
p. 39 (Monterey); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. v., 1910, p. 332, pls. 94, 95; Howell, 
Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 30 (status off coast s. Calif.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. 
Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. 2, pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 71 (crit.; syst.); Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., 
Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. I, pls. (life hist.; desc. nest and eggs, etc.). 


THE SOLACE of the ocean voyager—at least after novels and 
shuffle-board have lost their charm—is the sight of the Gooneys. These 
tireless watchers of the deep adopt our ship, almost without our knowing 
it, some thirty miles from shore, where the gulls abandon her to her 
wilful course across the vast Pacific. For the bare hope of refuse from 
the cook’s galley, they will follow the ship for hours and days together, 
but they count it no hardship. It is sport, rather. Instead of plodding 
wearily in the wake, they throw great circles of flight about the belea- 
guered vessel, and seem thus in sheer wantonness to mock the labor of 
steam. Excelled in powers of flight by none, and rivalled only by the 
Man-o’-war-bird (Fregata minor palmerstont, of the Pacific), the Alba- 
tross is at once the marvel and the despair of human attainment; attain- 
ment not merely by way of imitation—that were impossible—but in the 
matter of understanding. How does he do it? Apparently by a mere 
effort of will, certainly without visible propulsion, the bird skims low over 
the water, eluding with consummate skill the unevenly-crested waves, or 
else shoots aloft without a stroke upon those rigidly outstretched pinions. 

Yet in spite of the fact that all of Ocean’s untrammeled wastes are 
before him, and that abundant viands, fish and squids and sea-faring 
crustaceans, await his pleasure, this rover is singularly at our mercy. 
The tragedy of the Ancient Mariner was first of all a tragedy of bird-life. 
The confidence of an Albatross was wantonly betrayed and all the mis- 
fortune followed—in the story. In point of fact the betrayal, though 
not the retribution, has been a thousand times repeated. On certain 
ships it is considered great sport to shoot ““Mollymawks’’; and pump 
guns are far more destructive than crossbows. 

But that is not the worst. Having the sea before him, the Albatross 
could, of course, let us alone if we were unworthy of confidence; but we 
have discovered his breeding haunts upon certain islands of the mid- 
Pacific. Here is what happened in one instance in the case of a related 
species, the Laysan Albatross, Diomedea immutabilis. It was on Marcus 


1985 


The Black-footed Albatross 


Island (Lat. 24° 14’ N., Long. 154° E.), for a time under control of the 
Japanese, but later relinquished to the United States. ‘‘Disappointed 
in not being able to find guano by their crude methods, the Japanese 
developed a scheme to make a marketable commodity of the Goonies, 
by killing them and boiling them down in a great kettle to form a fer- 
tilizer, which they shipped to Japan, saving, however, the long wing- 
quills to sell as eagle-feathers for the decoration of women’s hats; and the 
breast feathers were plucked off and sold by the pound. Under this 
treatment the colony has greatly dwindled, and in 1902 the birds were 
only killed for their feathers.’’! 

In May, 1902, Mr. Walter K. Fisher with the U.S. Fish Commission 
steamer Albatross found the Black-footed and Laysan Albatrosses 
breeding upon the island of Laysan in immense numbers, variously 
estimated at from one to two million adults. His account of their 
nesting habits, 
together with 
their grotesque 
dances, or cake 
walks, reads like 
a passage from 
the Arabian 
Nights.2_ Accord- 
ing to this au- 
thority, the 
Albatrosses con- 
sume about ten 
months of the 
year in nesting. 
The single egg is 
laid near the 
middle of No- 
vember and is 
not hatched till 
February. The 
young require to 
be fed for six 
months before 
venturing 
abroad, so that it is not until the Ist of September that the hard-working 
parents may take a two months’ vacation. 


Taken on Laysan Island, T. H. Photo by Walter K. Fisher 
ALBATROSSES ON LAYSAN: THE INTERVIEW 


1The Auk, Vol. XXII., Jan., 1905, p. 99; Review of Bryan's ‘‘A Monograph of Marcus Island.” 
°2W.K. Fisher, Habits of the Laysan Albatross, Auk, Jan., 1904, p. I ff. 


7950 


The Black-footed Albatross 


It is, therefore, on account of the exactions of family cares upon the 
adults that immature birds, or “brown goonies,’’ are much more fre- 
quently seen upon the high seas. 

“By Executive Order No. 1019, dated February 3, 1909, the ‘Hawaiian Islands 
Reservation’ was established. This national bird preserve includes Laysan, Necker, 
and adjacent small islands, upon which great numbers of pelagic birds nest, such as 
Albatrosses, Shearwaters, and Terns. Persistent rumors have circulated in the news- 
papers of late, to the effect that Japanese were planning to land on the rookeries to 
destroy every bird obtainable, the feathers to be saved for various commercial purposes 
and the bodies to be made into fertilizer. The fact that not a few species, which are 
confined in the breeding season to these small islands, would thus be exterminated, makes 
the establishment of this preserve with little doubt the most important step, from a 
strictly ornithological standpoint, in the history of bird preservation in this country. 
The annihilation of species was threatened’ (The Condor, March, 1909). 


The fears expressed in the foregoing paragraph were unhappily 
realized that same season. A party of feather-hunters, Japanese, but 
acting under the orders of a certain dissolute German who had formerly 
been connected with the 
guano industry, landed 
on Laysan and proceed- 
ed to slaughter its feath- 
ered inhabitants. In 
January of the following 
year the U. S. revenue 
cutter Thetis visited the 
distant scene, found and 
captured the poachers, 
twenty-three of them, 
and returned to Hono- 
lulu with the miscreants 
and their booty, consist- 
ing of the plumes of 
upwards of quarter of a 
million birds. A subse- 
quent expedition report- 
ed on the havoe 
wrought:! 

“Here on every side 


O 0 Taken on Laysan Island, T. H. Photo by W. K. Fisher 
are bones bleaching in THE DUET 


the sun, showing where 
the poachers have piled the bodies of the birds as they stripped them of 
wings and feathers. In the old open guano shed were seen the remains of 


1 Bulletin No. 42, Biol. Surv., 1912. 


1987 


The Black-footed Albatross 


hundreds and possibly thousands of wings which were placed there but 
never cured for shipping, as the marauders were interrupted in their work. 

“An old cistern back of one of the buildings tells a story of cruelty 
that surpasses anything else done by these heartless, sanguinary pirates, 
not excepting the practice of cutting the wings from living birds and leav- 
ing them to die of hemorrhage. In this dry cistern the living birds were 
kept by hundreds to slowly starve to death. In this way the fatty tissue 
lying next to the skin was used up, and the skin was left quite free from 
grease, so that it required little or no cleaning during preparation. 

‘Many other revolting sights, such as the remains of young birds that 
had been left to starve and birds with broken legs and deformed beaks, 
were to be seen. Killing clubs, nets, and other implements used by these 
marauders were lying all about. Hundreds of boxes to be used in ship- 
ping the bird-skins were packed in an old building. It was very evident 
they intended to carry on their slaughter as long as the birds lasted.”’ 

Professor William Alanson Bryan adds: ‘“‘This wholesale killing 
has had an appalling effect on the colony. No one can estimate the 
thousands, perhaps hundred of thousands, of birds that have been wilfully 
sacrificed on Laysan to the whim of fashion and the lust for gain. It is 
conservative to say that fully one-half the number of birds of both species 
of Albatross that were so abundant everywhere in 1903 have been killed. 
The colonies that remain are in a sadly decimated condition. Often a 
colony of a dozen or more birds will not have a single young. Over a 
large part of the island, in some sections a hundred acres in a place, that 
ten years ago were thickly inhabited by Albatrosses, not a single bird 
remains, while heaps of the slain lie as mute testimony of the awful 
slaughter of these beautiful, harmless, and, without doubt, beneficial 
inhabitants of the high seas.”’ 

In 1913 our Mr. George Willett was commissioned by the U. S. 
Bureau of Biological Survey to visit Laysan, to report upon the Alba- 
trosses, which he found to be slowly recovering in strength; and to destroy 
the contraband plumage, of which he burned eight tons. 

Our Nipponese friends must pardon us if we continue to deplore 
such episodes as these, until such time as we have substantial proof that 
a repetition will be forever impossible. 

“Ah! well aday! What evil looks 
Had I from old and young! 
Instead of the cross, the Albatross 
About my neck was hung.” 


1958 


The Short-tailed Albatross 


No. 402 


Short-tailed Albatross 


A. O. U. No. 82. Diomedea albatrus Pallas. 

Description.—Adult: Body plumage white; head and neck white, more or 
less washed, especially behind, with tawny yellow; wings and tail sooty gray or dusky, 
with admixture of white in varying proportions; exposed portions of flight-feathers 
and rectrices chiefly dusky; no re-entrance of feathers on sides of mandible; outline of 
feathering at base of bill nearly even on culmen and sides; bill pale reddish yellow; 
feet livid flesh-color, or pale bluish, drying darker. Young: Entire plumage sooty 
brown, lighter (inclining to sooty gray) on chin and belly. Length of adult about 
914.4 (3 feet); wing 508 (20.00); tail 146.1 (5.75); bill 127-152.4 (5.00-6.00) in length; 
depth at base 50.8 (2.00); outline of culmen concave. 

Recognition Marks.—Eagle size; white plumage, large beak of adult; nearly 
uniform sooty plumage of immature bird without white ‘‘face’’ (but chin whitish). 

Nesting.—No authentic description. Egg: Dull white stained heavily, or not, 
at larger end with russet. 

General Range.—North Pacific Ocean from Lower California and China to 
Bering Strait. Breeding grounds unknown. (Evidence is lacking that eggs from the 
Bonin Islands represent any other species than D. immutabilis.) 

Occurrence in California.—Of common occurrence well off-shore, presumably 
along the entire coast. Several records of occurrence off Monterey; has been seen on 
San Diego Bay, Monterey Bay, and San Francisco Bay. 

Authorities.—Lawrence (Diomedea brachyura), in Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. 
Surv., vol. ix., 1858, p. 822 (‘‘coast of Calif.’’); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. v., 1910, 
p. 326, pl. 92; Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 17 (status in s. Calif.); 
Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 74 (crit.; syst.). 


“At length did cross an Albatross,” 


NO ONE who has not suffered the pangs of solitude, or the worse 
pangs of ill-assorted company long endured, knows with what glad acclaim 
a fellow mortal may be hailed. In a cityful we should not deign him a 
glance, this brother in jeans, but here at the edge of the wilderness, this 
uninhabitable waste through which we have been plodding for weeks on 
end, a merest man seems a creature wrought on heroic lines, a very demi- 
god. He is for us an authentic outpost of life and a dear pledge of that 
wholesome, myriad-pressing, human contact for which our hearts have 
come to ache. So upon the trackless ocean, the sight of a bird brings to 
the watcher a sudden electric thrill. Our eyes devour the vagabond with 
quick apprehension, and there springs up within us a world-conquering, 
class-obliterating sense of fellowship. 

“As it had been a Christian soul, 
We hatled it in God’s name.” 


Those who have studied pelagic species just off shore—and there are 


TOS9 


The Short-tailed Albatross 


no more fertile fields for such study than those afforded by several of the 
gregarious species of these ocean wanderers—can form little conception of 
the average desolation of the oceanic wastes. Dr. T. W. Richards, an 
experienced and zealous observer, gave us the most adequate expression 
of it when he testified! that during a voyage of 12,000 miles, from San 
Francisco to Yokohama via Honolulu and Melbourne, with the exception 
of the waters adjacent to Australia, where these birds abound, he saw 
not over one hundred pelagic birds all told,—one bird every hundred 
miles! Yet in all probability ten million albatrosses and a hundred mil- 
lion shearwaters and a billion petrels were at that very time scouring the 
seven seas. It takes a good many sea-birds to go around if all seafaring 
men are to have a comforting glimpse of one now and then. 

Truth to tell, the Tubinares are more prevalent in those latitudes of 
which the poet testified when he said: 

“And a good south wind sprung up behind.” 


Wind is a prime requisite of Diomedeine happiness, and it is amid the 
roaring Forties of the Antarctic seas that these birds appear to best ad- 
vantage. Every Albatross has, of course, adequate means of propulsion, 
a virtual “‘auxiliary engine,” capable of vibrating the bird’s enormous 
“planes,” to cover a flaw in the wind, or to execute a quick movement; 
but literal sailing, or gliding upon the wind, without propulsion, is its ordi- 
nary method. The stouter the gale the more certain the bird’s advance 
against it, for nature has taught the bird a subtle alchemy whereby it can 
resolve the forces of the wind so that the upthrust plus gravity much more 
than balances the resistance of the onsweep, to the end that the bird rides 
splendidly against the wind without other effort than that of holding the 
wings at a certain angle. This claim was loudly scouted once, but more 
attentive observation has abundantly confirmed it. It is the principle 
of stream lining, and though no aéronautical engineer claims to have 
mastered it in practice, the bird’s secrets are being endangered. 
“And round and round it flew.” 

Great circles of flight not only assist the Albatross in covering more 
“ground,” but apparently enable it to utilize with least effort the pressure 
of the wind. For lack of objects of comparison, one finds it difficult to 
estimate the velocity attained by these speed-kings, yet they will weave 
to and fro across the wake of a vessel, or throw circles around it, which 
cast shame upon the mightiest efforts of men,—and all without flapping 
a wing. It is in making a sharp turn that the professional skill of the 
Albatross appears to best advantage. Every one knows by now that 
in making a turn the aviator tilts, or ‘‘banks,’’ his machine in the direc- 


1The Condor, Vol. XI., Jan., 1900, p. 5. 


L990 


The Short-tailed Albatross 


tion of turning. The sharper the turn the sharper the tilt. It is declared 
that the Albatross can accomplish an absolute turn; that is, by assuming 
the perpendicular, with one wing-tip in the water and the other pointed 
to the zenith, it can reverse its direction instantly without allowance for 
strain. But while the Albatross is a good sailor, he isa poor oarsman. When 
the wind fails, the birds are becalmed, and they sit the waters, it may be 
for days at a time, rather than try to endure the exertion of a labored 
flight. Indeed, in default of wind, the bird finds great difficulty in rising 
from the water at all, even though assisted by powerful strokes of the feet. 
Doubtless Coleridge erred when he said of his avian hero: 
“Tn mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, 
It perched for vespers nine,” 


for the Albatross, unlike the harbor gull, is no halyard loafer; but no 
doubt on occasion 

“Tt ate the food it ne’er had eat,”’ 
in what fashion we may learn from Dr. Richards’ illuminating account:! 

“To the ornithologist on shipboard, the most interesting period is 
just after meal hour, when the cooks are clearing out the ‘galley.’ Ever 
on the alert, no suitable morsel escapes the hungry horde, and it is won- 
derful how accurately they can pick out the ‘wheat from the chaff,’ no 
second glance being given to the odds and ends unfit for food. But with 
all their eagerness to be first at the feast, the prizes go to the ones that 
can stop and alight the quickest. And most of them make a bad mess of 
it: swooping rapidly to the coveted spot, they find it difficult to check 
their speed, and many have to pass and circle back again. With those 
more fortunate, or expert, wings are thrown suddenly back, the tail is 
wide-spread and depressed, and—a most comical effect—the broad, 
webbed feet are expanded and thrust out forward, exactly as a skater 
digs his heels in the ice to stop his headway. Once on the water, the 
wings are kept partly expanded and raised high over the back, the wind’s 
levitation thus bearing most of the weight. Actually, the birds now 
walk on the water, paddling with the big feet quite sufficing to lift the bodies 
clear and, gulping food rapidly as they go, the whole performance is most 
grotesque. With all this excitement, there is no noise; in a few moments 
the last scrap has disappeared, a hundred wings are extended, and, with 
a final ‘push,’ each bird rises lightly to windward, resuming his tireless 
vigil in our wake.” 

Of the Short-tailed Albatross in particular, we may only say that it 
occasionally appears off our shores—perhaps oftener and at nearer range 
than any other species; that it enjoys a more northerly range than any 
other species; and that it breeds on certain of the smaller islands off the 


1 Condor, Jan.-Feb., 1909, pp.7-8. 


IQQT 


The Fulmars 


coast of eastern Asia. The best-known breeding stations are—or were— 
upon the Bonin Islands, which lie some 500 miles southeast of Japan 
and are administered by the Japanese Government. Concerning the 
treatment accorded to her feathered wards, Nippon’s confession (when 
she is moved to confession) must be, 


“And I had done a hellish thing. 


’ 


No. 403 


Fulmar 


No. 403a Pacific Fulmar 

A. O. U. No. 86b. Fulmarus glacialis glupischa Stejneger. 

Synonyms.—GLupiscH (Russian name). MOoOLLEMAWK. Mortry Mawk. 
WHALE-BIRD. 

Description.— Adult, light phase: Head and neck all around, rump, and under- 
parts white; remaining upperparts (the mantle) ashy gray or neutral gray, blackening 
on exposed quills. Adult, dark phase, and Immature: Entire plumage neutral gray or 
sooty plumbeous. Every gradation between these two plumages exists, the commonest 
being neutral gray above, lightening on head, neck, and rump, with remaining plumage 
(except the lores) white. The lighter birds are probably older, and the whole ‘‘phase”’ 
scheme may resolve itself into a matter of age. Bill yellow tinged with greenish; feet 
yellowish gray. Downy young: white. Length (of 10 Monterey specimens) 435.9 (17.16); 
wing 301 (11.85); bill, length 36.1 (1.42), depth at base 16.7 (.66); tarsus 48.8 (1.92). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size; but more naturally comparable to gull; 
ashy gray and white, or bluish sooty, plumage; pelagic habits; stouter bill and more 
robust proportions (especially of head) as compared with Shearwaters. 

Nesting.— Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies. Egg: Single, oval 
or elongate ovate, of rough chalky texture; white; laid on bare rock or in crevice in 
cliff. Av. size 71.1 x 50.8 (2.80 x 2.00). Season: May 15-June 15. 

Range of Fulmarus glacialis—North Atlantic and North Pacific oceans. 

Range of F. g. glupischa.—Breeds at least upon the Commander Islands; winters 
from the Aleutians south to Lower California. 

Occurrence in California.—Common in migrations and in winter upon the 
ocean, at least from Monterey southward and at varying distances from shore. Occa- 
sionally visits harbors, as San Francisco Bay and Santa Barbara (several records). 
Found upon the fishing banks 60 miles from San Pedro by the thousands (Howell) 

Authorities.—Cooper (Fulmarus pacificus), Am. Nat., vol. iv., 1871, p. 758 
(off Monterey); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. iv., 1909, p. 270, pl. 78; Howell, Pac. 
Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 30 (s. Calif. ids.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 
Aviles pts 2) NO 12, 1918, ps 87 (crits, Syst). 


WHILE Fulmars of both species are of regular occurrence in fall and 
winter along our coasts, a first-hand knowledge of them is not often 
vouchsafed to any but fishermen whose work takes them to offshore banks, 
or at least outside the kelp-line. Occasionally, however, these birds do 


L092 


The Fulmars 


venture into harbors. Willett has taken them from the terminal of the 
Los Angeles trunk sewer at Hyperion. Mr. C. H. Anthony once pursued 
and captured by hand in San Diego Bay a specimen in apparently sound 
condition, too stupid or too confiding to escape by flight. Mr. White and 
I saw six Fulmars, all in the dark phase of plumage, from Stearns Wharf, 
at Santa Barbara, on the 23rd of December, 1911. They presented a sin- 
gularly stolid appearance as they sat the water with bills nearly level or 
slightly down-turned, and floated within thirty feet of us. 

The veteran ornithologist, Mr. A. W. Anthony, made a careful study 
of the Fulmars on a well-known fishing-bank ten miles west of Point 
Loma, and we are indebted to his report! for the following facts: 

Fulmars are usually found associated with Shearwaters, especially 
with Puffinus opisthomelas, though in much smaller numbers, usually in the 
proportion of about one to fifty. They have much the same habit of 
flying close to the water, with alternating flap and sail, and with the 
plane of the wings inclined sharply. There is, indeed, little to distinguish 
Fulmars from Shearwaters, save the shorter, less pointed wings, and the 
stouter proportions of the body. 

The staple food of Fulmars is the jelly-fish; and their occurrence in 
winter is pretty largely determined by the relative abundance of Meduse. 
The caloric value of this ration is very slight, to atone for which the birds 
are obliged to consume enormous quantities. A Fulmar, discovering a 
medusa of a certain giant species, will alight beside it and gorge itself 
until it is unable to rise from the water. 

Fish, however, vary the Fulmar’s diet, and no sort of animal food is 
rejected. ‘‘Unlike the Shearwaters, they seldom pass a craft without 
turning aside to at least make a circuit about it before flying on. If the 
vessel is a fishing sloop sounding on the banks, the chances are in favor 
of the Shearwaters being forgotten and allowed to disappear in the dis- 
tance while the Fulmar settles lightly down on the water within a few 
yards of the fisherman. The next Fulmar that passes will, after having 
made the regulation circuit, join the first until within a few minutes a 
flock of six or eight of these most graceful and handsome Petrels have 
collected, dancing about on the waves as light and buoyant as corks. 
As the lines are hauled up after a successful sound, the long string of often 
twenty to thirty golden-red fish [rock cod] are seen through the limpid 
water while still several fathoms in depth, and great excitement prevails. 
Any Fulmars that have grown uneasy and have started out on the 
periodical circuit of the craft immediately alight a few yards to windward. 
Those that are on the water and have drifted away hasten to the spot 
with wings outspread and feet pattering along on the water.” 


“The Auk,” Vol. XII., April, 1895, p. 100-105. 


L993 


The Fulmars 


Some of the fish burst upon reaching the surface, through the relief 
of pressure, and upon such hapless floaters the Fulmars fall voraciously. 
First the eyes and then the entrails are eaten, and the greedy birds will 
defend themselves with spirit against the envious Herring Gulls, or 
even for a time against the Short-tailed Albatross himself. Detached 
bits of flesh are followed to a depth of eighteen inches; but below this 
depth, even though assisted by half-open wings, the Fulmar’s buoyant 
plumage will not permit it to go. 

Full-fed birds may be easily captured, and when placed on deck are, 
like most Tube-noses, unable to find sufficient fairway for flight. In 
this plight they hasten with upraised wings to the rail, and proceed to 
lighten the ship by disposing of the contents of the stomach. Their 
actions in such circumstances are so like those of seasick landsmen as to 
be extremely amusing. The Petrel has, however, a very forgiving—or 
forgetting—spirit. When assisted over the rail, he will proceed to fill 
up again as though nothing had happened. 

Of the bird’s occurrence in its breeding haunts on the Commander 
Islands, Stejneger writes:! ‘The ‘Glupisch’ is one of the commonest sum- 
mer visitors to the islands, and breeds in enormous numbers in suitable 
places, that is to say, on high and steep rocky bluffs and promontories 
boldly rising out of the sea 300 to 800 feet high, and I have spent hours 
under their rookeries listening to their whinnying voice and watching 
their high and elegant flight in sailing out and in and around the cracked 
rocks like bees at an immense bee hive.” 


No. 403b Rodger’s Fulmar 


A. O. U. No. 86.1. Fulmarus glacialis rodgersi Cassin. 

Synonyms.—GLUuPISCH, etc., as in preceding species. 

Description.—A duit, light phase: Mantle (middle of back and wings) and tip 
of tail above, coarsely mottled sooty gray and white; wing-quills blackening on exposed 
tips; remaining plumage pure white. Adult, dark phase, and Immature: Uniform 
sooty gray, darker and less plumbeous than in foregoing species. Plumage changes 
imperfectly differentiated. Dimensions as in F. g. glupischa or perhaps a little larger. 

Recognition Marks.—As in preceding species, darker or with mottled mantle. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies. Egg: Single; 
rough chalky white; laid on rocky ledge. Av. size 73.66 x 50.3 (2.90 x 1.98). Season: 
c. June Ist. 

General Range.—North Pacific Ocean and Bering Sea with adjacent portion 
of the Arctic. Breeds (at least) upon the Pribilovs and Wrangel and Herald islands; 
winters south to San Diego. 

Occurrence in California.—A winter visitor along the coast, usually in com- 
pany with the preceding species. 


1 Bulletin, U. S. Natl. Mus., No. 20, p. 95. 


1994 


The Pintado Petrel 


Authorities.—Anthony (Fulmarus glacialis rodgersi), Auk, vol. xii., 1895, 
p. 107 (off San Diego; habits); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. iv., 1909, p. 273, pl. 79; 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 17 (occurrence off coast of s. Calif.) ; 


THICK feathers make warm birds. Our interest in Rodgers’ 
Fulmar has been aroused by the fact that its upper plumage presents a 
mottled appearance which serves to differentiate it from that of the leaden- 
colored ‘“‘Glupisch’’; but the bird’s interest must be very definitely cen- 
tered on the question whether feathers of a given weight or down of a 
given thickness will enable it and its offspring to withstand the low 
temperatures and outbreaking blizzards of Herald Island and Wrangell, 
where it makes its summer home. Wrangell! Say! this bird may be 
stupid and its skull as thick as its feathers, belike, but doesn’t that iron 
word move you to envy? Bird of the stout heart! Who would not be 
cradled in that land of mystery, where icebergs crash on granite and the 
aurora borealis flares! California is good enough in winter, but O, you 
enchanted island of the midnight sun! 


No. 404 


Pintado Petrel 


A. O. U. No. [102]. Daption capense (Linnzus). 

Synonyms.—CareE PIGEON. Cape (of Good Hope) PETREL. CHECKERED 
PETREL. DAMIER. CAPE FULMAR. 

Description.—Terminal third of tail and wings, except secondaries, plumbeous 
black; remaining plumage white; the back, rump, and upper tail-coverts marked with 
spots of plumbeous black. Bill and feet black. Length 381 (15.00); wing 273.05 
(10.75); tail 114.3 (4.50); bill 33 (1.30); tarsus 41.9 (1.65). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; checkered pattern of back distinctive. 

Nesting.—On Kerguelen and the South Orkneys. Description not available. 

General Range.—Southern seas north to Ceylon, central Brazil and northern 
Peru; accidental off California, Maine, and Great Britain. 

Occurrence in California.—A wanderer taken off Monterey. One record. 

Authorities.—Lawrence (Pvrocellaria capensis), Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist. New 
York, 1853, p. 6 (off Monterey); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. iv., 1909, p. 276, pl. 
80; Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 9I (crit.; syst.) ; 
Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 49 (life hist.). 


THE EARLY annals of West American ornithology are cluttered up 
with records of strange Tube-noses taken ‘‘off the coast of California’”’ 
or “‘off the coast of Oregon”’ or ‘‘at the mouth of the Columbia River.”’ 
For one thing, early sea captains, enjoined by wistful friends to remember 


T995 


The Pink-footed Shearwater 


the home “‘cabinet,”’ picked up all sorts of curious looking fowls as they 
rounded Cape Horn, and turned them in at their destination, Monterey or 
Astoria, as the case might be. The home folks acclaimed these memen- 
toes of the mysterious wonderland of the West, and labeled them ‘“Cali- 
fornia.”” On the other hand, the Tube-noses are the earth’s great 
wanderers; and an Albatross or a ‘‘Cape Pigeon,” setting out without chart 
or compass from some distant Antarctic rock which gave him birth, is 
liable to turn up most anywhere from Godhaven to Urup (Id.). The 
truth regarding the individual case lies now here, now there. A specimen 
of the Pintado Petrel is said by Lawrence to have been taken by Colonel 
Pike ‘“‘off Monterey.’ Perhaps it was; though how far off, deponent 
sayeth not. 

The Checkered Petrel is among the most active and best known 
birds of its kind, while its highly variegated black and white plumage 
renders it the most conspicuous of the entire group. 


No. 405 


Pink-footed Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 91. Puffinus creatopus Coues. 

Description.—Upperparts sooty slate, blackening on wings and tail, varied by 
lighter or whitish edging, in coarse pattern on back, shading broadly on sides of neck 
and sides; under tail-coverts uniform sooty; remaining underparts white, purest cen- 
trally, dusky encroaching variously on tips of feathers, especially on sides of throat and 
lower belly; (immature?) lining of wings white mottled with sooty, the axillars chiefly 
sooty; no white on inner webs of primaries. Bill pale yellowish flesh-color, blackening 
on nasal tube, culmen, and tip; feet flesh-colored, more livid than in carnetpes; nails 
whitish with brown tips. Length (av. of 10 Monterey specimens) 460 (18.11); wing 
325 (12.79); bill, length 42.6 (1.68); depth at base 16.6 (.65); tarsus 54.3 (2.14). 

Recognition Marks.—Crow size, but appearing gull size; the commonest of 
the larger ‘‘black-and-white’’ shearwaters, much larger than P. opisthomelas. 

Nesting.—Undescribed. 

General Range.—FEastern Pacific Ocean, from the Juan Fernandez Islands 
(Chile) north, commonly, to Monterey, and rarely (?) to coast of Washington. 

Occurrence in California.—Abundant forager at varying distances off-shore, 
north commonly to Monterey and more rarely (?) to Pt. Arenas. Occurs casually in 
February and commonly from May to November, often in mixed flocks with P. opis- 
thomelas, P. griseus, etc. 

Authorities.—Coues (Puffinus creatopus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol. 
XV1., 1864, p. 131 (orig. desc.; type locality, San Nicholas Id.); Willett, Pac. Coast 
Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 18 (status off coast of s. Calif.); Oberholser, Auk, vol. xxxiv., 
1917, p. 471 (syst.; nomencl.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 
12, 1918, p. 109 (crit.; syst.). 


7990 


The Pink-footed Shearwater 


THOSE who are only slightly familiar with the phenomena of bird 
migration often wonder why the process is not reversed; i. e., why the 
Southern Hemisphere does not send its birds north to ‘winter’ (in our 
summer). The situation is a complicated one, and we may not press for 
the solution here, save as it affects one group. So far as the Tubinares 
are concerned, the answer is a clear one: It does. Since the Southern 
Hemisphere is also the aqueous hemisphere, it is natural that these 
strictly pelagic species, comprising the ‘‘ocean wanderers,’’ should have 
their center of abundance there. But Antarctica in her winter is even 
more inhospitable than Arctica in ours; hence, the pronounced tendency of 
tube-nosed birds to wander north at apogee. This tendency has become 
a fixed habit of migration in the case of the Puffinide, the Shearwaters. 
Many of those reared at high southern latitudes fall back upon the north 
temperate zone for their winter sustenance, and even some reared in the 
northern tropics, like our own P. opisthomelas, or P. auduboni of the 
Bahamas, range further north for the bulk of the year. 

Our knowledge of such movements is largely supplemented by the 
flotsam of dead bodies cast up on our beaches. Occasionally these floaters 
are sO numerous as to arrest attention; as in the summer of 1908, when 
Mr. J. H. Bowles discovered that many species of sea-birds off the coast 
of Washington were suffering from an enteric parasite which notably 
depleted their ranks. But the ordinary movements of the Shearwaters, 
conducted as they are upon so vast a scale, are attended with a loss of life 
from natural causes of accident and decrepitude, which line the beaches 


Taken near Santa Barbara SHEARWATERS AT REST Photo by the Author 
MOSTLY DARK-BODIED, BUT THE LIGHT BIRDS ARE SURMISED TO BE PINK-FOOTS 


1997 


The Black-vented Shearwater 


with an instructive record. An unseasonable storm will take added toll 
of even such hardened veterans as these; and the attendant mortality is 
reported in headlines next day on shore. 

The Pink-footed Shearwater was originally described by Dr. Elliott 
Coues, from a specimen taken by our Dr. J. G. Cooper in July, 1863, 
off San Nicolas Island. It proves, however, to be a regular component of 
those enormous shoals of southern-bred shearwaters which annually 
flood our coasts. Appearing as early as the end of February, the end of 
the Antarctic summer, they do not become common till the end of May 
or early June; while those which are still lingering with us at the end of 
November may be assumed to be immature or non-breeding birds. 

The Farallon Islands are assigned by the A. O. U. as the northern 
limit of their occurrence, but I once found a stranded specimen on the 
coast of Washington above Gray’s Harbor; and there really is no reason 
why they should not accompany their friends, the Sooties, all the way to 
Alaska. Of the breeding range of P. creatopus little is known, but it is 
surmised to be somewhere along the coast of southern Chile. 


No. 406 


Black-vented Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 93. Puffinus opisthomelas Coues. 

Description.—(General coloration much as in preceding species). Adult: 
Upper plumage dark sooty brown to blackish, lighter forward, blacker behind, shading 
on sides of head, neck (often nearly meeting across chest), and breast, and on sides, to 
white of remaining underparts; under tail-coverts and crissum, just short of vent, 
sooty brown; lining of wings white, or dusky-flecked; the axillaries broadly tipped with 
sooty. Bill slender, blackish above (in the skin), lighter below; tarsus behind and 
outer toe blackish; tarsus in front and inner toes, with webs (drying) yellowish. Length 
(av. of to Monterey specimens): 373 (14.69); wing 237.3 (9.34); bill, length 37.6 (1.48), 
depth at base 11.7 (.46); tarsus 45.5 (1.79). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; but appearing larger; black-and-white, the 
smallest of the local shearwaters; very like P. creatopus in color pattern, but white of 
underparts clearer and more extensive save for sooty more broadly encroaching on 
sides of neck and breast. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies. Egg: Single; 
elongate ovate; white; laid at end of burrow 2 to 8 feet in length. Av. size 59 x 39.8 
(2.32 x 1.56); index 67.2. Season: c. April 10. 

General Range.— Pacific Ocean off coast of North America. Breeds on islands 
adjoining Lower California and western Mexico; migrates and forages along coast of 
California and north to Vancouver Island. 

Occurrence in California.—Abundant migrant and forager from July or August 
to late April. 


7998 


a 


* - oad % 
Tae eek) 8 bay i te 


The Black-vented Shearwater 


with an instructive record. An unseasonable storm will take added toll 
of even such hardened veterans as these; and the attendant mortality i is” 
reported in headlines next day on shore. 

The Pink-footed Shearwater was originally described by Dr, Elliott. 
Coues, from a specimen taken by our Dr. J. G. Cooper in July, 1863, 
off San Nicolas Island. 1t proves, however, to be a regular component of © 
those enormous shoals of southern-bred shearwaters which annually — 
food our coasts. Appearing as early as the end of February, the end of 
the Antarctic summer, they do not become common till the end of May 
or early June; while those which are still lmgering with us at the end of 
November may be assumed to be inymature or non-breeding birds. . | 

‘The Faralion Islands are assigned by the A. O. U. as the northern 
limit of their occurrence, but } once found a stranded specimen on the 
coast of Washington above Gray's Harbor; and there really is no reason’ 
why they should not accompany their friends, the Sooties, all the way to 
Alaska, Of the breeding range of P. create pus little is known, but itis ~ 
surmised to be somewhere along ze coast of southern Chile. > 


Mm OU 
= Rp. 406 
Black-geated Shearwater 
Ean aes : 


AO. U. No. 93. Pufinu@bp&tRomelas Coues. 
Deseription.-(General G@preich: much as in preceding species). Adult: 


= 


Upper plumage dark suoty browse BlaBkish, lighter forward, blacker behind, shading 
wn sides of head, neck foften neatay Being across chest), and breast, and on sides, to 
white of reniaining underparts; Beiter Sail- -coverts and crissum, just short of vent, 
sooty brown; lining of wings whit OF dijeky- -flecked; the axillaries broadly tipped with ~ 
sooty. Bill slender, blackish abfgre (8 the skin}, lighter below; tarsus behind and 
fxiter toe blackish; tarsus in front hd inir tues, ses webs Girying) yellowish. Length hy 
(ay. of 19 Monterey specimens): 373 (149); wing 3 (9.34); bill, length 37,6. {i -48), x 
Gdenth ab dase 11.7 (46); tarsus 45.5 (1. @). Be ei 

even anion Marks.—Teal sized but bees larger; incl andi the 
staatiest ef the lca) shearwaters; very like P. creatopus in color pattern, but white of 
atrdbes pat rts chitiver and more extensive save for sooty more broadly encroaching or 
+ivs of wenk and breast. 

Westie. Dors aor breed in California. Nests\ in colonies. Ege: Single; 
signpate ovate: wine; laid at end of hurrow 2 to 8 feét in length. Av. sizé 59 cacy 8° 
(2.28 Diab: tadex G2. | Seasons cc) April 10, 

General Range.-—Pacific Ocean off coast of North America, Breeds on ‘lands meat 
actjnining 2 ower California and western Mexico; migrates and forages cone coast of | 
California and-north to Vancouver Island. 

Occurrence in Galifornia.—Abundant migrant and forager from July or August — 
ie date April. 


7098 


The Black-vented Shearwater 


Authorities.—Ridgway (Puffinus gavia), Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. iii., 1880, 
p. 223 (coast of Calif.); Anthony, Auk, vol. xiii., 1896, p. 223 (habits, nesting, etc.). 


NONE of the larger species of Petrels nest along our coasts; but opis- 
thomelas is such a near neighbor when at home, and so frequent a visitor 
at other times, that we claim the right to make careful inquiry as to his 
appearance and conduct. Of its external aspect we need only say that it 
is black above and white below with a sooty crissum, and that it is the 
smallest of the four commoner species of Shearwaters which frequent our 
coast. It is highly gregarious, and R. H. Beck, writing from Monterey, 
regards it as only less abundant than the Sooty Shearwater (P. griseus). 
Its abundance increases as we go southward, and vast companies of un- 
mixed opisthomelas occur off San Pedro or San Diego Bay. 

To Mr. A. W. Anthony, then of San Diego, who in the Nineties made 
such a careful study of pelagic bird-life off the coasts of southern and Baja 
California, we are indebted for our only intimate knowledge of this 
species... He encountered them as breeding birds first on the island of 
Guadalupe, which lies some 220 miles south of San Diego and 65 miles 
offshore. Here, in company with Cassin Auklets and Xantus Murrelets, 
they occupy thousands of vapor-holes and miniature caves which honey- 
comb gigantic lava cliffs 3000 feet in height. Mr. Anthony was first 
attracted to their presence by the sound of familiar notes heard in the 
early evening, as his schooner lay at anchor beneath these crags. The 
outcry soon increased to an uproar. ‘‘It would be impossible to describe 
accurately these notes. They were a series of gasping wheezy cries, re- 
sembling somewhat the escape of steam through a partly clogged pipe, 
uttered in a slightly varied key and repeated from four or five, to ten 
times. During calm weather in January, February, and March flocks of 
a dozen to several hundred of these Shearwaters often collect on the water 
well offshore and at such times | have heard the same notes from two or 
more birds as they chased each other, half running, half flying, over the 
water. From the notes that came from the cliffs | thought that the birds 
were chasing one another, and a little later many of them came down to 
the water and were occasionally seen as they flashed by our anchor light. 
After an hour or so the outcry somewhat subsided and I think most of 
the birds went offshore to feed, returning before daylight, for during 
nearly two weeks spent cruising about the island only one flock of Shear- 
waters was seen during the daytime.” 

The observer later found that the Shearwaters were silent in their 
burrows, but repeated their outcries as often as they emerged at night, 
or were disturbed by intruders. 


L999 


The Black-vented Shearwater 


On Natividad Island, some 200 miles further south and close inshore, 
a much larger colony was encountered; and this, by reason of the friable 
nature of the soil, permitted closer study. The breeding season was at 
its height on the 1oth of April, when each burrow contained either a pair of 
Shearwaters and no egg, or else one bird sitting on the single egg. 

The distinction is a noteworthy one, and I dwell upon it (chiefly upon 
my own responsibility) because Shearwaters, in common with most other 
Petrels—and, indeed to some extent with the unrelated Alcid@—enjoy an 
extended honeymoon during the period preceding the arrival of the egg. 
The early phases of courtship take place upon the ocean; but after the all 
important decision is made (for that year at least), the happy couple go 
ashore and renovate the old tunnel, or else sink a new shaft. The bur- 
row, though not more than a foot and a half below the surface of the 
ground, proceeds with many a twist and turn to a length of ten feet, 
or less if the soil is stubborn. The nuptial chamber may or may not 
boast a slight carpet of twigs or green leaves. 

Work on this tunnel has been carried on intermittently at night. 
When it is completed the husband remains with the bride and expectant 
mother for at least a month, faring forth with her only at night in quest of 
food. Insome species, as for instance, P. cuneatus, a week’s absence from 
the burrow on the part of both parents immediately precedes the deposi- 
tion of the egg; but the prevalence of this habit is not clear, or at least 
not certainly made out in the case of P. opisthomelas. 

After the arrival of the egg the male absents himself by day thence- 
forth, returning well after dark, either to feed his mate or else to change 
places with her for the night. [Careful records on this point are woefully 
lacking in the case of most Tubinares.] It is this arrival and interchange, 
varying endlessly according to the length of the daily wandering, which 
occasions the nightly uproar. 

When the chick is hatched and during the days of tender infancy, 
one parent remains with it constantly. A little later one parent mounts 
guard by day, while both hunt at night. Later the gargantuan appetite 
of the youngster requires the ministering service of both parents day and 
night, while the chick’s abundant down enables him to weather the 
rigors of his subterranean cellar quite alone. 

Mr. Anthony sets the average date of fresh eggs for this species 
as early March,! but the birds are often seen in abundance in more north- 
ern waters at this season, or even much later. Nesting is, therefore, 
either very irregular as to date, or else varies with the different 
colonies. Each nesting island is a law to itself, and each season imposes 
its own restraints. Of course there is a marked accession of numbers 


1 Auk, Vol. XVII., July, 1900, p. 252. 


2000 


The Dark-bodied Shearwater 


when the new crop arrives in late July. Fortunately [!], this is also 
the season of abundant fare. Vast shoals of herrings, anchovies, and 
surf-fish become enamored of our fascinating shores, and are closely fol- 
lowed by the rapacious host of Shearwaters. Prudence usually forbids 
a closer approach than the kelp-line; but if the fish are reckless, so are 
their persecutors. I have seen thousands settle within rifle shot of the 
beach; and Anthony tells of a company at Cape Colnett which fought 
with the breakers for certain coveted delicatessen. 


No. 407 


Dark-bodied Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 95. Puffinus griseus (Gmelin). 

Synonyms.—Sooty SHEARWATER. WHALE-BIRD. 

Description.—A dults: General plumage dark sooty brown, blackening on dis- 
tal scapulars and wings, lightening (sooty gray) below, lightest, sometimes nearly 
white, on chin; lower eyelid touched with white; axillars sooty, but lining of wings 
chiefly white with some dusky marbling. Bill comparatively large and stout, black; 
tarsus black outside, and outer toe black on the outside; tarsus inside, the inner toe, 
and the outer toe on the inside, yellow; the webbing black (or perhaps yellow in 
breeding season, auct. Buller). Length (av. 10 Monterey specimens): 465 (18.30) 
wing 287 (11.29); bill 42.5 (1.67), depth at base 13.5 (.53); tarsus 57.1 (2.25). 

Recognition Marks.—Really teal length, but appearing gull size by reason of 
stout body and long wings; dusky plumage; rapid flight with alternate flap and sail; 
follows surface of water closely; appears usually in immense flocks or long continuous 
lines off-shore; a little smaller than creatopus, much larger than opisthomelas; very 
like tenwirostris, but larger and with more extensive white on under surface of wing. 

Nesting.— Does not breed in California. Single white egg laid at end of burrow 
in hillside, several feet in and often miles from water. Avy. size 67.3 x 45.7 (2.65 x 
1.80). Season: November. 

General Range.—Of widest distribution; southern oceans, north in the Atlantic 
to the Faroe Islands and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and in the Pacific to southern 
Alaska and the Kurile Islands. Breeds at least on islands of the New Zealand seas. 

Occurrence in California.—Common upon ocean at all seasons, sometimes of 
incredible abundance as migrant and forager at varying distances from shore up to 
50 miles. Period of maximum abundance May—November. Occasionally passes 
close inshore or visits bays and harbors: Santa Barbara, Sept. 10, 1913, etc.; Pizmo, 
June 25, 1914; San Francisco Bay, various occurrences. 

Authorities.—Cooper ( Nectris fulignosus), Proc. Calif, Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 
1870, p. 79 (San Nicholas Id.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, vi., 1896, p. 27 
(occurrence at Monterey); zbzd., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 132 (syst.; crit.). 


DID YOU EVER see a million birds at once? Our fathers did in 
the days of the Passenger Pigeon, but that species is extinct now. We 


2007 


The Dark-bodied Shearwater 


have heard similar tales of the abundance of ducks; but what with the long 
prevalence of insensate market slaughter, automatic guns, and the universal 
madness, we have to speak soberly of thousands now. Your one best 
chance to see a million birds is to post yourself on some sea-cliff, any- 
where from May to October, and to watch for a dark line of hurrying 
Shearwaters outside of the kelp-beds, perhaps half a mile or so offshore. 
It is a mere chance, then, for Shearwaters hunt in great hordes, and the 
main host may be operating anywhere between Baja California and 
Alaska. 

The hunting organization of the Shearwaters is a great revolving 
ring, most nearly comparable to that of a meteoric host, say the Leonids, 
which, though most abundant at one point of their enormous orbit, are, 
nevertheless, strung out with substantial uniformity over the whole of 
the remaining circuit. The whirling ring of birds drifts north or south 
with a movement as certain and imperceptible as the ‘‘secular drift’’ of 
the stars. The circle may be a comparatively small one, so that you can 
see the returning line, the other side of the circle, a mile or so farther 
out to sea; or it may be very large, as much as twenty-five miles in 
diameter, so that the observer on shore has the impression of a single 
stream of birds moving parallel to the shore, and sometimes occupying 
days in passage. Nevertheless, there is a point somewhere upshore 
where the line bends away and passes out to sea, to accomplish in due 
order the return movement of the gigantic succession. 

The line itself varies from a thin ribbon, which one may easily count, 


Ses 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
MASSING, AND SWIMMING RAPIDLY 


2002 


The Dark-bodied Shearwater 


SS aes 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
A RAFT OF DARK-BODIED SHEARWATERS 


say 200 birds per minute, to a solid column which one must estimate at a 
hundred or two hundred birds per second. Being once favorably situated 
with a “marker” a half mile offshore and just inside the flight-line, I 
estimated that between 100,000 and 200,000 birds passed in the course 
of thirty-five minutes. This I judged on other grounds to be the complete 
horde. Assuming the lesser number, or an average of 3000 birds per 
minute, moving at a speed of sixty miles per hour (the questing flight is 
really not so very rapid), we had here a flight circle thirty-five miles 
in circumference. A circle twenty-five miles in diameter would assure a 
quarter of a million birds. There is also good reason to suppose that 
our “‘circle’”’ is sometimes a very eccentric ellipse, with its major axis a 
hundred miles or more in length, extending parallel to shore. This would 
give us the possibility of a million birds. 

But to see them all at once! That, too, is easy if you know the 
magic talisman. It is herring. The million Shearwaters are looking for 
a school of ten million little fish; and when this populous kindergarten 
is located—lucky for you if near shore—an electric thrill runs through 
the circle. The original discoverers have plumped into the water; those 
immediately ahead have wheeled about; while those behind have speeded 
up with an impulse which almost immediately affects the entire line. 
The pace is furious, and the water is instantly black with settling birds. 
The first comers have snatched their prey from the surface; their imme- 
diate successors have had to dive to moderate depths, probably not over 
three or four feet. The fish themselves have taken alarm and gone 
below, but they will reappear in a minute or so at some distance, only to 
be set upon in fury by the augmented company of beaks. 

After a successful catch digestion is the immediate order of the 
day, and the Shearwaters settle upon the water in great shoals to accom- 
plish this important feat. At such a time, having been notified by tele- 
phone that strange black birds were thronging the harbor at Santa Barbara, 
we seized our cameras and hurried down to Stearns Wharf, only to find 


2003 


The Dark-bodied Shearwater 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
DARK-BODIED SHEARWATERS: A FURY OF EXERTION 


that the anchovies had all been eaten up, and that the birds were leaving. 
Hastily chartering a fisherman’s launch, we gave orders to head south- 
west, whither by now the last birds had disappeared. The sea was 
a bit choppy, and our course lay broadwise to the swells; hardly an ideal 
condition for a race with Shearwaters. Nevertheless, a mile or so out 
we succeeded in picking them up in the offing; and as we approached, large 
numbers rose from the surface of the water and sped away. It looked 
discouraging, but glancing down wind and sun toward Miramar, we made 
out several dark shoals of birds. Heading toward them we found to our 
delight that they would drive down wind instead of rising. We first 
tried drifting, but fell into the trough of the waves and could not snap 
to advantage. Also the birds washed along as fast as we did. Backing 
fared no better, because we lost control of the boat. So finally we took 
to driving straight at them, then sheered and circled before they were 
too much disturbed. We soon found that the birds had to face the wind 
and kick vigorously in order to rise at all. So by driving down wind, 
we repeatedly got right among them. In this predicament they either 
dived or swam desperately or floundered down wind. The minute we 
were past them of course they rose and made off. Twice the whole 
flock, numbering 2000 or 3000 birds, settled within quarter of a mile and 
allowed us to repeat our hectoring tactics. Many ensemble pictures 
were secured of the birds both sitting and rising, but the roughness of 


2004 


The Flesh-footed Shearwater 


Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
DARK-BODIED SHEARWATERS: BREAKING WATER 


the water did not permit of properly timed exposures or of individual 
portraiture. 

The nights are spent in this same fashion, tossing upon the waves 
in great dense companies which roughly parallel the shore. Their 
slumbers are not infrequently disturbed by storms; and we have ample 
evidence on shore that not even these children of the sea can stand an 
indefinite amount of buffeting. A watery grave awaits every Shearwater, 
and it makes little difference to a floater whether crayfish or gulls play 
the part of undertaker. 


No. 408 


Flesh-footed Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 95.1. Puffinus carneipes Gould. 

Synonym.—PaLE-FOOTED SHEARWATER. 

Description.— ‘Adult, dark sooty brown, nearly uniform, slightly paler beneath 
and grayer on the throat; under wing-coverts and axillaries uniform sooty brown, 
bill flesh-colour, the tip horn; tarsi and toes flesh-colour. Total length about 19.5 
inches [mm 495.3], wing 12.5 [mm 317.5]; tail, central rectrices 4.3 [mm 109.2], lateral 
rectrices 3.65 [mm 92.7]; tarsus 2.25 [mm 57.15], middle toe 2.7 [mm 68.6], outer toe a 
trifle shorter, inner toe 2.2 [mm 55.9]’’ (Salvin). 


2005 


The Slender-billed Shearwater 


Recognition Marks.—Size of the common griseus, but no white on wing-lining; 
feet palest. Pale beak said by Loomis to be distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies. Single egg pure 
white, laid at end of burrow in sandy soil. Av. size 68.6 x 44.45 (2.70 x 1.75). Season: 
November 20—December. 

General Range.—Australian and New Zealand seas north to Japan and Calif. 

Occurrence in California.—Of limited but apparently regular occurrence 
as migrant and forager off-shore, at all seasons but perhaps less commonly in winter. 
Associates closely with P. griseus. 

Authorities.—Beck (Puffinus carneipes), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. iii., 
1910, p. 66 (Monterey); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. II, 1915, p. 27 (Monterey) ; 
Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 129 (syst.; Calif. 
occurrences, etc.). 


IN THE “good old days”’ any fat squab haled from its subterranean 
cradle by a hungry fisherman was dubbed a puffin, in honor of its heavy 
coat of down and consequent puffy appearance. All babies look alike (at 
least so bachelors say), and we cannot blame the unlettered Manxman 
for confusing two sooty balls of down which he found in adjoining bur- 
rows. But the scientist who suffered one bird (Fratercula arctica) to be 
called Puffin; and then gravely latinized the fisherman’s nickname as 
Puffinus puffinus, to serve as the “imperishable designation” of the Manx 
Shearwater, wrought imperishable confusion thereby. 

But the poor “‘scientist’’ is often hard put to it, especially when 
he doesn’t know anything about the bird in life. Take this Shear- 
water, for instance, Puffinus carnetpes,—I don’t know anything about 
it. Call it ‘‘Pink-footed,’’ as Salvin does; or ‘‘Flesh-footed,” as Beck 
does; or ‘‘Pale-footed,’’ as the A. O. U. Committee recommends. Or, 
if the gentle bird will permit the gentle reader to hold its hand (foot), 
he may have a try at it himself. 

Rollo H. Beck dragged this bird from its comfortable obscurity 
(where it had doubtless reposed, seasonably, for a millennium) off Point 
Pinos, on the 23rd of November, 1903. He dragged it out. ten times 
(at least—see specimens in the California Academy of Sciences and in 
the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology), and pretty well established thereby 
that out of every thousand Shearwaters shot off Monterey, one or two will 
be ‘‘Pale-footed,’’—or ‘‘Flesh-footed,”’ as you prefer. 


No. 409 
Slender-billed Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 96. Puffinus tenuirostris (Temminck). 

Synonyms.—SHOoORT-TAILED SHEARWATER. ‘‘MUTTON-BIRD"’ (par excellence). 

Description.— Adults: General plumage sooty black, varied slightly by brown- 
2006 


The Slender-billed Shearwater 


ish tips of feathers, lightening (sooty gray) below; chin lighter to whitish, and a touch 
of white on lower eyelid; lining of wing, restrictedly, whitish to white. Bill slender, 
weak, black; feet and legs light gray and dusky. Length (av. of 6 Monterey specimens) : 
393 (15.47); wing 273 (10.75); bill 32 (1.26); depth at base 10.4 (.41); tarsus 49.5 (1.95). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size, but appearing larger; uniform sooty coloration; 
roughly, a smaller edition of the dark-bodied Shearwater—bill much smaller and white 
lining of wing more restricted. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Single white egg deposited in burrow 
or (in crowded colonies) upon surface of the ground. Size variable but average about 
71.1 x 47 (2.80 x 1.85). Season: c. Nov. 25; one brood. 

General Range.—Breeds in southern seas; migrates along both coasts of 
North Pacific as far as Kotzebue Sound, Alaska. 

Occurrence in California.—Fairly common migrant and forager on the open 
ocean, from San Diego north at least to Monterey. All records appear to come within 
the seven ‘‘winter’’ months, October—April. 

Authorities.—Loomis (Puffinus tenuirostris), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, 
vol. vi., 1896, p. 28 (Monterey); zbid., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 138 (syst.; 
Calif. occurrences, etc.); Anthony, Auk, vol. xiii., 1896, p. 171 (near San Diego). 


IF A SHEARWATER’S memory was retentive, it could doubtless 
take first prize in a geographical quiz upon the Pacific Ocean. Experienced 
the race unquestionably is, and none more so than ftenutrostris, he of the 
slender beak, who ranges through all the intricacies of North Pacific 
coastal waters clear up to Kotzebue Sound. As nearly as we can deter- 
mine, the spring journey northward is accomplished along the Asiatic 
borders of the ocean. The returning hosts of fall sweep down our Ameri- 
can coasts, but usually take their departure for the trans-Pacific flight 
from some point farther north than California. Now and again, however, 
the southward movement persists along our shores. Mr. Joseph Mailliard 
encountered the species in considerable numbers at Monterey on the 17th, 
18th, and 19th of December, 1895, and was the first to report them as 
Californian birds. Their occurrence at that season was further remarkable 
because December is the height of their breeding season in Australian 
waters. Mr. Beck records a notable flight on December 2nd, 1907, on 
Monterey Bay, where he also took specimens from October 14th to Janu- 
ary 30th, the last-mentioned being undoubtedly a non-breeding straggler. 
Anthony took specimens off San Diego on January 9th, 1896, evidently 
stragglers from the unusual movement which Mailliard had witnessed 
at Monterey some twenty days previous. 

The early accounts of the nesting of these ‘‘Mutton-birds,”’ on 
certain islands off the coast of Tasmania, border upon the marvelous. 
Davies, writing in the ‘‘Tasmanian Journal,” says:! “‘It is not in my 
power to describe the scene which presents itself at Green Island on the 
night of the 24th of November. A few minutes before sunset flocks are 


1Quoted by Salvin and Godman in Monograph of the Tubinares, Pt. II., p. 151. 
2007 


The New Zealand Shearwater 


seen making for the island from every quarter, and that with a rapidity 
hardly conceivable; when they congregate together, so dense is the cloud, 
that night is ushered in full ten minutes before the usual time. The 
birds continue flitting about the island for nearly an hour and then settle 
upon it. The whole island is burrowed; and when I state that there 
are not sufficient burrows for one-fourth of the birds to lay in, the scene 
of noise and confusion which ensues may be imagined—I will not attempt 
to describe it. On the morning of the 25th the male birds take their 
departure, returning again in the evening, and so they continue to do 
until the end of the season. Every burrow on the island contains, accord- 
ing to its size, from one to three or four birds, and as many eggs; one is 
the general rule. At least three-fourths of the birds lay under bushes, 
and the eggs are so numerous that great care must be taken to avoid 
trampling upon them. The natives from Flinders generally live for some 
days on Green Island at this time of the year for the purpose of collecting 
the eggs, and again in March or April for curing the young birds. The 
eggs and cured birds form a great portion of the food of sealers, and, 
together with their feathers, constitute the principal articles of their 
traffic.” 

Inasmuch as the standard-sized feather-bed required the sacrifice 
of some 1600 birds, it may readily be seen how these once numerous birds, 
raising at best but a single young each year, became sadly depleted in 
numbers. Fortunately, governmental regulation has since been insti- 
tuted, and this enlightened policy bids fair to maintain Slender-billed 
Shearwaters and allied species at something like the present status. 


No. 410 


New Zealand Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 96.2. Puffinus bulleri Salvin. 

Description.—‘‘Adult: Upper surface dark grey, crown and back of the neck 
sooty-black, the lores and region below the eye mottled with greyish white; lesser 
wing-coverts sooty-black; larger coverts grey and bordered with white; primaries 
outwardly black, two-thirds of the inner web white; under surface and under wing- 
coverts white; under tail-coverts white, with a grey edge; tail blackish, outer rectrices 
tinged with grey; bill dark horn-colour, the mandible beneath fleshy; tarsi and toes 
yellowish, outwardly dusky. Total length about 16.5 inches [mm 419.1]; wing 11.3 
[mm 287]; tail, central rectrices 5.2 [mm 132.1], lateral rectrices 3.5 [mm 88.9]; bill 
2.6 [mm 66]; tarsus 2 [mm 50.8], middle toe 2.35 [mm 59.7], outer toe 2.3 [mm 58.4], 
inner toe 2 [mm 50.8]’’ (Salvin). 

Recognition Marks.—A black-and-white wedge-tailed type, paler above, gray 
instead of sooty. White on inner webs of primaries distinctive. 


2008 


The Black-tailed Shearwater 


General Range.—Southern seas, north to Monterey. Breeding haunts un- 
known. 

Occurrence in California.—Rare, but apparently of fairly regular occurrence 
as migrant and forager off the coast of Monterey. All records fall within the autumn 
months. 

Authorities.—Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 3, Zool., ii., 1900, p. 319 
(Monterey); zbzd., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 146 (syst.; Calif. occurrences, 
etc.). 


ALTHOUGH Shearwaters range over the entire ocean, their favorite 
beats lie along the offshore banks, where herring, squids, and surface 
crustaceans abound. They usually move close to the water with a stiff 
double or treble flap and sail, a motion which is admirably suited to the 
sinuosities of the sea; and while one may think them a little awkward 
and slow-gaited, it is astonishing how quickly they pass from sight. It 
takes a nice eye and a practiced judgment to pick out the occasional 
rarity from among the thronging thousands of Shearwaters which annu- 
ally sweep down, or up, our coasts. Sometimes discrimination is impos- 
sible; and we owe our first knowledge of some species either to accident or 
shrewd “‘suspicion.””’ Mr. L. M. Loomis had the (deserved) good fortune 
of establishing the first record of P. bulleri for the Northern Hemisphere— 
a female taken on Monterey Bay, November 6th, 1896. Mr. Beck has 
taken numbers of specimens since in the same historic locality; and its 
occurrence might be described, therefore, as expectable. 

Added zest is given to this search for strange visitors when we 
realize that more specimens of this bird have been taken at Monterey 
than in all other places together, including the type locality, New Zealand. 
This trim little Shearwater probably breeds somewhere in the Southern 
Hemisphere, but its nesting haunts are unknown. 


No. 411 
Black-tailed Shearwater 


A. O. U. No. 97. Priofinus cinereus (Gmelin). 

Description.—Adult: ‘‘Upper surface cinereous, rather darker than the crown, 
wings, tail and rump; the feathers of the back with dark shafts, under surface white; 
the sides of the head and neck pale grey, blending into the white of the under plumage 
and the darker grey of the upper; a few feathers on the flanks and the under tail- 
coverts grey; under wing-coverts and quills grey; bill yellow, the nares and culmen 
black; tarsi and toes fleshy brown, the outer toe darker. Total length about 19 inches 
[mm 482.6], wing 13 [mm 330.2]; tail, central rectrices 4.4 [mm 111.76], lateral rectrices 
3.5 [mm 88.9]; bill 2.4 [mm 61], tarsus 2.3 [mm 58.4], middle toe and outer toes 2.75 
{mm 63.5], inner toe 2.35 [mm 59.7]”’ (Salvin). 


2009 


The Fork-tailed Petrel 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nests in colonies, depositing single 
egg at end of burrow under tussock of grass, high up on mountain side (Macquarie 
Island). Egg: White. Av. size 69.85 x 50.8 (2.75 x 2.00). 

General Range.—Southern oceans. 


Occurrence in California.—One record, off coast of Monterey, some seventy 
years ago. Specimen now in Am. Mus. Nat. Hist., New York. 


Authorities.—Lawrence (Procellaria haesitata), Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist., New 
York, vi., 1853, p. 5 (specimen obtained off Monterey); Baird, Brewer, and Ridgway, 
Water Birds N. Amer., vol. ii., 1884, p. 375; Beck, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, iii., 
1910, p. 66; Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 108 
(Calif. occurrence). 


THERE ARE doubtless more fish in the sea than have ever been 
caught; but your scientist cares nothing for their quantity. It’s quality 
he’s after, and he’d give his galluses for a new species, or even, sometimes, 
for a new record. 

Lawrence's record of a specimen of Priofinus cinereus, taken off Mon- 
terey, stands unquestioned and unduplicated. The bird is an inhabitant 
of southern oceans; and although it has been seen to the number of hun- 
dreds of thousands at once off Tierra del Fuego, its range is still imper- 
fectly made out and its eggs are unknown. 


No. 412 


Fork-tailed Petrel 


A. O. U. No. 105. Oceanodroma furcata (Gmelin). 

Synonym.—Gray FoRK-TAILED PETREL. 

Description.—Adult: Bluish ash, lightening below and on greater wing- 
coverts, palest, to whitish, on throat and under tail-coverts; greater wing-coverts 
and tertials tipped with white; secondaries broadly edged with white; lesser wing- 
coverts, edge of wing, and exposed primaries dusky; inner webs of primaries lighter 
ash to whitish, and outer web of outer tail-feather definitely white; a dusky patch 
about eye. Bill and feet black. Length 203.2-228.6 (8.00-9.00); wing 152.4-165.1 
(6.00-6.50); tail 101.6 (4.00); forked about 25.4 (1.00); bill 15.2 (.60); tarsus 21.6 (.85). 

Recognition Marks.—Towhee size, but appearing more like Nighthawk; ashy 
blue coloration distinctive. 

Nesting.—Egg: Subelliptical; pure white or with ring of reddish brown dots 
about larger end; placed at end of small burrow in earth-bank. Av. of 5 California- 
taken specimens: 31.75 x 24.4 (1.25 x .96). Season: June. 

General Range.—North Pacific Ocean and adjacent portion of Arctic Ocean. 
Breeds from Commander and Aleutian Islands south to islands off northwestern coast 
of California. Wanders (?) north to Kotzebue Sound, Alaska, and south to southern 
California. 


2010 


The Fork-tailed Petrel 


Distribution in California.— Breeds on islands off coast of Del Norte and Hum- 
boldt counties, south to Trinidad. Irregularly (?) south at other seasons to San Pedro 
and Sunset Beach, Orange County (Wyman). 


Authorities.—Cooper, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 1868, p. 10 (San Pedro); 
Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. i., 1907, p. 38, pl. 11; Clay, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, 
p. 205 (coast of Del Norte and Humboldt counties, breeding); Loomis, Proc. Calif. 
Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 177 (syst.). 


TO MR. C. IRVIN CLAY, of Eureka, belongs the honor of first 
discovery of the Fork-tailed Petrel as a breeding bird of California. In 
one of those privileged hours which are sometimes allotted to good bird- 
men, Clay had ransacked Whaler Island, in the harbor of Crescent City, 
and discovered Fork-tails breeding in some numbers. He secured eight 
eggs, of which five are now in the Museum of Comparative Oédlogy, and 
skins of two parents. The date, May 14, 1916, was decidedly early in 
comparison with the nesting dates of O. /. bealt. 


Taken in Humboldt County Photo by the Author 
FARTHEST SOUTH 
MR. CLAY SEARCHING FOR FORK-TAILED PETRELS AT THE SOUTHERNMOST KNOWN BREEDING STATION OF THE 
SPECIES 


20L1T 


The Leach Petrels 


About a month later the author, in company with Mr. Clay, visited 
a rock near Trinidad, variously known upon the maps as Off-Trinidad, 
or Blank Rock. Here in a tiny colony of nesting Beal Petrels, Clay 
unearthed a small gray ‘“‘pincushion”’ which excited my suspicion. The 
water was a little rough and landing difficult, but I demanded a turn 
ashore, while my companion, poor chap, alternately ‘‘fed the fishes’”’ over 
the side of the drifting boat and waved a courageous “‘All’s well!’’ The 
note-book, sharing its owner’s enthusiasm, tells the brief story of what 
followed: 

“Off Trinidad Rock, June 18, 1916. Gulls and Puffins (Tufted) 
galore, but cover scanty and the population as a whole depauperate. But 
here—what’s this? A petrel jammed into a rock-crevice with her tail 
sticking out into a covered fern-way. Underneath her shins an egg. We 
will get that first. Ummm! Pretty big—and pretty hard set. Birdie, 
I guess we'll have to have you too. There, there, now, don’t be naughty! 
You can’t dig a hole in the rock where there isn’t any, and I’ve got you 
by the leg. Out you come! What! Gee Whillikins! It’s a Fork-tailed 
Petrel, the first I ever saw, and the southernmost breeding record for 
the species!’ 

The reader will better understand the author’s enthusiasm when he 
explains that three years spent on the Washington coast had failed to 
discover any nesting site of this elusive species. We understand, however, 
that others have had better luck; and Finley and Bohlman found the 
species abundant off the coast of Oregon. 

Blank Rock yielded us another adult and two more chicks, which 
we left. The station is about fifty miles south of the original discovery, 
Whaler Island, and Mr. Clay still holds the record for ‘‘farthest south,”’ 
for the ‘“‘pincushion”’ lay at least two rods south of my (addled) egg. 

This modest gray bird, which is rather the handsomest of the petrels, 
is also the hardiest, since it breeds on the Aleutian and the Commander 
Islands, and wanders into the Arctic Ocean. 

Beck found the birds at Monterey in June, 1895; and in the month 
of November, both in 1903 and in 1909, so that it is probable that the 
species passes the winter somewhere off our coasts. There is a San Pedro 
record authenticated by Dr. Cooper. 


The Leach Petrels 
No. 413 


Leach’s Petrel 


No. 413a Beal’s Petrel 

A. O. U. No. 105.2, part. Oceanodroma leucorhoa beali Emerson. 

Synonyms.—WESTERN LEACH PETREL. PACIFIC WHITE-RUMPED PETREL. 
“IKAEDING PETREL”’ (extensively miscalled in earlier literature). 

Description.—Adult: General plumage sooty brown, clearest on belly, darken- 
ing on head, back, and breast, blackening on lesser wing-coverts, flight-feathers, and tail, 
lightening to grayish brown on middle and greater coverts, especially upon the edges of 
the latter; the longer upper tail-coverts chiefly white, with sooty shaft-lines, the longest 
ones also narrowly tipped with blackish, the lateral lower coverts more or less extensively 
white in continuation of that of the upper coverts. Bill and feet black. Downy young: 
Entirely sooty black. Length 203.2 (8.00); wing 144.8 (5.70); tail 76.2-88.9 (3.00- 
3.50); forked 15.2-20.3 (.60-.80); bill (chord of culmen) 15.2 (.60); tarsus 22.4 (.88). 

Recognition Marks.—Towhee size but appearing larger by reason of long 
wings; dark brown plumage with white rump; fluttering erratic flight. 

Nesting.— Nest: A few grasses or none, at end of burrow 2 to 3 feet in 
length, in soil of sea-girt rock. Egg: Single, nearly equal-ended; white, nearly im- 
maculate, or with ring of reddish brown dots about larger end. Av. of 30 specimens 
in the M. C. O. coll.: 30.2 x 22.4 (1.19 x .883); index 74.2. Season: June-July. 

Range of Oceanodroma leucorhoa.—North Pacific and North Atlantic oceans. 
Breeds from southern Greenland south to Ireland and Maine, and from the Copper 
and Aleutian islands south to the Kuriles and Lower California. 

Range of O. /. beali—Breeds from Sitka, Alaska (with relations to the northward 
undetermined), south to the Farallon Islands, California. 

Distribution in California.—Breeds abundantly upon the islands off the 
coast of Del Norte, Humboldt, and Mendocino counties, and, less commonly, upon the 
Southeast Farallon, with records from adjoining areas and possibly down the coast. 

Authorities.—Cooper (Oceanites oceanica), Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., vol. iv., 
1868, p. 11 (San Nicholas Id.); Oberholser, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. 54, 1917, p. 168 
(syst.; meas.; distr.; etc.); Grinnell, Condor, vol. xx., 1918, p. 46 (status in Calif.); 
Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., p. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 160, part (syst.); 
Howell, Condor, vol. xxii., 1920, p. 41 (coast of Del Norte County; breeding habits) ; 
Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 147 (life hist.). 


No. 413b Kaeding’s Petrel 
A. O. U. No. 105.2, part. Oceanodroma leucorhoa kedingi Anthony. 
Synonyms.—KAEDING’s LEACH PETREL. KAEDING’S WHITE-RUMPED PETREL. 


Description.—Similar to O. /. beali, but smaller, and with tail somewhat less 
deeply forked. ‘‘Wing 145 mm; central rectrices 73; lateral rectrices 83; tarsus 21; 
middle toe and claw 20; culmen 15.’ (Orig. desc.) 

Range of 0. /. kedingi.—This supposedly smaller race is known chiefly from a 
series of birds taken at sea near Guadalupe Island, Lower California, July 25, 1897, by 
A. W. Anthony. A specimen taken March 22, 1904, by L. H. Miller on the Fish 
Commission boat, Albatross, while off San Clemente, entitles this form to recognition 


2013 


The Leach Petrels 


upon ourlist. Mr. Anthony informs me that the birds have recently (1922) been found 
breeding on certain islands off the western coast of Lower California. 

Authorities.—Miller (Oceanodroma leucorhoa kedingt), Condor, vol. xx., 1918, 
p. 211 (specimen taken off coast of s. Calif.); Oberholser, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. 54, 
1917, p. 171 (syst.; meas.; distr.; etc.); Grinnell, Condor, vol. xx., 1918, p. 46 (syst.); 
Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 160, part (syst.). 

The problems arising from a consideration of the distribution and interrelation- 
ship of the Petrels of the genus Oceanodroma, are without exception the most fascinat- 
ing as well as the most elusive and difficult of any presented by our science. 
In particular, the central question of the forces controlling the differentiation of species 
reaches in this group a commanding climax. Within its narrow limits most subtle 
differences, which theoretically must exist, nevertheless defy detection, while other 
differences are fairly startling in their abruptness. Thus, the dominant type, 
O. leucorhoa leucorhoa (from which our O. leucorhoa beali claims only most dubious dis- 
tinction), dominates the islands along both shores of both the great oceans of the 
Northern Hemisphere. It exists in countless multitudes on a thousand islands stretch- 
ing through at least twenty degrees of latitude and along ten thousand miles of coastline; 
and yet the differences alleged between extremes from the Commander Islands, off 
the coast of Asia, or the Flanneries, off the coast of England, or the Olympiades, off 
the coast of Washington, are so slight that the memory can scarcely retain them. 
And suddenly, on a small group of islands off the coast of California, the Farallons, 
appears another species absolutely distinct. From the Farallons to San Benito, 
through a range of only ten degrees, four such indubitable species appear (including 
Halocyptena microsoma, whose generic difference is based on a slight character), 
and three forms of one of them, viz., O. 1. socorroensis, O. 1. kaedingt, and O. 1. macro- 
dactyla, besides O. leucorhoa (bealt), which breeds on the Farallons and migrates way 
beyond San Benito. There you have it! one species continuous over a highly diversified 
coastal range of ten thousand miles in two oceans, and (accepting San Miguel as a 
breeding station of O. homochroa) four species or six races in a fairly uniform range of 
500 miles along the coast of the Californias. 

The situation is, indeed, so extraordinary that we find ourselves obliged to at- 
tempt some sort of reconstruction of recent Oceanodromine history. The species 
Oceanodroma probably had its distributional, or evolutional, center here on the islands 
of the southern Californias. High differentiation within a limited but interrupted 
(i. e., island) area is sufficient evidence of ancient occupation. One species, the ances- 
tral O. leucorhoa, evolving perhaps on Guadalupe, finding its ancient home overcrowded, 
set about searching for unoccupied territory. Passing over the ancient Farallons, 
already occupied by homochroa, it found such territory in the newer islets of the North 
Pacific Coast, successively released from glacial conditions. Here it flourished like 
the green bay tree, taking on gradually the slightly different characters of larger size, 
paler coloration, and deeper furcation of the tail,—O. leucorhoa beali. From. this 
rich field, members of this group, wafted by some accident of wind or weather, reached 
the North Atlantic Ocean, where, finding similar unoccupied territory, they spread 
rapidly without sensible change of form,—O. leucorhoa leucorhoa. 

Of course this outline is purely hypothetical, but it is not by any means fanciful; 
for every student of evolutionary changes is agreed that uniformity in a given species, 
over an extensive, highly diversified, interrupted area, argues both recency of occu- 
pation and strength of stock. Moreover, the now thoroughly recognized and regular 
north and south migrations of beali-leucorhoa in both oceans, argues a southern and 
relatively recent origin of the species. Beali-leucorhoa is the dominant type of the 


2014 


u0datQ ur uaye yf, 


UDUPYOR “f, Uviuda py puv haqury 7 uv yy dq ydvibopoyg v wos 
JSINT UO [otJod S [eI 


The Leach Petrels 


genus Oceanodroma, and its representatives probably outnumber all other Oceano- 
drome ten to one. In a few millenniums we shall expect to see it break up into as many 
“‘species’’ as there are island groups, or major breeding places, in its now vast domain. 


FINE PRINT is for the ornithologically elect only, and the author 
hastens, with due apology to the neophyte, to speak of Petrels, instead of 
Oceanodrome. But Beal’s Petrel, although so recently brought to recog- 
nition, proves to be rather the key to the whole genus, and a word about 
its history and distribution will not be amiss. When Mr. Anthony took 
specimens of a new petrel off Guadalupe Island in late July, 1897, he sup- 
posed that he was encountering a new species, and, naming it Oceano- 
droma kaedingt, he assigned its habitat as “from Socorro and Clarion 
Islands to Southern California.”"1) Mr. Loomis had found a white-rumped 
petrel on the Farallons in the summer of 1896, but he called it /eucorhoa. 
Moreover, it was very scarce there and was not again seen until Mr. John 
Rowley and I found it on May 30th, 1911. Finley and Bohlman reported 
the bird as Kaeding’s Petrel from the Three Arch Rocks, off the coast of 
Oregon, in 1905; and I found several large colonies of a similar petrel off 
the coast of Washington the following summer. We know, now, that 
these white-rumped petrels breed extensively on the islands off our own 
northern coast, and from there northward to the islands of Bering Sea. 
This prevailing type has, however, been named Beal’s Petrel; and the 
name Kaeding Petrel, formerly in use, has been restricted to a small group 
of birds breeding off the coast of Lower California. 

Of beali as a California breeder we can only say that five specimens 
were taken in 1911 from the crevices of a wall which marked an old Russian 
sealing station on the Southeast Farallon. The species was found closely 
associated with the Coues Petrel, O. homochroa, and two eggs were taken 
on the 3rd of June. It did not occur elsewhere on the island, whereas 
Coues Petrels abounded to the number of thousands. 

Because, therefore, this important species has its center of abundance 
farther north, I may be pardoned for giving an extended account of its 
breeding off the Washington coast. 

The most populous colony has been found upon Dhuoyuatzachtahl, 
an islet of the group known as the Quillayute Needles. The name is a 
Quillayutan compound meaning Rock-where-we-catch-Petrels, and has 
been from time immemorial a breeding place of these tiny Tube-noses. 

On July 20th, 1906, three of us, in company with two expert Indian 
surfmen, set off in a canoe from La Push to visit this rock a mile offshore. 
The sea was fairly quiet and the sky perfect, but the swells crashed and 
roared about the base of the rocks, and landing with cameras was a diffi- 
cult operation. Once ashore, we were obliged to scuttle between waves to 


1The Auk, Vol. XV., 1898, p. 37, Orig. desc. 


ZOU; 


The Leach Petrels 


the nearest point where it was at all possible to scale the rock. 
The islet is about a hundred feet high, precipitous upon three sides, 
but sloping and climbable upon the south. The top has an area of some- 
thing over an acre, and is unique for the abundance and uniformity of a 
rank grass which occupies the greater portion centrally. The grass has a 
stoutly-projecting midrib so that it stands up at a height of two and a half 
feet, its roots being imbedded in a covering of its own waste to a depth of 
six or eight inches more. Circling all about this central bed is a border of 
close-set wiry turf, while a narrow stretch of the dwarf salmon-berry 
bushes, peculiar to this coast, occupies the northern crest of the slope. 
Immediately upon arrival our attention was called to tiny openings 
in the grass, the orifices 
of subterranean bur- 
rows. Sometimes the 
entrance was clear-cut 
and open, with a little 
runway beneath paved 
(more by accident and 
use, perhaps, than by 
design) with little peb- 
bles; but quite as often, 
the mouth of the bur- 
row was hidden by a 
tangle of interlacing 
grass-stems. The tun- 
nels are about two and a 
half inches wide at the 
mouth, and run in from 


: Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
two to three feet. They CALIFORNIA MAMOOK ISKUM DHUOYUATZ 
seldom run straight, but IN OTHER WORDS,, THE INDIAN (‘‘CALIFORNIA” HOBUCKET), IS DIGGING OUT 


= BEAL PETRELS 
twist about at random, 


widening as they proceed, until a considerable nesting chamber is reached. 

Here, according to the season, may be found two adult birds, a bird 
and an egg, or a bird and young. In the first case it is the male bird keep- 
ing company with his mate for several weeks before the single egg is laid. 
During this honeymoon it is possible that the birds dine out together; but 
when the egg is laid, the male spends the day at sea, visiting his brooding 
mate only at late nightfall. Likewise, after the chick is hatched, it is the 
male who provides the food for mother and babe until such time as the 
rising appetite of the junior troglodyte requires the services of both parents. 

When removed from the nest, the parent bird appears dazed and 
blinded, and seldom seeks to escape by flight. Taken into the hand, it 


2016 


The Leach Petrels 


jams its head into the recesses of the fingers, thinking only of cover. 
Placed upon the ground, it pokes about the grass in a fidgety, near-sighted 
way, looking fora hole, and does not scruple to enter the hole of a neighbor 
rather than remain under surveillance. Once one flew from the hand and 
made off to sea with a bewildered, hesitant motion, a jerkiness somewhat 
similar to that of a nighthawk at close quarters. Others I threw into the 
air, and they too made off to sea sheepishly, like waifs caught sleeping on 
a park bench and told to move on. 

In no instance did the mother betray any interest in her young, or 
realize that it, too, was in the same plight. Now and then birds bit us, but 
their bills were not strong enough to inflict injury. When molested, 
Petrels eject an ill-smelling oil, which either proceeds from or involves the 
nostrils in its discharge. This in turn is followed speedily by the contents 
of the crop, if such are available; but whether this offering is intended for 
a ransom or is only the result of fright, one cannot certainly tell. 

We had been working in the turf plot looking only for fresh eggs and 
taking pains to replace the chicks—tiny balls of slate-colored down with 
feet of a deathly pallor and bills jet black; stupid, also, as balls of mud— 
wherever found. But after having waded through the heavily grassed 


Taken in Washington Photo bythe Author 
NEST AND EGG OF BEAL PETREL 


2017 


VINUYOAITVO JO #WOAXGONVHIO AHL 
pjp24nf{'O $1SU3044090S *7°O i 
DOAyIOWOY *O DIUuDjaIUL “CO +3u1pavy *1°O #039 "1°O 


The Leach Petrels 


HAUNT OF BEAL PETREL 


THE STATION IS THE ONE SHOWN ON PAGE 20I1I. MR. CLAY HAS JUST RELEASED A BEAL PETREIL, WHICH MAY BE 
DISCERNED AT THE LEFT. (LOOK FOR A FLY SPECK.) 


portion of the island once or twice, the thought occurred to us that there 
might be Petrels there. Judge of our surprise, however, when we found 
the vegetable mold a perfect labyrinth of Petrel burrows! So light was 
the accumulation in point of density (once the growing blades were pene- 
trated) and so abundant the birds that one had only to dig with the hands, 
dog-fashion, and birds, eggs, and young were the invariable result. The 
whole half-acre of grass proper was a seething mass of Petrels. Yet from all 
that host not a sound to betray their presence! The sun shone calmly and 
the breeze blew benignly. Nothing disturbed the serenity of the day save 
the restless quaverings of the always hostile gulls. There was nothing, in 
short, to indicate that beneath our feet lay a buried city, not once popu- 
lous and now deserted, but now teeming with life, a city of storm-waifs, 
gathered from an expanse of a thousand watery leagues, a city perhaps 
more populous than any other colony of the class Aves within a hundred 


2019 


The Leach Petrels 


leagues, lying silent where the eye saw only waving grass. The promise of 
the situation so wrought upon us that we determined to return at evening 
some time later, and did so on Monday evening following, July 23rd. 

We arrived a little after nine o’clock, provided with matches, bedding, 
and water, and prepared to spend the night. We found the island still 
silent, but we used the remaining moments of twilight to further deter- 
mine the limits of the colony; and found that the dense salmon-berry 
thicket was likewise occupied by Petrel burrows. 

At about ten o’clock the first note was sounded—from the ground. In 
quality like that of a tiny cockerel, in accent like that of a glib paroquet, 
came the cry, Péttérettérétteréll, éttéréttérétteréll. The second phrase is 
slightly fainter than the first, and is, therefore, just suggestively an echo 
of it. After ten minutes, or such a matter, one sounded in the air. By and 
by came another and another. And so the matter grew until by eleven 
p. m. the air was a-flutter with sable wings, and the island a-hum with ?#’s 
and r’s and /’s. This hour was typical of the entire night, although the 
pace was perhaps a little more furious at one o’clock, when we roused for 
another observation. We had spread our blankets in the center of the 
grass field, regretful of the fact that the portion of the population under us 
must needs go supperless for that night. Perhaps, therefore, it was our 
presence which stirred the birds to unusual demonstrativeness, but I am 
not at all certain that this was the case, or that our presence affected the 
situation in the slightest degree. 

The air was full at all times of circling birds, at least several hundred 
of them, probably several thousand. They flew about excitedly, much 
more nimbly than in the daytime, but still erratically, incessantly clash- 
ing wings with their fellows and now and then colliding with such force 
that they fell down into the grass. Those which flew about uttered from 
time to time the characteristic cry, but those a-wing were but a small por- 
tion of the total number in evidence. The grass swarmed with birds work- 
ing their way down through to the burrows, or else struggling out, all 
giving from time to time the rolling cackle which is the accompaniment of 
activity; while from the ground itself came an attendant chorus of cries. 
Taken altogether, there were thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of 
birds in motion, and the total effect of the rustling and the cackling (or 
crowing) was a dainty uproar of notable proportions, a never-to-be-for- 
gotten babel of strange sounds. And in this fairy tumult not the least 
element was the peeping and whining of the chicks, both tended and 
untended. 

The characteristic cry is that given above, but it was frequently 
abbreviated to Péttéréttéréll, éttéréttéréll. This was the only adult sound 
heard save a rolling cry rendered staccato in 7’s and /’s, which came appar- 


2020 


The Leach Petrels 


ently from birds standing at the mouth of the burrows. The note with 
its short e’s is instantly suggestive of the name, and if the notes of other 
Petrels resemble this one, I should unhesitatingly say that the name is 
imitative, and that the classic explanation of ‘‘Little Peter walking upon 
the waves” is, like so many other philological traditions, more ingenious 
than probable. 

Concerning the number of birds in this colony it was difficult to form 
a judgment. We explored fifty nests, representing a hundred birds, in the 
least populous portion of the colony; yet the area affected was no sensible 
portion of the whole, certainly not a hundredth, probably not a five-hun- 
dredth part. Based upon this estimate alone, the number of resident birds 
would run from ten to fifty thousand, and it might easily be much greater. 
I think the birds in the air simply represented the newcomers, who took a 
few turns about the island as they came in from the ocean, preparatory to 
settling down to the business of feeding their mates. Certainly the major- 
ity of the birds were at all times below the ground; while the number in 
transition may be judged by the fact that at one o'clock, when I left the 
bed and groped about in the darkness on hands and knees, I picked up 
birds both from the ground and the grass. 

At four o'clock the volume of sound had subsided, and not above a 
dozen flitting forms were seen; while at six o’clock there was no slightest 
sign to betray the presence of the sleeping multitude. 

In the summer of 1910 another extensive colony of these Petrels was 
discovered near La Push, by the sense of smell, a favoring breeze having 
brought a characteristic whiff ashore from Kwahllalahtahl, half a mile 
away. This pungent, penetrating odor of the petrel, due no doubt to the 
peculiar oil distilled from its food, is very grateful to the nostrils of the 
veteran. The island thus discovered and promptly explored was suffering 
from the ravages of a Peale’s Falcon (Falco peregrinus pealet), which had a 
nest midway of a neighboring rock. The ground about the petrel burrows 
was strewn with wings, and we judged that the royal marauder had to get 
out very early in the morning to accomplish such destruction. 

On another islet, Carroll, we found a few petrels nesting in the shade 
of the spruce-crowned summit, along with the more abundant Cassin 
Auklets. The burrows here were shorter, and the egg was placed on a 
luxurious cushion of spruce-twigs and moss—altogether different from the 
scanty lining of grass, or the bare ground, which is customary in petrel 
burrows. Perhaps there is an incipient subspecies here, O. leucorhoa 
nidificans. 


No. 413c Socorro Petrel 
A. O. U. No. 108.1. Oceanodroma leucorhoa socorroensis Townsend. 
Description.—Adult: General plumage sooty black, blacker and softly lustrous 


2021 


The Leach Petrels 


on exposed wing-quills and tail; browner, deep chocolate brown, on belly; paler, more 
ashy brown on face; an area formed by middle and greater wing-coverts and portion 
of tertials much lighter, drab, the tips of greater coverts still paler, nearly whitish; 
the lateral upper tail-coverts, and sometimes the entire rump, more or less extensively 
white (this character very variable). Bill and feet jet black. Length 203 (8.00) or 
under; av. of 3 spec. from Los Coronados Ids. (skins); 192 (7.56); wing 155 (6.10); 
tail 78 (3.07); depth at fork 21.2 (.83); bill 15.5 (.61), depth at base 6.2 (.24); tarsus 
22.4 (.88). 

Recognition Marks.—A middle-sized petrel, larger and darker than homo- 
chroa, smaller and a little lighter than melania, from both of which it is usually dis- 
tinguishable by the presence of white on the sides of rump. This is really a localized 
representative of the leucorhoa group, embracing the Pacific species, beali, kedingi, 
socorroensis, macrodactyla (enumerating from north to south), monorhis of China, and 
castro of the southern oceans; it is distinguishable from beali of the north coast by its 
paler wing-coverts and the lateral white patches not meeting, or at least less extensively 
meeting, across rump. 

Nesting.—Much as in O. /. beali. Ay. size of 15 eggs in M. C. O. coll.: 29.85 
X 22.35 (1.175 x -88); index 74.9. Season: Late June or early July. 

Range of O. /. socorroensis—Breeds on Los Coronados Islands, just south of 
the Mexican boundary line, and San Benito Island, further down the Lower California 
coast. According to A. W. Anthony, it is fairly common in summer on the ocean off 
San Diego. 

Authorities.—Anthony (Oceanodroma socorroensis), Auk, vol. xii., 1895, p. 387 
(ocean, off San Diego); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 35 (s. Calif. ids.; 
habits. syst.; crit.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, 
p. 160, part (syst.; crit.). 


A GREAT FORBEARANCE, whether wise or no we shall not under- 
take to say, has for decades kept the Yankee out of Lower California. Its 
teeming lagoons and alluring wildernesses have now and then resounded 
to the crackle of revolutionary rifle-fire, but the white man has for the most 
part kept a prudent distance. The political conquest of this portion of 
Mexico has made small headway or none at all in a century, but, more 
fortunately, a scientific conquest of the islands off the west coast has been 
made under such leaders as C. H. Townsend, A. W. Anthony, Walter E. 
Bryant; and, more recently, George Willett, Howard W. Wright, and A. B. 
Howell. ‘‘Fortunately’’; for with the advent of Mexican shepherds or 
fishermen to these islands came rats or cats or other vermin, which, lacking 
the controlling factors of mainland conditions, have nearly done for much 
of the native feathered life. The Island of Guadalupe has been the chief 
sufferer; and this devoted spot now boasts no less than five “‘extinct’’ or 
extirpated species. 

The case of Guadalupe is hopeless, and all scientists are left to mourn; 
but by common consent the islands called Los Coronados, lying off San 
Diego within Mexican waters, are a sort of classical resort (not to say 
plunder-box) for American ornithologists; and the ultimate welfare of the 


2022 


The Leach Petrels 


feathered inhabitants of these islands will lie rather with American for- 
bearance and good faith than with Mexican piety. 

Four species of birds, namely, the Socorro Petrel, the Black Petrel, 
the Xantus Murrelet, and the Frazar Oyster-catcher, have here their 
northernmost stronghold; and their occurrence upon islands of the Santa 
Barbara group or the waters of San Diego is rather incidental to their 
occupation of Los Coronados. 

Mr. Alfred Brazier Howell, being for some months resident on the 
islands in 1910, enjoyed unusual facilities for the study of their bird-life; 
and it is chiefly to his account, published in Pacific Coast Avifauna, Num- 
ber 12, 1917, that I am indebted for information regarding both the Socorro 
Petrel and the Black Petrel. 

The Socorro Petrel breeds only in burrows of its own excavation, and 
appears to require fresh ones each year. For this purpose light loamy 
soil is selected, and the birds resort alike to open situations or to brush- 
covered areas. The nesting tunnels, usually about two feet in length, 
have narrow entrances, much wider than high, and they twist sharply 
either to right or left within a few inches of the mouth. The nesting 
chamber is considerably enlarged and is usually lined indifferently with 
twigs or rootlets. The single egg varies, as do all petrels’ eggs, from pure 
white to those having faint wreaths of lavender dots about the larger 
end. 

The season of fresh eggs is late June or early July; but there is reason 
to suppose that the nesting burrows are provided as much as two or even 
three months in advance of final occupation. 

Unlike its larger relative, O. melania, this form but rarely vomits oil 
when removed from the burrow; but it will often do so on the wing imme- 
diately after being released. In addition to the staple diet of rock lobsters 
in the juvenal stage, young squid an inch or so in length have been found 
in the crops of freshly killed specimens. 

O. 1. socorroensis, as is well known, exhibits a great variety of plumage 
as to its rump, ranging from a phase which has a sooty black rump, nearly 
concolor with the back, to a phase whose rump is as white as any Dealt. 
This variety is not correlated with season, sex, or age, inasmuch as dark- 
rumped and light-rumped birds are found in the same burrow. This 
variability, moreover, appears wherever the subspecies occurs; and 
appears also in the closely related O. leucorhoa (?) monorhis of eastern Asi- 
atic coasts. Howell believes that he has evidence of a historic increase in 
the number of white-rumped individuals; and surmises that we may have 
here a highly plastic form which is undergoing a total, or totospecific, 
change from a uniformly dark to a white-rumped species, rather than an 
incipient ‘‘splitting’’ into races. Whatever be the significance of this 


: 
2023 


The Coues Petrel 


variable quality, it presents an interesting contrast with the stolid con- 
servatism of the other members of the beali-leucorhoa type. 


No. 414 


Coues’s Petrel 


A. O. U. No. 108. Oceanodroma homochroa (Coues). 

Synonym.—Asuy PETREL (name inappropriate). 

Description.—Adult: General color plumbeous black (very deep ‘‘ashy’’), 
clearest on back, crown, and sides of neck, lighter ashy on throat and sides of rump; 
under tail-coverts plumbeous; considerable outcropping of white on under surface of 
wing; belly and sides sooty brown, faintly washed with ashy, the usual light drab or 
flaxen wing-patch formed by exposed edges of greater coverts, or else this patch clear 
ashy (fresh plumage?). Bill and feet black. Length (av. of 7 Monterey Bay speci- 
mens): 193 (7.59); wing 136 (5.35); tail 75 (2.95); depth of fork 24 (.94); bill 13.2 (.52), 
depth at base 5.6 (.22); tarsus 22.2 (.87). 

Recognition Marks.—Towhee size, the smallest of our petrels; ashy cast of 
plumage and absence of white on rump distinctive for size. 

Nesting.—Egg: Single, oval, pure white, or, very rarely, faintly wreathed with 
reddish dots; placed in crevice of wall or rock slide or under driftwood. Av. size 28.7 x 
21.8 (1.13 x .86). Season: c. June Ist. 

Range (Wholly contained within California waters).—Breeds chiefly on the 
Southeast Farallon Island, but also sparingly south to Santa Cruz Island. Obtained 
elsewhere only off Monterey, and in waters adjoining the western Channel Islands. 


Authorities.—Coues (Cymochorea homochroa), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
1864, p. 77 (orig. desc.; type locality, Farallon Islands); Dawson, Condor, vol. xiii., 
I91I, p. 177 (Farallon Ids.; habits; nomencl.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 
1917, p. 34 (s. Calif. ids.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 
1918, p. 171 (syst.; eggs); Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 159 (life hist.). 


UNCLE SAM may flatter himself that he owns the Farallon Islands, 
those guardian rocks which lie like couchant lions some twenty-five miles 
off the entrance to the Golden Gate—and, indeed, it is fortunate that 
Uncle Sam has the say regarding human intruders—but his claims are 
flimsy and superficial in comparison with those of the ancient occupants. 
The real owners of these storied piles are the gulls, the murres, the auklets, 
and the petrels. Their title antedates the Doomsday Book, or possibly 
the Garden-of-Eden decree itself. The claims of the petrels, at least, 
are not obtrusive; and these gentle birds find the works of man,—stone 
walls, mortarless bulkheads, and the tiny railroad embankments, which 
extend from the landing place to the keepers’ houses,—very much to their 
liking. If you would realize the full extent of Petreldom, you must wait 


2024 


The Coues Petrel 


until the sound of the phonograph has died out at the Wireless Station 
and the gossiping keepers’ wives have gone to bed; then steal forth with 
a lantern and listen to the babel of the underworld. Lay your ear to a 
stone wall, which marks some tumbledown Russian fort, and you will 
hear the love song of dusky swains, gallants whose ancestors courted in 
the neighboring rockslides before historic Russia was dreamt of, or ever 
the Great Horde had left its steppes. The walls which support the zig- 
zag pathway up to the old lighthouse, the oldest on the Pacific Coast, 
are vocal with Petrel music; while out of the honeycombed base of the 
tower itself come the same weird sounds. The whole island is a-titter 
with Lilliputian music; but so tiny are the sounds that the ear scarcely 
distinguishes individual notes at thirty feet; and the entire local chorus is 
likely to be drowned out by the voice of a single Cassin Auklet youngster 
yelling for its mother. 

On May 20th, tg11, I pitched a lonely tent in a little level space just 
east of Franconia beach. There was no wind, for once, so when my feath- 
ered neighbors began to tune up at about nine o'clock in the evening, I 
tiptoed over to a short rock wall which had served as a wind-break for 
some crew of seal-hunters. The racket came from the lower courses of 
rough masonry, and there seemed to be at least half a dozen birds “‘going 
it’’ in close proximity. The sounds made by the Coues’ Petrel are notice- 
ably different from Beal’s, of earlier knowledge, being lighter, sharper, 
and much more varied in character. The ‘‘Petteretterell’’ note is sharpened 
and obscured, insomuch that the imitative character of it is almost lost 
to sight. In their burrows or crevices Coues’ Petrels indulge a variety of 
cooing and croaking, or chittering notes—love songs, undoubtedly. In 
the open a sharp, saucy crowing note is often heard, a sort of challenge, 
or look-at-me cry, which I surmise is uttered by the male only. It is 
sometimes uttered a-wing, but more often when the bird is perched on 
some trifling vantage point of rock. This note is wonderfully expressive; 
and although it is pitch dark we can picture the little corporal strutting 
or swelling in an endeavor to attract feminine attention. The little 
fellow is wonderfully alert, too, at this time, and a quick pounce in the 
dark usually drives away but does not capture the singer. 

Investigation of carefully-marked localities disclosed no birds on the 
morrow. From this and other indications we concluded that the birds 
spend only the nights of a certain courting season ashore. This is followed 
by the customary honeymoon period of a week or ten days, during which 
both birds remain ashore daytimes, the male probably feeding his mate with 
the booty of a night foray. After the egg is laid only one bird attends it, 
but this is as often as not the male, and it is probable that there is some 
regular alternation of duties. 


The Coues Petrel 
All Petrel bur- 


rows have a pecu- 
liar musky odor, 
and this character- 
istic odor inheres in 
the bird itself, inso- 
much that a trained 
nostril can detect 
the presence or ab- 
sence of Petrels 
by sniffing at 
the crevices. 
When _ dis- 
turbed or 
captured, 
the bird im- 
mediately 
ejects a 
Sie if @ in fe 
smelling oil 
from which 
its Own SéeH- NESTING GROUND OF THE COUES PETREL 
teur propre 

undoubtedly proceeds. This oil is derived from the tiny squids and 
crustaceans —chiefly the nauplius form of the rock lobster, it is said 
—which constitute the Petrel’s staple food, and represents merely a 
normal product of digestion. This chyme is discharged copiously, 
sometimes to a distance of two or three feet, and it is probably offered asa 
ransom rather than as a repellant... Its forcible discharge involves the 
bird’s nostrils and is attended by considerable discomfort, as subsequent 
sneezings and efforts to clear the nasal passages show. The young are 
fed by regurgitation with this same most assimilable oil; and it is this, in 
all probability, which the male offers to his mate after the lengthy quest 
a-sea. 

The egg of the Coues’ Petrel, pure white or with a faint wreath of 
cinnamon about the larger end, is large for the size of the bird, as is the 
case with most monotokous species. It is about the size of that of the 
Storm Petrel (Procellaria pelagica), decidedly smaller and perhaps a little 
more rounded than that of the Beal Petrel. Its deposition occurs about 
the Ist of June, varying somewhat with the season, and the bird is occu- 
pied with its care and that of the young for fully two months. 

While the interstices of stone walls are undoubtedly the favorite 


Taken on the Southeast Farallon 


2026 


The Black Petrel 


nesting sites of these petrels, the insufficiency of such cover drives many 
to share the teeming rock-slides with the Cassin Auklets, and others to 
burrow in the open ground. Others still are to be found skulking under 
boards or logs in the drift of the tiny beaches. 

The Farallon Islands are given as the type locality, and the species 
is known chiefly from the Southeast Farallon, upon which the lighthouse 
stands. There is, however, an early account of their nesting on San Miguel, 
although this has not recently been confirmed, perhaps owing to the 
changing character of the island surface. Mr. Howard W. Wright found 
a few breeding in the Painted Cave on Santa Cruz Island. Their presence 
in adjacent waters during the breeding season assures us that other col- 
onies will yet be found on the Santa Barbara Islands. Of its migrations 
we know little; and it is probable that it does not depart widely in winter 
from its breeding area. 

The former name, ‘“‘Ashy Petrel,’’ as applied to this bird, is very 
misleading. Its use suggests a type of coloration similar to that of the 
Fork-tailed (O. furcata), whereas the general cast of color is only a little 
less sooty than that of O./. beali. It does incline to ‘“‘plumbeous,”’ but is 
much nearer black than “‘ashy.’’ Rather than perpetuate this misconcep- 
tion, we recommend the use of the name of the original describer, Coues. 


No. 415 


Black Petrel 


A. O. U. No. 107. Oceanodroma melania (Bonaparte). 

Synonym.—BLack FORK-TAILED PETREL. 

Description.—Adult: In general sooty black; color of wing-quills and tail 
scarcely more intense than cervix and lesser wing-coverts; paler, sooty brown, below; 
palest, drab or even whitish, on tips of middle and exposed portions of greater wing- 
coverts. Length (av. of to Monterey specimens): 232 (9.13); wing 174.7 (6.85); tail 
83 (3.27), depth of fork 25.8 (1.02); bill 15.3 (.60), depth at base 7 (.27); tarsus 31.9 
(1.25). 

Recognition Marks.—The largest and blackest of the California petrels; o 
white on rump; much larger than homochroa. 

Nesting.—Much as in O. I. beali. Av. size of egg 35.1 x 25.9 (1.38 x 1.02). 
Season: Late June, early July. 

General Range.—Breeds from Los Coronados Islands south to Tres Marias 
Islands, off coast of western Mexico. Forages north at least to Monterey. 

Distribution in Californias—Common in summer in southern coastal waters 
and around the Santa Barbara Islands, and ranges north to Monterey. Not known 
to breed in California, but probably does so. 


2027 


The Black Petrel 


Authorities.—Bonaparte (Procellaria melania), Compte Rendu, xxxviii., 1854, 
p. 662 (orig. desc.; “‘Calif.’’); Godman, Monogr. Petrels, pt. i., 1907, p. 24, pl. 6 (Santa 
Barbara Ids.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 32 (s. Calif. ids.; nesting, 
habits, etc.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, 1918, p. 174 (syst.). 


GIVEN the knowledge of its nesting site, it is comparatively easy 
to learn something, whether by furtive methods or violent, of the behavior 
of any species of petrel—thus, that it lays a single white egg in a burrow, 
that it throws up an ill-smelling oil when disturbed, etc., etc. But the 
little we have been able to learn of the behavior of petrels at sea, where 
they spend at least two-thirds of their time, is like radium for rarity. 
They that go down to sea in ships bring their own terrors with them, 
insomuch that these timid little foam-flutterers are not minded to tarry 
and see what this monstrous black object looming large upon a boundless 
horizon will do to them. A flickering bat-like flight characterizes most 
of them, and the absence of curiosity, such as excites many oceanic 
species. Food is either snatched from the surface of the ocean in passing, 
or else hastily gulped down as the bird sits uneasily upon the water. 
Solitary birds are the rule, and they cannot ever be counted gregarious 
upon the ocean, even though abundance of food may temporarily attract 
many to a common center. 

And yet all these rules find exceptions, as witness the following para- 
graph from Anthony, a high authority: 

“In August and September petrels are more common off our south- 
western coast than during the rest of the year. The birds that have fin- 
ished nesting congregate in regions where food is abundant, often follow- 
ing vessels for long distances to pick up what scraps of suitable food may 
be thrown over. I have on several occasions hooked O. melania with a 
small hook baited with a piece of seal blubber, but as a rule they decline 
to be taken in by any such means. Both O. melania and O. socorroensis 
will at times dive a foot or more below the surface for a piece of meat 
that is sinking if they are hungry, but diving seems to be out of their 
usual line of business and is only resorted to when food is scarce. They 
seem to be unable to get below the surface of the water without first 
rising two or three feet and plunging or dropping, exactly as I have seen 
the Black-footed and Short-tailed Albatrosses dive under similar cir- 
cumstances.” 

Mr. Anthony first encountered the Black Petrel on the 21st of April, 
1896, on the Coronado Islands, which are still the northernmost known 
breeding station of the species. He describes the notes, heard in the open, 
as Tuc-a-roo, tuc-tuc-a-roo. One bird he traced to a burrow, where it made 
a clicking sound, but no egg rewarded his search; and he concluded that 


2028 


The Wilson Petrel 


this species, like the Socorro, does not deposit its eggs till June. April is 
the month of mustering and nest-digging; May is spent chiefly at sea; 
June sees the honeymoon and the laying of the egg; July is the moon of 
young birds, and August of weaning and departure. Yet even in August 
certain couples, delayed or disappointed or dilatory, will dodder over eggs 
whose ultimate hatching is against the traditions of their kind. 

A later observer, A. B. Howell, says: ‘‘The best place to look for 

nests is under and between good sized boulders. Here a little dirt may 
be scratched away at the entrance or at the nest cavity. From over a 
hundred nests examined I have found only a half a dozen occupying true 
burrows that may have been excavated by the birds themselves, but as 
these were all in a colony of socorroensis, I prefer to believe that they were 
originally made by the latter and then preémpted by melania. Half a 
dozen more were in very old burrows of the Cassin’s Auklet. 
This form does not nest in true colonies but is apt to be scattered anywhere 
about an island. Occasionally where favorable sites occur, several nests 
will be within a few feet of each other. . . . The young are covered, 
except for the chin, with a slate-colored down. When the feathers appear 
this clings to the ends of them and does not come off until after the body 
feathers at least have made their full growth.”’ 


No. 416 
Wilson’s Petrel 


A. O. U. No. 109. Oceanites oceanicus (Kuhl). 

Description.—Adult: ‘Sooty black, forehead and under surface paler; greater 
wing-coverts greyish; upper tail-coverts white; under wing-coverts sooty; tail black, 
shafts of the lateral rectrices towards the base and the portion of the inner web adjoining 
white; bill black; legs black, inner portion of the webs between the toes yellow. Total 
length about 6.8 [mm 172.7], wing 6.1 [mm 154.9]; tail, lateral rectrices 2.7 [mm 68.6], 
central rectrices 2.45 [mm 62.2]; bill 0.7 [mm 17.78]; tarsus 1.37 [mm 34.8]."’ (Salvin.) 

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; much. like resident petrels, but a little 
smaller. Long legs and yellow webbing of feet distinctive. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Egg: Single, white; placed in crevice 
of cliff or rock-pile or under stones. Av. size 28.7 x 22.86 (1.13 x .90). Season: Feb- 
ruary (Kerguelen Id.). 

General Range.—Antarctic seas, breeding in February and ranging north to 
Labrador and the British Islands, and in the Pacific to Peru. 

Occurrence in California.—Accidental; one record; Monterey Bay, August 
24, 1910, by R. H. Beck (Grinnell). 

Authorities.—Grinnell (Oceanites oceanicus), Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. It, 
1915, p. 29 (Monterey Bay, August 24, 1910, one specimen); Loomis, Proc. Calif. 
Acad. Sci., ser. 4, vol. ii., pt. 2, no. 12, 1918, p. 180 (Calif. occurrence); C. W. Townsend, 
in Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 121, 1922, p. 165 (life hist.). 


2029 


The Common Loon 


PETRELS are professional vagrants, but we have no guarantee that 
this Oceanic cuss, who hailed from Antarctica, will ever turn up again off 
our coasts, as he did (to his undoing—see specimen No. 18742, in Mus. 
Vert. Zool., Berkeley) on August 24, 1910. 

Wilson’s Petrel breeds in certain favored localities on the Antarctic 
Continent, as well as on adjacent islands, and has been seen some sixty 
miles from open water in Latitude 78 degrees 30 minutes South. It ap- 
pears to be tireless on the wing, and has been compared both for the height 
and the grace of its aerial evolutions with the Martins or the Swifts. In 
this respect it is utterly unlike our native petrels, as well as by reason of 
its long legs, which enable the bird to tread the water as though to steady 
itself while picking up a dainty morsel. 


No. 417 


Common Loon 


A. O. U. No. 7. Gavia immer (Briinnich). 

Synonyms.—Loon. GREAT NORTHERN DIVER. 

Description.— Adult in summer: Head and neck black with metallic reflections, 
most intense on lower neck; middle of the throat crossed by a narrow bar of white 
streaks; a similar but wider bar on each side of neck lower down; underparts in general 
pure white, the sides like back; a narrow open-V-shaped anal band of dusky; under 
tail-coverts black or variously tipped with white; upperparts greenish black, sharply 
spotted with white in regular transverse rows,—the spots mostly squarish, smallest 
on the upper back and rump, largest on lower scapulars; the sides similarly ornamented 
with rounded spots; sides of cervix black-and-white, streaked or striped; wing-quills 
blackish, with warm purplish reflections. Bull black; feet and legs black externally, 
yellow internally; iris carmine. Adult in winter and immature: Above dark brown, 
clear and greenish glossed on crown and back of neck, feathers of the back, etc., more 
or less heavily tipped with ashy gray or dull buffy; underparts white; throat white, 
or faintly dusky-flecked-and-shaded, on sides of head and neck, shading or alternating 
with brown of upperparts in large dentations; dusky of sides much restricted. Bill 
light blue with dusky ridge; feet brownish dusky externally, yellowish internally. 
Length 711.2-914.4 (28.00-36.00); wing 355.6 (14.00); tail 66 (2.60); bill 73.66 (2.90), 
along gape 101.6 (4.00); tarsus 86.4 (3.40). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant to eagle size; back black speckled with white; 
head and neck black interrupted by white-streaked spaces; below white; large, pointed 
bill. Large size distinctive as compared with other divers. 

Nesting.— Nest: <A bulky platform of rushes or sticks and trash, on ground near 
water, or else eggs laid in depression of sand or gravel. Eggs: 2, 3 of record; elliptical 
oval, elongate ovate, or, rarely, fusiform; buffy olive or light brownish olive to brownish 
olive, olive-brown, or rarely deep olive, spotted sparingly with darker or blackish. 


2030 


The Common Loon 


Ay. size 88.9 x 56.2 [3.50 x 2.21] (Bent); index 65.4. Season: May, June, July (ac- 
cording to latitude). 


General Range.—North America and the American Arctic regions east to 
Novaya Zemlya; winters south to the Mediterranean. In America breeds from 
highest Arctic latitudes south to northern California, northern Iowa, northern New 
York, and northern New England (formerly to Illinois, Pennsylvania, and Massa- 
chusetts). Winters from the Great Lakes, British Columbia, and southern New 
England, south to Florida, the Gulf Coast, and Cape San Lucas. 


Distribution in California.—A rare breeder in the northern Sierra Nevada 
south (at least formerly) to Mt. Lassen and Eagle Lake. Common in winter along 
the entire coast and occasional on inland bodies of water, even on the Colorado River 


(Grinnell). 


Authorities.—Newberry (Colymbus glacialis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. vi., 
1857, p. 110; Henshaw, Rep. Orn. Wheeler Surv., 1879, p. 333 (Eagle Lake, breeding); 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 10 (occurrence in s. Calif.); Bent, U. S. 
Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 107, 1919, p. 47, pls. (life hist.); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. 
Agric., Bull. no. 8, 1922, p. 16 (under-water activities). 


LIFE BEGAN on the ocean. The ancient mother of us all is the 
ever-pregnant sea. Many of her children have forsaken her, and many 
have forgotten; but some also have remained true through all the ages. 
Among the loyal must ever be counted the Loon, who, though she rears 
her young in some Arctic lakelet or mountain mere, returns ever and again 
to the shelter of the ancestral breast. 

It is the fashion now among scientists, and probably a good one, to 
begin any orderly enumeration of species in any life series with the lowest 
form. (We have departed from this custom in this work simply because 
the order of interest runs the other way.) By “lowest’’ we mean both 
earliest in point of emergence in time, and simplest in structure. Now al- 
though there are ten or a dozen other and lower “‘orders”’ of bird-life known, 
as, for example, Struthioniformes, the Ostriches, or Sphenisciformes, the 
Penguins, it so happens that the lowest orders found in California, or 
indeed in North America, are those of the Colymbiformes, the Divers, and 
the Podicipides, the Grebes. 

No man claims wisdom enough to judge between the rival claims of 
these two primitive and closely related orders. Indeed, some have 
placed the two groups together, in sheer despair. If we yielded priority 
to the larger (and unquestionably the handsomer) birds, the Loons, it 
would be for sentimental rather than structural reasons, and in recogni- 
tion of that unforgotten loyalty already referred to. 

As we gaze upon some ocean greyhound lying at her moorings, we 
note with kindling eye the graceful lines of bow and stern, the suggestive 
inclination of mast and funnel, and we declare her perfect for her chosen 
element, the sea. We know that a trans-Pacific liner would cut a sorry 


2031 


The Common Loon 


figure on land and a sorrier still in the air, but we do not allow ourselves to 
be disturbed by such comparisons. Viewed strictly as a water-bird, as 
Nature intended, the Loon is a paragon of beauty. Alert, supple, vigor- 
ous, one knows himself to be in the presence of the master wild thing, when 
he comes upon a Loon on guard in his native element. The bird seems to 
move about almost without effort, a single backward kick of one of those 
immense paddles serving to send it forward at any desired speed, while 
the head is turned inquiringly from side to side as if to take your measure. 
A shout, a false motion, the flash of a gun, and the wild thing has van- 
ished, leaving scarcely a ripple to mark its recent resting place. It reap- 
pears, if at all, at a surprisingly great distance, and if really alarmed, only 
the head is thrust out of water to take breath, get bearings, and disappear 
again. 

A Loon is not invulnerable, but an educated bird must be secured by 
stealth or guile, if at all. Generations of gun practice have made the bird 
such an expert diver that, given room enough in which to dive, it is all but 
impossible to shoot one. Once on a northern lake, when I was really desir- 
ous of securing a specimen, I concealed myself behind an eminence with a 
Winchester rifle, and shot down at a supposedly unsuspecting Loon. After 
the first shot the bird turned and paddled slowly toward the ambuscade, 
with what seemed like an amused smile playing about his features. After 
the seventh shot, the disappearing target tired of the game and vanished 
altogether. Poor marksmanship? Nota bit of it. Expert diving! On the 
other hand, I shall never recall without a surge of shame another bird just 
offshore, which was only to have been frightened. I was in full view and 
brought up the shot-gun without attempt at concealment. The bird never 
flinched. Sheer butchery! But how is one to tell an zxgenu from an old- 
timer? I have done with Loon shooting. 

Under water the Loon moves with great rapidity, using its wings to 
assist its progress. It is able, thus, easily to overtake a fish, which it trans- 
fixes by a stroke of its dagger-like beak and brings to the surface for con- 
sumption. When the water is clear enough to admit of it, it is a delight to 
watch the air-bubbles which cling to the diver in the translucent depths, 
like a silvery coat of mail, and which he shakes off only upon emerging 
at the surface again. 

In singular contrast to the Loon’s facility and grace in the water, is its 
behavior upon land. Since the feet are placed so far back, it must stand 
nearly upright, penguin-fashion; and its walk is an awkward, shuffling 
performance; or else, as is more likely to be the case, the bird flounders 
along on all fours. It is said not to be able to take wing from the ground 
at all. In rising from the water the bird humps over in an agony of effort, 
rising only by slow stages, first by threshing the surface of the water with 


2032 


The Common Loon 


wings and feet, then by combined running and flying, until the feet clear 
at last, and the aspirant attains a proper motion. Once started, the 
Loon’s flight is swift and powerful, the wings accomplishing by rapid 
vibration what they lack in expanse. But the most helpless act of the 
Loon’s life is that of alighting. 

One early April day upon an interior lake, the author, with a com- 
panion, had the combined good-and-ill-fortune to be caught out in a skiff 
at the approach of a violent storm. There was a considerable flight of 
Loons in progress; but many of the birds, being warned by the storm signs, 
began to settle from invisible heights toward the welcoming lake. This 
they did, not by inclining the wings, but by moving in small circles, with 
wing-beat restrained to an apparent minimum; thus sinking slowly 
through the operation of gravity. As they neared earth, the earlier 
arrivals circled overhead in stately squads, and exchanged greetings or 
inquiry with others already seated upon the water. A soft, mellow, 
mirthless laugh, Whoogh, hoo hoo, would ring out over the lake and be 
answered from a distance, perhaps a mile away. When the mind of a 
newcomer was thoroughly made up to the painful necessity, say at a 
hundred yards, he ceased beating the air, set the wings stiffly, and began 
to fall obliquely toward the water. No doubt he dreads the shock, but the 
very desperation of resolve is painted on every feature, till—crash! goes 
the luckless fowl and is momentarily lost to sight in the upheaval of waters. 
Some fall like spent meteors, until it would seem they must perish in the 
shock, or at least break bones; especially, since the bird invariably strikes 
the water with outspread wings. No casualties result, however, and a few, 
more expert, come at such a low angle as to distribute the force of impact 
in a long furrow. Talk about “shooting the chutes’’; it was no Yankee 
who invented that game. It was a Loon. 

Faster and faster came the descending birds, and less and less pains 
did they take with the manner of descending until, when the storm-cloud 
burst in good earnest with an all-obliterating crash of rain, the last Loon 
had been gathered to his fellows, and the birds raised an exultant chorus 
of weird laughter. 

Because of its infirmity of gait, the Loon usually nests quite near the 
water’s edge, on some wood-bound lake or solitary mountain mere, so that 
it may glide into the water unobserved, at the approach of danger. And 
because the eggs are of such a perfect mud-color themselves, there is little 
attempt made to conceal the nest. On the contrary, a position on some 
promontory, or projecting log, is chosen, so that the bird may command 
with its watchful eye a wide stretch of territory. Treasure trove the Loon 
considers the stub of some submerged tree broken off at the water line. 
Here, if the water is quiet enough, she heaps up a miscellaneous mound of 


2033 


The Pacific Loon 


grass, moss, roots, and floating stems. The external diameter of this 
island citadel may be as much as three feet, and its depth one; but at 
another time the bird is as likely to deposit her eggs on a sandbar with little 
or no pretense at a nest. 

Young Loons ‘‘dive from the shell,’’ and master water thoroughly 
before they dream of flying. Soon after the chicks are brought off, the 
parents separate for the rest of the season, the male retiring either to some 
unfrequented lake or to the seacoast to undergo the summer moult. At 
this season both birds cast their feathers, so thoroughly, indeed, as to be 
for a time quite incapacitated for flight. When the young birds can use 
their wings, they are taken to salt water, and lead thenceforth an idle life, 
whose chief, or it may be sole, anxiety is the dodging of bullets. 


No. 418 


Pacific Loon 


A. O. U. No. 10. Gavia arctica pacifica (Lawrence). 

Synonyms.—Paciric DivErR. WESTERN Loon. LAWRENCE'S BLACK-THROATED 
DIVER. 

Description.—Adult in summer: (Somewhat similar to preceding species, but 
top of head and nape light bluish gray); chin and throat black with violet and purplish 
reflections, shading on side of neck through black-and-white-streaked area into dull 
smoke-gray on crown and light ashy on hind-neck, the streaked patches connected 
across throat anteriorly by a necklace of short white streaks in sharp relief; underparts 
white, the sides like back but scarcely spotted, the anal dusky band narrowing centrally; 
under tail-coverts wholly black or else white-tipped; upperparts black with purplish 
reflections; feathers of scapulars and interscapulars each with subterminal squarish 
spot of white, thus forming four patches of transverse white rows; wing-coverts speckled 
with smaller oval spots of white; sides of cervix sharply black-and-white-streaked, 
asinG. immer. Bill black, relatively smaller than in zmmer; feet and legs black exter- 
nally, yellowish dusky internally; eyes red. Adult 1n winter and immature: Corre- 
sponding closely with similar stages of G. immer—crown and nape lighter. Length 
(av. of 10 Monterey specimens): 584.2 (23.00);-wing 297.2 (11.72); bill 55 (2.17); 
tarsus 75 (2.95). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; like G. immer, but smaller; top of head and 
nape in summer plumage bluish gray; without white speckling on back, as distinguished 
from Gavia stellata; not to be distinguished out of hand even in breeding plumage from 
Gavia arctica, which is larger. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest and eggs much as in preceding 
species, but egg narrower, sometimes cylindrical ovate and averaging darker, even to 
“mummy brown.” Av. size 75.5 x 47 [2.97 x 1.85] (Bent). Index 62.2. Season: 
June 8—July 23. 

Range of Gavia arctica—Northern part of Northern Hemisphere, south in winter 
to the Mediterranean, the Caspian Sea and Japan. In America as follows: 


2034 


The Pacific Loon 


Range of G. a. pacifica.—Northern portions of North America. Breeds from 
western Ungava and northwestern Greenland, Banks Land, and Point Barrow, south 
to the Aleutians, Alaska Peninsula, central British Columbia, Great Slave Lake, and 
central Keewatin. (Records from extreme western Alaska and the eastern Asiatic 
coast probably pertain to G. a. viridigularis Dwight.) Winters south chiefly along 
the Pacific Coast from British Columbia to Lower California. Casual in several of 
the Central States and on Long Island. 


Distribution in California.—Common winter resident and migrant the entire 
length of the coast and about the Santa Barbara Islands. Decrepit or non-breeding 
birds occasionally seen in summer. Visits bays, harbors, estuaries, and, rarely, neigh- 
boring fresh-water pools. 


Authorities.—Lawrence (Colymbus pacificus), in Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., 
vol. ix., 1858, p. 889 (orig. desc.; San Diego); Evermann, Auk, vol. iii., 1886, p. 88 
(coast of Ventura Co., winter); Nelson, Rep. Nat. Hist. Coll. Alaska, 1887, p. 36 (desc.; 
nesting habits; eggs; young); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 18 (s. Calif. 
ids.); Bent, U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 107, 1919, p. 67, pl. (life hist.). 


HUMILIATING it unquestionably is to be obliged to confess a vir- 
tual ignorance of such a sizable number upon our nearly finished program. 
But the fact is that this bird, although common in winter throughout the 
length of our coasts, is both so wary and so inconspicuous, not to say 
uninteresting, that it seems to have made no particular impression on the 
ornithological consciousness. Divers of this and the succeeding species 
are especially abundant about the Santa Barbara Islands. They are dis- 
turbed by every passing steamer, and are known chiefly to fishermen as 
picturesque objects upon the horizon. It is considered a mark of ill-breed- 
ing on the part of Pacific Divers to sit in the presence of an approaching 
steamer—there might be ladies aboard. Hence, while the beauty-laden 
boat is yet a great way off, the bird summons his forces, brings his feet as 
near as possible to his nostrils, struggles manfully with his awkward fate, 
and finally emerges from his watery bed, a polite, albeit very ungainly 
creature. As the bird rises in air, the head and feet, which were last to 
leave the water, gradually drift apart, the head is thrust forward, the feet 
backward to the natural limit, the wings move through an exaggerated 
arc, and the bird goes on his way rejoicing, a conscious Beau Brummel 
of the seas. 

One occasion only, to the birdman’s recollection, relieves the drab 
impression left by the Pacific Loon. It was the 13th day of April, 1915, 
and it was blowing—well—litile guns, off the west end of Santa Cruz 
Island (as usual!), when I spied a company of loons breasting the wind and 
fishing in the outer surf, just clear of a bold sea-wall. They were very 
wary, but by dint of a snake-like approach and a favoring screen of grass 
upon the cliff crest, I beheld a truly magnificent sight, a squadron of some 
200 of these loons, of whom more than half were in full spring plumage. 


2035 


The Red-throated Loon 


The green water, the curling spume, and this fleet of thoroughbreds, each 
one more perfect than a model from Herreshof’s, made a never-to-be- 
forgotten moment. It was all so eerily simple, as though one had stum- 
bled on the Spanish Armada at anchor in a forgotten cove! 

The Pacific Loon has need to be an expert a-wing as well as a-sea, 
for its breeding grounds are chiefly along the Arctic shores. We do not 
understand, however, why pacifica should tarry with us nearly a month 
longer than does the Red-throated Loon, Gavia stellata, which nests even 
further north. According to Beck, these birds pass Point Pinos in great 
numbers toward the end of May, while stragglers may be found well 
into June. 


[sss eee ES es 3 ass 
Taken in Oregon Photo by William L. and Irene Finley 
PORTRAIT OF PACIFIC LOON 


No. 419 
Red-throated Loon 


A. O. U. No. 11. Gavia stellata (Pontoppidan). 

Synonyms.—RED-THROATED DIVER. SPRAT LOON. 

Description.— Adult in summer: Head and neck light neutral gray, blackening 
on’ crown, and enclosing a longitudinal patch of rich chestnut-red on lower neck and 
throat; upperparts and sides brownish black with greenish reflections, the feathers of 
nape, hind-neck, and sides bordered or spotted with white, sharply on nape and cervix, 


2036 


The Red-throated Loon 


shading through finer spots on sides of neck and running out in the sparse oval spotting 
of back and scapulars (some specimens are almost unmarked on back); underparts, 
abruptly defined from chestnut of lower neck, white; under tail-coverts and band 
across lower belly dusky, as in other loons, the included white area nearly obliterated 
in high plumage. Bill black; feet blackish. Adult in winter and immature: Without 
chestnut on neck; appearing much as in corresponding stage of G. immer, except that 
the upperparts are everywhere profusely and finely spotted with white. Length 
(av. of 10 Monterey specimens): 589.6 (23.20); wing 288 (11.34); bill 51.8 (2.04); 
tarsus 72.9 (2.87). 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; somewhat like G. pacifica, but averaging a 
little larger; chestnut of throat distinctive in summer, and white spotting of upper- 
parts unique in winter. 


Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest and eggs much as in G. immer. 
Eggs indistinguishable from those of preceding species. Av. size 72.5 x 45 [2.85 x 
1.77] (Bent). Index 62. Season: June and early July. 


General Range.—Northern portion of Northern Hemisphere, south in winter 
to the Mediterranean, Black Sea, and China; and in America to southern California 
and Florida. In America breeds from highest latitudes south to New Brunswick, 
central Quebec, southern Mackenzie, Queen Charlotte Islands, and the Aleutians. 


Distribution in California.—Common winter resident and migrant along the 
coast, especially southerly. Casual in the interior. 


Authorities.—Heermann (Colymbus septentrionalis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., 
vol. x., 1859, p. 76 (San Diego); Townsend, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., vol. x., 1887, p. 191 
(Ft. Crook, Shasta Co.); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. Agric., Bull. no. 8, 1922, 
p. 16 (under-water activities). 


WHEN ONE sees a small Loon at close quarters, as from the vantage 
of a wharf, he notes with satisfaction the white spotting of the back, 
which proclaims the Red-throated Loon. Of course it couldn’t be anything 
else, for a Pacific Loon, the one without the white spotting, would not 
let you get so close. My! but it is a pretty sight to see a straightaway 
race between this bird and a herring. The fish rises instinctively toward 
the surface with the bird in hot pursuit, and it takes, it may be, only 
twenty feet after the Loon has come near enough to the surface to be 
seen, for him to catch the terror-stricken sprat. Once on the surface and 
overtaken, the fish tries twisting and turning, but the bird is better at it, 
and has him down in a trice. It is noteworthy that in the case of smaller 
fish at least, the Diver seizes its prey instead of spearing it. 

In the vicinity of Santa Barbara, as at some other points on the 
California coast, we are painfully indebted to the exudations of certain 
oil-bearing strata for intimate glimpses of bird-life. The birds encounter 
the floating “‘tar’’ as they rise from fishing in the kelp-beds. The stuff 
smears their feathers and daubs their wings to such an extent as to inter- 
fere with action. In this plight the bird comes ashore, determined to 
spend half a day cleaning up. Here we find them in all stages of decrepi- 


2037 


The Red-throated Loon 


tude, sometimes partially successful so far as the cleaning is concerned, 
but inevitably sickened by the enteric action of the oil. Usually, when 
approached, the sick birds are able to make off through the surf, although 
the exertion takes just so much more from their fast-failing strength. A 
sick Loon whose portrait I sought did not retreat, but turning upon the 
photographer charged furiously. Her javelin beak struck the front board 


Taken on Santa Cruz Island Photo by the Author 
RED-THROATED LOON: WINTER PLUMAGE 


of the Graflex a resounding blow (and left a sharp dent, too), whereupon 
she turned her attention to the birdman’s shins. Another bird, surprised 
near the water’s edge, sprang to wing ere the camera could act, and struck 
out through the surf. A male—lI will not say the male, for it was winter, 
and there were other loons in sight—saw his comrade’s plight and hurried 
up,—so anxiously, indeed, that he took wing in his haste, and did the 
shoot the chutes act with a fine display of wing and splash of water. After 
this the newcomer pressed toward me, as though to cover his chum’s 
retreat, and paraded up and down at close quarters while the afflicted bird 
was pulling away. It is difficult to believe that either parental instinct or 
sex gallantry played any part here. It was rather an exhibition of pure 
altruism. Explain this who may, but altruism is as deep-seated an instinct 
as that of self-preservation. 

Since Red-throated Loons pass Point Pinos about a month earlier 
than do their Black-throated relatives, I suppose those I observed on 
the 26th of April (1913) from a headland ten miles west of Santa Barbara 
were Red-throats. There was a light breeze blowing from the west, and 
this breeze the Loons, moving in platoons and squadrons a half mile off- 
shore, were breasting briskly. A ten-minute count showed eleven pla- 
toons, viz., 41, 35, 38, 14, 5, 7, 1, 59, 27, 55, 32—totaling 314 birds. 


2038 


The Western Grebe 


The pace was the same at 12 m. and at 2 p. m.; while at 4 p. m. it had 
quickened to a showing of 272 birds in two minutes—say, 20,000 or 
30,000 birds per day. 

Of their occurrence in Alaska, Nelson says: ‘‘At Saint Michaels 
and the Yukon delta they arrive with the first open water from May 12 
to 20, and by the end of this month are present in large numbers. Their 
arrival is at once announced by the hoarse, grating cries, which the birds 
utter as they fly from place to place, or float upon the water. When the 
ponds are open on the marshes the Red-throated Loons take possession, 
and are extremely noisy all through the first part of summer. The harsh 
Qr-r-Za 8r-r, Br-r-ga, ga, gr-r, rising everywhere from the marshes during 
the entire twenty-four hours, renders this note one of the most character- 
istic that greets the ear-in spring in these northern wilds.” 


No. 420 


Western Grebe 


A. O. U. No. 1. 4#chmophorus occidentalis (Lawrence). 


Description.—Adult: Top of head and broad line down back of neck sooty 
black; remaining upperparts lighter brownish black, the feathers of the back varied 
by grayish edgings; primaries dark brown, whitening and with white shafts basally; 
secondaries chiefly white, but variable number of them darker on outer webs; entire 
underparts, including lining of wings and sides of head and neck, broadly, pure white 
with silky sheen, sometimes tinged with brownish gray on sides; lores brownish gray 
or white. Bill slender, sharply pointed, very slightly recurved, culmen black or 
blackish, mandible yellow or olivaceous; iris carmine; feet blackish and olivaceous. 
Downy young: Brownish gray above; white below. Females of this species have 
been described as . clarki, on the ground of smaller dimensions, especially shorter 
neck, and minor differences of coloration. The case is a very puzzling one. We 
frequently meet in winter and in the migrations short-necked individuals that 
would appear to belong to another race, but the center of distribution of such a race is 
not known; perfect gradations are found to exist, and the alleged differences between 
male and female (whether of occidentalis or ‘‘clarki’’) do not appear to hold good. 
Perhaps the best we can say is that the Western Grebe is subject to considerable 
variation both as to dimensions and as to color of bill, lores, etc., and that females 
average smaller. Length of adult male: 609.6-736.6 (24.00-29.00); wing 203.2 (8.00); 
bill about 76.2 (3.00); tarsus 76.2 (3.00). Female (‘‘clarki’’): ‘‘558.8 (22.00); wing 
177-8 (7.00); bill 58.4 (2.30); tarsus 69.9 (2.75).” 

Recognition Marks.—Brant size; long slender neck; long sharp bill; abrupt 
demarcation of black and white on sides of head and neck; no rufous on neck; aquatic 
habits. 

Nesting.—Nests in colonies. Nest: A floating raft or solid pyramid of rushes 
and coarse water-plants, 2 to 3 feet in diameter, at edge of swamp or lake. Eggs: 
4 or 5; elliptical ovate or rarely fusiform; chalky bluish green when fresh, but rapidly 


2039 


The Western Grebe 


becoming nest-stained, buffy or sickly green to dingy brown. Av. size 58 x 37 (2.28 
X 1.457); index 63.7. Season: Ist week in June; one brood. 

General Range.—Western North America, breeding chiefly in the north central 
interior from central British Columbia, northern Alberta, north central Saskatchewan, 
and central Manitoba, south to Nebraska, central Utah, and southern California; 
wintering south chiefly in the Pacific Coast region from southern British Columbia 
to Jalisco, Mexico, east interiorly to Nevada (Pyramid Lake) and Arizona (Gila River). 


Distribution in California.x—Common winter resident and migrant along the 
coast and upon all larger interior bodies of water. Breeds regularly on Eagle Lake, 
Rhett Lake, and Lower Klamath Lake, and irregularly south to Merced Lake (San 
Francisco County) and even San Jacinto Lake; probably also at various points tributary 
to the San Joaquin and Sacramento basins in Tulare Lake and Buena Vista Lake, and 
in northern Mono County. Non-breeding birds linger along the ocean front through- 
out the summer, south to San Diego. 


Authorities.—Newberry (Podiceps occidentalis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. 
vi., 1857, p. 110 (San Pablo Bay); W. E. Bryant, Auk, vol. ii., 1885, p. 313 (probable 
identity of Podiceps occidentalis and P. clarkii); Finley, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 97, 
figs. (breeding colonies at Tule Lake and Lower Klamath Lake); Bent, U.S. Nat. Mus., 
Bull. no. 107, 1919, p. I, pls. (life hist.); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. Agric., Bull. 
no. 8, 1922, p. 6 (under-water progression). 


PERHAPS the most favored region for the study of this most inter- 
esting bird lies within the protected areas of our northern Californian 
lakes, notably Lower Klamath Lake. Here the small remnant which 
managed to escape the ruthless pursuit of the plume-hunters, active as 
late as 1906, is gradually reoccupying the wastes of oozy channels and 
tule islands which have been from time immemorial their peculiar home. 
But in the still undevastated interior of British Columbia and Alberta 
similar conditions of cover exist, so that the breeding populations of these 
countries also, driven forth in winter, fall back upon our southern coasts. 
It is rather, therefore, as a winter visitant along the kelp-line offshore, 
in lagoons, and on the larger interior lakes, that the Western Grebe is com- 
monly known to Californians. 

The fall arrivals are somewhat unsophisticated, and will permit us to 
drift up close enough to observe the cruel blood-red eye which appro- 
priately accompanies the javelin beak. The necks of these birds are 
very mobile and their heads are scarcely at rest for an instant, save as the 
gaze is riveted by fear or momentary curiosity. If fishing is dull and the 
observer on his good behavior, the company will float at ease rather than 
excite itself to pull away; and now and then a bird will seek relief by 
reaching upward and outward with one of its green paddles and wagging 
it vigorously,—apparently with no intended slight. 

Fish form the principal diet of these grebes, and in the pursuit of 
them the birds exhibit great dexterity. Schools of herring and the like 


2040 


Bi 


_- The Western Grebe 
* or % 
becoming nest-stained, buffy or sickly green to dingy brown. Av, size 58 sa 
= 1.457); index 63.7. Season: . 1st week in June; one brood. ; : iMacs he, 
_ General Range.—-Western North America, breeding chiefly in the north central 
interior from central British Columbia, northern Alberta, north central Saskatchewan, 
and central Manitoba, south to Nebraska, central Utah, and southern California; 
wintering south chiefly in the Pacific Coast region from southern British Columbia 
to falisco, Mexico, east interiorly to Nevada (Pyramid Lake) and Arizona (Gila River). 
Distribution in Californis.—Comnion winter resident and migrant along the 
coast and Hpon all jarger interior badies of water. Breeds regularly on Eagle Lake, 
Phett Lake. and Lower Klamath Lake, and ieregularly south’ to Merced Lake (San 
Prancison Contty) and even San Jacinto Lake: probably also at various points tributary 
to the Sait Posnuin and Sacrameste bacins in Tulare [ake and Buena Vista*Lake, and 
in savin Mono County. . Noa-breading tards linger along the ocean front through- . 
ou? the deaimer, south ta Sag Diego 
Agtherities. Newberry (Podicens acctdentalis), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. 
vi. See. p. 110 (San Pablo Bay); W.&. Bryant, Auk, vol, ii, 1885,.p. 313 (probable 
qeaiiy ai Podiceps occidentalis and P. clarkit); Finley, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, D- 97; > 
S48 Geeeeding colonies at Tule Lake and Lower Klamath Lake); Bent, U.S. Nat: Mus. = 
all. mea vO7, 1919, p. 1, pls. gyle hist.); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. Agric., Bull. 
no, 8 1922, p. 6 (under-water MogBession). eM 
ae 
PERHAPS the most avered region for the study of this most inter- 
esting bird lies within théiprotected areas of our northern Californian 
lakes, notably Lower Klagnath§Lake. Here the small remnant which _ 
managed to escape the ruQhléssgpursuit of the plume-hunters, active as 
late as 1906, is gradually e&Apying the wastes of oozy channels and 
tule islands which have bé@m train time immemorial their peculiar home. 
But in the still undevastatecPisterior of British Columbia and Alberta 
similar conditions of covernsixiat So that the breeding populations of these 
countries also, driven forthRa Witter, fall back upon our southern coasts. 
It is rather, therefore, as@ Seger visitant along the kelp-line offshore, 
in lagoons, and on the largag it&érior lakes, that the Western Grebe is com- 
monly known to Californiaz ss ae 
The fall arrivals are Sgheavhat unsophisticated, and will permitusto 
deitt up close enough to #ps€rve the cruel blood-red eye which appro- 
briately accompanies thegatelin beak. . The necks of these birds are - 
ovieg- guobile and their heads are scarcely at. rest for an instant, save as the, 
gaa 22 cPovted by fear or momentary curiosity. If fishing is dull and the 
Gee ever on hix good behavior, the company will float at-ease rather than © 
<<. Jtye¥f Gs pull away; and now and then a bird will seek relief-by ~ 
Mp apkard and outward with one of its green paddles and wagging 
“Exists, apparently with no intended slight. ; Pag 
Sea farm the principal diet of these grebes, and in the pursuit of 
tees Sie es exhibit great dexterity. Schools of herring and the like 


sO, eee Be WS Ay, SOO F yin, hifeo, 


7 4 cas oe a ee 


The Western Grebe 


are followed until capacity is exhausted. Indeed, the apparent gre- 
gariousness of this species in winter is probably due almost entirely to the 
aggregation of its prey; and the size of the grebe company observed is a 
loose index of the number of fish below. If successfully frightened from 
the water, not into it, the birds will scatter without regard to their fel- 
lows. One sees evidence of community feeling, however, in the case of 
small companies, for they will move in close order, diving and resting 
almost simultaneously, while one bird or another assumes the duty of 
watchman, remaining upon the surface and paddling along slowly in the 
direction taken by the submerged flock. 

In diving, the Grebe’s head describes a loop with lightning rapidity, 
and the body springs forward as though to accept a challenge from its 
vanishing leader. Con- 
siderable depths are vis- 
ited, and the bird is by 
preference a fisher of the 
channels, leaving the 
shallows to his smaller 
kinfolk. If surprised at 
close quarters, the Grebe 
almost invariably seeks 
to escape by diving; but 
if there is sufficient lee- 
way, as at the approach 
of a steamer, it will take 
to wing, not without 
manifest exertion. A- 
wing it isa singular look- 


ing creature. The legs, | 2 Soe aS SS) 
sticking out behind and ‘ = p< We 
incli d rard h ashington Photo by the Author 
inclined upward rather NEST AND EGGS OF WESTERN GREBE 


than downward, more 

than counterbalance the unusually long neck, so that the bird looks always 
upon the point of tumbling head foremost. The wings are moved quite 
rapidly, and the bird has no apparent control over its speed, save that it 
tips up somewhat before alighting. Even so, it strikes the water with a 
crash, with its feet spread awkwardly behind at diverging angles. 

But even if he is so awkward in gait, the Grebe experiences no diffi- 
culty in making extended flights, as his presence in the interior lakes in 
May testifies. A colony of nesting grebes has a rare fascination for the 
birdman, for there is about it (pity to say, because the birds have been 
so thoroughly frightened) just that element of mystery which allures. 


2041 


The Western Grebe 


However populous the 
floating city may be per 
se, the owners are pretty 
careful to keep away 
while it is under review. 
It is only by stealth that 
one can unravel the mys- 
teries of Grebetown, and 
a week’s study leaves 
one far from satisfied. 

The requirements 
are an extensive area of 
water-plants, preferably 
arums, but bulrushes 
(the immortal ‘“‘tules’’) 
will do; shallow water to 
match; and fishing privi- 
leges in the open. The 
depth of water in the 
lakes is likely to vary 
from year to year, and 
the nesting ground may 
be shifted to correspond, 
but the nests are usu- 
ally placed in from two 
to ten feet of water. For 
their construction the 
birds secure fresh mater- 
ials, using chiefly green 
stalks and the root- 
Cee eee «stocks of the arums; if 
AN INTERROGATION sone ee oe a sunilony watel, heap- 

ing the material up from 
the bottom until the mass rises several inches above the water; if in deep 
water, forming a floating island loosely anchored to the surrounding vege- 
tation. But in either case, it is large enough and strong enough to support 
the weight of the sitting bird above water. 

Here from three to five eggs are laid, of a delicate greenish blue 
color when fresh, but soon fading and becoming discolored through con- 
tact with decaying vegetation. The Western Grebe takes less pains than 
most members of its group to cover its eggs before leaving the nest. 
Occasionally a few coarse grasses are pulled over the eggs, and now and 


Taken in Oregon 


2042 


The Western Grebe 


then a nest is really covered. The eggs are subject to many vicissitudes. 
Ravens esteem them great delicacies. Forster’s Tern does not, apparently, 
appropriate the eggs, but makes no scruple of driving the rightful owner 
from a nest which she happens to covet for her own uses. One wonders 
at the tame submission of a bird so splendidly armed; but the Terns are 
really very ugly, and have the advantage of being able to strike from 
above. 

All these sources of annoyance, however, pale into insignificance 

before the devastation 
of a storm. Having a 
Grebe colony of some 
fifty nests under sur- 
veillance—in Washing- 
ton, it was—I once lay 
out all night through a 
series of thunder- storms 
—which were the mak- 
ing of the wheat crop 
that year. In the morn- 
ing I found that half of 
the Grebe nests had been 
wrecked and their con- 
tents scattered, while 
iamehalyy of the remainder Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
were badly injured. Two WHERE HE RECENTLY WAS 
days later it was comical 
to note the confusion of ownership which necessity’s law had brought 
about. Scarce a well-made nest but contained eggs of homeless neigh- 
bors. Two held seven, and one, eight, from half as many contributors. 
In most cases these eggs were either abandoned outright by the one im- 
posed upon, or else covered over by a new nest hastily improvised. 
Finley records an instance, on Lower Klamath Lake, where sixteen eggs 
had been piled up by discommoded mothers on a bed of dry tules, without 
pretense of nest. 

Like all others of the group, the young of the Western Grebe tumble 
out of the shell into the water, and the saturated mass of decayed vege- 
tation which for a time held the eggs is never known as home. When 
the brood is hatched, the young birds clamber upon the mother’s back, 
or the father’s, as the case may be, and have a ride quite to their liking. 
Nothing more convenient than this floating palace could be devised; 
besides being a raft and a diving bell(e), it is fitted up with feather- 
stuffed cushions for repose, and upon it meals are served frequently, 


2043 


The Western Grebe 


a la Grebe,—since it is said that the mother can twist her neck around 
without difficulty and bestow a selected morsel upon whom she will of the 
expectant flock. 

Western Grebes mate faithfully and spend much time in close and 
amicable association with their consorts. A proud sight is the male as he 
rows behind or beside his mate. One I saw arched his neck like a high- 
checked horse, with bill close in-and pointing down; and he maintained 
this conscious attitude for a number of minutes. As he did so, the black of 
crown and neck, set off by the curving white core of the throat, made a 
perfect interrogation point. 

A courting evolution sometimes witnessed deserves, whatever its 
immediate significance, the name of wedding march, for it is a stately 
affair, participated in, so far as one can judge, by both male and female. 
In this, the female leading, but probably under the instigation of the cock, 
they rise and tread the surface of the water, standing upright the while 
with outstretched or quivering wings and with necks beautifully arched, 
and they strike the water so vigorously with their feet as to quite maintain 
their elevated position, and to make slow progress forward. The birds 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
WATERED SILK, WITH IRRUPTIVE FIGURE 


2044 


The Western Grebe 


are never less than three 
feet apart and there is 
no apparent difference 
in behavior or interest. 
When a dozen feet or so 
have been covered by 
this stately march, both 
collapse and plunge un- 
der water head first. 
This procession I have 
witnessed several times, 
and it was once partici- 
pated in by three birds 
on equal terms. 

These are rare 
glimpses. For the rest 
the Western Grebe is a 
voice, high and broken, 
like nothing else, per- 
haps, so much as the 
creak of a neglected pul- 
ley-block. Krik, krik, 
krik, krik, comes from 
off the shimmering wa- 
ters of San Diego Bay, 
and you think of the 
pine-clad slopes and 
weedy recesses of Eagle 
Lake in Lassen County. 

ota = : Krik, krik, krik, krik, 
Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author : 

MORE MOIRE comes the weird cry 

from off the bosom of 

the lake, a little anxious now as you bend over the side of your canoe to 

count the eggs; and you pause a moment to recall Point Loma and the 
lemon-scented breezes of Ramona’s land. 

No account of the Western Grebe is complete without some refer- 
ence to the Great Persecution endured by the race at the hands of the 
plume-hunters. At the behest of a cruel fashion, ever on the alert for 
novelty, the virgin fastnesses of the West were invaded in the early 
Nineties by as ruthless a band as ever scuttled ships or fired wigwams,— 
the grebe-hunters. The feathers of these birds, glistening white and 
water tight, made excellent muffs or stoles, or even capes, as warm as 


2045 


The Western Grebe 


ermine; and lorn was the maiden who boasted not even a bonnet snatched 
from the breast of a mother grebe. The hunters, to ease the pain of the 
lorn maiden, stood waist-deep in water behind screens of tules, and potted 
the divers as they rose, one by one; or else they clubbed together and 
“shot up’’ a colony at a time when anxiety for young made the birds less 
wary. In this manner literal tens of thousands of these innocent birds 
were slaughtered within the space of a decade in northern California and 
in Oregon; and those which remain to this day are a mere centesimal of 
the former hosts. 

Yet those men were kind to their own children; were, indeed, good 
neighbors, in the narrower sense,—none readier to sit up with a sick 
friend. And you could more easily have borrowed money from one of 
them than from an average banker. What was the matter? Why, “‘sin”’ is 
largely social; and “‘society’”’ had not yet evolved. Theodore, the Reso- 
lute, gave one twist to the evolutionary jack-screw when he decreed the 
Federal bird reservations; Weeks slipped a timber under in the Federal 
control of migratory birds; and McLean set the concrete base in the 
prohibition of the plumage traffic. A tally was checked on the tablets of 
fate. Birds are no longer shot for their plumage in or for America. 


iskiyou County Photo by Finley and Bohlman 
TWINS OR WORSE 

AT LEAST THEIR GODFATHER WILL NOT UNDERTAKE TO SAY WHETHER OR NOT THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE OF THESE BABY 

WESTERN GREBES. 


Taken in 


2046 


The Holbell Grebe 


No. 421 


Holbecell’s Grebe 


A. O. U. No. 2. Colymbus grisegena holbeelli (Reinhardt). 


Description.—Adult in nuptial plumage: Head and short dense occipital 
crest, heaviest on sides and squarely cut off behind; top of head, including crest, ridge 
of neck behind, and upperparts, very deep hair-brown, or brownish black with a silky 
sheen, pure on head and neck and wings, with slight edgings of dull buffy and ochraceous 
on back; primaries not different; a large white patch on central secondaries (recalling 
the speculum of ducks); throat and sides of head pale ashy gray, becoming white on 
borders; neck in front and on sides bright cinnamon-rufous, shading on fore-breast 
into the silvery ashy of remaining underparts; posterior feathers dusky-tinged; bill 
bluish dusky, varied by yellow on lower mandible; feet and legs black. Adult in winter 
and immature: Similar but duller; throat and sides of head pure white; the rufous 
of neck replaced by ashy-brown; not crested. Bill lighter; feet and legs (of immature) 
mottled with yellow. Length 457.2-508 (18.00-20.00); wing 195.6 (7.70); bill 48.3 
(1.90); tarsus 63.5 (2.50). 

Recognition Marks.—Something under Mallard size (owing to abbreviated 
tail), but appearing larger, nearer Brant size; rufous of neck, when present, distinctive; 
stouter, chunkier proportions; neck ashy in front (in winter), and shorter, heavier 
bill, as compared with Western Grebe. 

Nesting.—Does not breed in California. Nest: A heap of half-submerged or 
floating vegetation in pond or reedy lake margin. Eggs: 2 to 5; dull greenish white, 
except when fresh heavily nest-stained. Av. size 53.7 x 34.5 [2.11 x 1.36] (Bent). 
Index 64.2. Season: c. May 20; one brood. 

Range of Colymbus grisegena.—Northern and sub-Arctic portions of the Northern 
Hemisphere. Breeds north to southern Greenland, Europe, and Kamchatka; south 
in winter to northern Africa and Japan. In America as follows: 

Range of C. g. holbeili—North America and northeastern Asia. Breeds from 
northern Ungava, northern Mackenzie, and northwestern Alaska, south to New Bruns- 
wick, central western Minnesota, northern Montana, and northern Washington; 
winters south, chiefly coastwise, from southern British Columbia to southern California, 
and from Maine to North Carolina, or even to Georgia. In the interior to southern 
Colorado and the Ohio Valley. 

Distribution in California.—Not common winter resident and migrant, 
chiefly along the seacoast. Occasional at Santa Barbara, but not recorded from any 
of the Channel Islands. Interior record stations include Lake Tahoe (Belding), and 
Elsinore Lake (Nordhoff). 

Authorities—Heermann (Podiceps cristatus), Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., vol. x., 
1859, p. 76 (Santa Barbara); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. I, 1900, p. 4 (desc. 
breeding habits, nest and eggs; northern Alaska); Beck, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 4, 
vol. iii., 1910, p. 58 (Monterey); Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 9 (occur- 
rence in s. Calif.). 


OUR CHIFF interest in this rare winter visitor must lie in its points 
of resemblance to and difference from our common species of diving 
birds. Is it a grebe or is it a loon? is the question we ask concerning the 


2047 


The Horned Grebe 


nondescript object which the recurring swells bring into intermittent 
view just inside the kelp-line. For stoutness of bill and sturdiness of neck 
the bird is very loon-like, but its body lacks somehow the regal outlines 
of the clipper-built Gavias. It is squatty, lumpish, ill-defined, instead. 
Holboell’s Grebe is a pleb. Compared with its cousin, the Western 
Grebe, this bird is notably shorter and stouter both as to bill and neck, 
and it does not present so fierce an appearance, even though still boasting 
the carmine eye. The neck, also, is never so pure a white in front, and 
it usually retains a dull rufous wash which further serves for distinction. 

When you have decided that the je ne sais quoi may be a grebe, it 
prepares for diving by first giving a little upward spring, and then turns 
suddenly, with the body almost clear of the water, and shoots down, head 
foremost. Holbelli is, however, quite as able as others of the family to 
flash out of sight without the spring-board motion, or else to fade away 
after the manner of the polite Frenchman. Once, upon a piece of inland 
water, I sighted one of these birds at not over thirty yards. Really de- 
sirous of securing a specimen for the cabinet, I shot, using duck shot and 
an extra rapid smokeless powder. The fellow was possessed—not only by 
“spirits,” but by an inexhaustible fund of good nature, for every time I 
shot he vanished, I know not how, only to reappear instantly, unscathed 
and smiling, to paddle a little nearer. 


No. 422 


Horned Grebe 


A. O. U. No. 3. Colymbus auritus Linneus. 


Description.—Adult in nuptial plumage: Forehead and crown, with throat 
and sides of head around on nape, sooty black, deepening and becoming glossy pos- 
teriorly; area included by these patches (lores and sides of crown) buffy ochraceous, 
changing to rufous on lores and the short dense occipital crest; neck in front and on 
sides and fore-breast rich cinnamon-rufous, shading on breast into the satiny white 
of belly; sides (well up under wing) and flank patches tinged with rufous and overlaid 
with some dusky; upperparts grayish black, becoming grayish brown on wings and 
varied by some edging of lighter grayish brown; primaries clear light brown; secondaries 
mostly white, forming a quasi speculum. Bill black with yellow on lower mandible 
and tip; feet dusky externally, internally mostly yellow. Adult in winter and imma- 
ture: No rufous anywhere; above uniform grayish black; below, including sides of 
head, pure white, sometimes tinged on neck and fore-breast with ashy brown; spar- 
ingly dusky-shaded on sides; bill with less black. Length 317.5-381 (12.50-15.00); 
wing 130.4 (5.37); bill 23.6 (.93); depth at base 8.1 (.32); tarsus 46.2 (1.82). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; breeding plumage with black and red on 
head (especially red lores) distinctive for size; slender bill; the pure white of throat and 


2048 


The Horned Grebe 


Taken in North Dakota Photo by Edwin Reiber 
HORNED GREBES AT HOME 


sides of head contrasting with blackish above affords the best field mark in winter; 
in winter plumage not certainly distinguishable from the next species though averaging 
larger. 

Nesting.— Does not breed in California. Nest: Of half-submerged or floating 
vegetation, usually anchored to reeds growing in swamp water. Eggs: 2 to7;elongated 
oval, pale greenish white, but usually more or less discolored by nest. Av. size 44.5 
X 30 (1.75 x 1.18). Season: June. 

General Range.—Northern part of Northern Hemisphere; south in winter to 
the Mediterranean and Caspian seas and Japan. In America breeds from southern 
British Columbia, northern Utah, northern Nebraska, southern Ontario and north- 
eastern Maine, north to the Lower Yukon Valley, northern Mackenzie, central Kee- 
watin, and the Magdalen Islands. Winters from British Columbia, the Great Lakes, 
and Maine south to southern California, the Gulf Coast, and Florida. 

Distribution in California.—Fairly common winter resident, chiefly along 
the seacoast northerly; less common southerly; casual upon the larger inland bodies 
of water; sometimes lingers well into spring. 

Authorities.—Cassin (Podiceps cornutus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., vol., 
xiv., 1862, p. 323 (Calif.); Loomis, Proc. Calif. Acad. Sci., ser. 2, vi., 1896, p. 14 (Mon- 
terey Bay, winter). 


APPARENTLY nothing is more attractive to a school of herring 
(all little fish which attend school are herring for practical purposes) 


2049 


The Horned Grebe 


than a maze of piles supporting a wharf. They crowd into the shadowy 
aisles and survey the retreating vistas with the dumb wonder of children 
at Karnak. A few nibble at the hieroglyphics traced by barnacles on 
the pillars, or tweak in mischief at the wan whiskers of the serried anem- 
ones. Suddenly a silver shudder thrills the school. A flash of white 
sides is followed by a dash for the depths, and there emerges from the 
tumult a gray apparition which resolves itself into a panting bird. An 
instant gleam as of fins near the bird’s beak tells you that another fish 
has gone to Grebe; but just how you cannot tell, for it was all so sudden. 
The diver pauses a moment to consider the danger of the kindly eyes 
that stare down at him, recalls that art is long and fish are fleeting, and 
is off again hot-foot to urge the merry chase under water. 

They are innocent, happy little souls, these Hornies, and one is 
tempted to look upon them as children, especially if he is used to the 
grown-up Westerns. Once I stole upon a little company at early morn, 
as they rested after a long migration flight. Six of the dainty creatures 
were dancing before me on the gently ruffled surface of the water-works 
pond. ‘They saw the bird-watcher plainly enough some thirty feet away, 
but accepted him as a part of bountiful nature and gave themselves to 
slumber. In sleeping they draw the head back and settle it between the 
shoulders, thrusting the bill down, precisely, to the right. Now and 
then one lifts its head and describes a wary circle of reconnaissance, 
but is soon reassured and resumes its slumbers. While taking these 
cat-naps in my presence, they swim and whirl automatically and main- 
tain their general position, as though gifted with double consciousness. 
There are five males in the company, with one female, and the white of 
their breasts and throats glistens purely in the morning sun, for it is 
autumn; and I steal away with a sense of privilege, as though I had seen 
fairies caught out of bounds. 

In the springtime one may inspect the wedding garments from no 
more romantic a position than the wharf again, before the northern 
bridal tour is undertaken. At such a time one rubs his eyes to see the 
transformation wrought upon our modest gray friends of autumn. Taw- 
ny, chestnut, chocolate, wine-red and shiny black are now in evidence, 
and the extraordinary ruff, or aureole, which surrounds the head, detracts 
materially from the solemnity of the occasion. 

Birds of this species take to wing readily with or without provoca- 
tion, and although they have the grebe habit of thrusting the legs out 
straight behind, they are not ungraceful flyers. The wing movement is 
quite rapid and the white wing-patches appear prominently in flight. 

Owing to the exceeding difficulty of distinguishing in winter between 
“Horned”’ Grebes and ‘‘Eared’”’ Grebes, it is impossible to pronounce 


2050 


; The nee Grebe 


than a maze of piles supporting a eee They jan into La oe oe 
aisles and survey the retreating vistas with the dumb wonder of children 
at Karnak. A few nibble at the hieroglyphics traced by barnacles on — 
the pillars, or tweak in mischief at the wan whiskers of the serried anem- 
ones. Suddenly a silver shudder thrills the school. A flash of white — 
sides is followed by a dash for the depths, and there emerges from ‘the 
tumult a gray apparition which resolves itself into a panting bird. An | 
instant gleam as of fins near the bird’s beak tells you that another fish 
has gone to Grebe; but just how you cannot teil, for it was all so sudden. | 
NS The diver pauses a moment to consider the danger of the kindly eyes 
that stare down at him, recalls that art is long and fish are fleeting, and 
is off again hot-foot to urge the merry chase under water. 
Rees They are innocent, happy tittie souls, these Hornies, and one is” 
4 tempted to look upon them as children, especially if he is used to the 
as grown-up Westerns. Once [ stole upen a little company at early morn, 
i as they rested after a long migration flight. Six of the dainty creatures 
were dancing before me on the gently ruffled surface of the water-works 
pond, They saw the bird-watcher plainly enough some thirty feet away, 
but accepted him as a part of bountiful nature and gave themselves to 
slumber. In sleeping they draw the head back and settle it between the 
shoulders, thrusting the bill down, precisely, to the eta Now and 
then one lifts its head ane describes a wary circle of reconnaissance, 
but is saon reassured and&refumes its slumbers. While taking these 
cat-naps in my presence, (Qeeswirn and whirl automatically and main- 
tain their general position Gissthough gifted with double consciousness. 
There are five males in theec&npany, with one female, and the white of 
‘their breasts and throats listens purely in the morning sun, for it is 
autumn: and 1 steal away with a sense of privilege, as though I had seen 
fairies caught out of bounds. = oA > 
In the springtime one ay inspect the wedding garments from no 
more romantic a position Zhan the wharf again, before the northern == 
bridal tour is uadertaken. 4A$ such a time one rubs his eyes to see the 3 
transformation wrought upon our modest gray friends of autumn. Taw- 
ny, chestnut, chocolate, wine-red and shiny black are now in evidence, 
dad the extraordinary ruff, or aureale, which surrounds the head, detracts 
matenady fram the acdlemnity of the occasion. ae 
Rirds of this apecies take ta wing readily with or without provoca- 
tien, am? altiwugh they have the srebe habit of thrusting the legs out 
Straieht behived, eteey are net — ful flyers. The wing movement is. 
qaite sapel and ihe white wingqmtches appear prominently in flight. 
Owing to the exccetims ei me uty of distinguishing 1 in winter between 
“there” Crebes awit ‘Rarul’” tarebes. it is impossible to pronounce 


ota . 


CAP eS gts aie 


The American Eared Grebe 


upon the relative abundance of the two species. It seems probable, how- 
ever, that auritus is more abundant coastwise, while nigricollis keeps 
largely to quieter waters,—lagoons and lakes. Horned Grebes are not, 
strictly speaking, gregarious; they are, indeed, most likely to be seen 
singly or in pairs; but good feeding grounds are not shunned for fear of 
collisions; and one sometimes sees a score or more feeding over a space of 
two or three acres when the tide is coming in. It is on such semi-sociable 
occasions that they raise a curious, far-sounding note of complaint, 
keogh keogh, with a nasal twang; or more sharply, keark keark; or even 
yark yark. 


No. 423 


American Eared Grebe 


A. O. U. No. 4. Colymbus nigricollis californicus (Heermann). 


Description.—A dult in breeding plumage: A broad fan-shaped patch of length- 
ened feathers on side of head, chiefly behind eye, rich straw-yellow to golden brown; 
remainder of head and neck (including prominent crest) and chest, jet black; upper- 
parts blackish, sometimes washed on upper back with rufous; primaries chocolate- 
brown, washed with duller brownish; secondaries chiefly white; sides broadly rich 
rufous or wine-red—this color (in highest plumage) washed across breast below black 
and across crissum, and so surrounding silky grayish white of lower breast and belly. 
Bill black; feet dull olive, blackening on soles; eyes flaming scarlet, their lids orange. 
Adult in winter: Upperparts, neck all around, and sides grayish dusky, blackening 
on top of head and on back; no rufous; no unusual feathers or crests on head: throat 
and cheeks white; thus an obscurely-co'ored dusky-and-white bird, difficult to dis- 
tinguish superficially from the Horned Grebe, C. auritus, in winter. Length 304.8- 
355-6 (12.00-14.00); wing about 127 (5.00); bill 25.4 (1.00); depth at nostril 5.6 (.22); 
width 6.6 (.26); tarsus 40.6 (1.60). 

Recognition Marks.—Teal size; single black crest and fan-shaped yellow 
auricular patches distinctive in breeding plumage. In winter plumage very difficult to 
distinguish from the Horned Grebe—however, note size, averaging smaller; somewhat 
darker colored upperparts; more distinct wash of dusky on fore-neck; less trace of 
special feathering on head; bill of different proportions, somewhat flattened at base. 

Nesting.—Nests in colonies. Nest: A floating raft of rootlets, moss, and 
light water-plants, moored in the deeper water at edge of swamp. Eggs: 3 to 8; light 
bluish green, rapidly fading and becoming nest-stained. Av. size 43.5 x 30 [1.71 x 
1.18] (Bent); index 68.9. Season: c. June 1; one brood. Escondido, one record, 
Apr. 22, 1906, 7 eggs (Sharp). Nigger Slough, Los Angeles Co., 15 pairs, eggs, July 
8, 1911 (H. J. Lelande). Bear Lake, June 22, 1907, eggs (Willett). San Jacinto Lake, 
June 8, 1897, 50 pairs (Ingersoll and Judson). Los Banos, June 3, 1914, one pair, 
3 eggs (Dawson). Lake Tahoe, June 29, 1902, 4 eggs (Ray). Mono Lake, abundant. 

Range of Colymbus nigricollis—Temperate portions of Eurasia and North 
America, south in winter to Africa, India, and China, and in America to Guatemala. 

Range of C. n. californicus—Western North America. Breeds from south 
central British Columbia, Great Slave Lake, and central Manitoba, south to southern 


2051 


The American Eared Grebe 


Texas, northern New Mexico, northern Arizona, and southern California. Winters 
chiefly west of the Rocky Mountains from Washington to Texas, Guatemala, and south- 
ern Lower California. 

Distribution in California.— Breeds abundantly on Mono Lake, and commonly 
east and north of the Sierras at various stations. Also casually or in small numbers 
throughout the central valley and at Elizabeth Lake, Bear Lake, San Jacinto Lake, 
and formerly near Escondido. Winters commonly on lakes and reservoirs or estuaries 
and bays, less commonly along the water front. 


Authorities.—Heermann (Podiceps californicus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
vol. vii., 1854, p. 179 (orig. desc.; Calif.); Grinnell, Univ. Calif. Pub. Zool., vol. v., 
1908, p. 51 (desc. breeding colony on Bear Lake, San Bernardino Mts.). 


CHRISTENED californicus by Heermann, who first distinguished 
the American Eared Grebe from that of the Old World, the species finds, 
nevertheless, its center of distribution much further north. If the follow- 
ing paragraph retains, therefore, a certain northern flavor, it may claim 
authenticity in the face of meager California notes. 

It has been a blazing day, for June, even in the Big Bend country 
(in Washington), but now the sun has sunk behind the Cascades and the 
earth has already begun to exhale the fresh odors of recovering darkness. 
The modest chores of camp-life are done, kindling split for morning and 
laid away under the flap of the tent, a fresh covering of rye grass cut to 
cushion the bumps in the ground which gradually revealed themselves 
in last night’s slumbers; and now we may lounge by the brink of the lake, 
flip pebbles at its unruffled face, or resign ourselves to the peace of night- 
fall. Most birds have properly tucked head under wing, and even the 
Nighthawks are less feverish in their exertions; but not so with the 
Eared Grebes. It is the magic hour of courtship, and near and far from 


Taken on Laguna Blanca Photo by the Author 
EARED GREBE IN WINTER GARB 


2052 


The American Eared Grebe 


fs Sk So SSSA Se “SS a Se 
Taken in Siskiyou County Photo by 
PORTRAIT OF EARED GREBE 


the open water or its weedy margins sounds the mellow poo-eep poo-eep of 
these idyllic swains. The sound is given deliberately with a gently rising 
inflection, but seems to vanish into silence at the end with a sort of saber- 
like flourish. Now and again some Romeo, more ardent than his mates, 
bursts into an excited hicko rick’up, hicko rick'’up, hicko rick'up. The 
birds spread freely all over the lake, irrespective of their nesting haunts, 
and so numerous are they that at times they maintain a chorus of the 
volume and persistency of that furnished by a first-class frog-pond 
in March. 

How handsome these creatures really are we shall see by the morn- 
ing light, when a pair of them, accepted lovers, come into our cove in 
quest of provender. There is no partiality shown by Nature to either 
sex in the way of wedding garments. The upperparts and head are of 
shining black, save for the fan-shaped patches on the sides of the face, 
which are whitish or straw-yellow above and rufescent below, while the 
sides of the bird, so prominent in a grebe, are pure rufous. The eye is 
fiery red, so bright as to appear to impart a glow to the face, visible 
to the naked eye at forty paces. 

Courtship often makes its victims reckless, but the bird recovers 
caution as it ventures south to winter. Three of these saucy little 


2053 


The American Eared Grebe 


divers were observed from a blind on Laguna Blanca, near Santa Barbara. 
They “had their suspicions,’ so that although the excitement of the sub- 
marine fishing led them often towards shore, each bird faced away prompt- 
ly after its emergence. As it pulled away with strong stroke, it also 
spread out its rear plumage (it is hardly proper to speak of a grebe’s 
tail) in a conspicuous fan-shaped fluff. Whether this movement was 
intended as a menace or a sign of derision levelled at the suspected 
stranger, or whether it was only a ‘“‘banner mark”’ for the guidance of 
its comrades, I could not tell. If I could have been real sure—but then 
I had no gun. A hundred feet seemed about the proper limit, at which 
point the bird would stop, thumbing its nose en arriere, and would recon- 
sider the question of diving. In going below individuals differed marked- 
ly both in method and vigor. All leaped into the air, indeed, but one of 
them merely turned over in his tracks, while another, more active, 
cleared a horizontal space of untouched water more than a foot in width 
each time he dived. 

Some confusion still exists between the nesting of this bird and 
that of the Pied-billed Grebe. The fact is, the Eared Grebe is ezther 
solitary or gregarious at nesting time. It nests also from sea-level to 
the highest altitudes which afford sufficient cover of water-plants. 


Taken in Merced County Photo by the Author 
A COVERED NEST 
2054 


aye] ivog uo uaye 7, 


IMAL “PAL TY O14 yy 4g ydvibojoyd v wordy 


90.19 auld posaouqns Aq pa1oyouy 


aqaIX) parley 6/u 


The American Eared Grebe 


Taken in Mono County Photo by the Author 
EARED GREBES ON MONO LAKE 


Taken on Big Bear Lake Photo by Wright M. Pierce 
A NESTING COLONY IN SUBMERGED PINE 2055 


The American Eared Grebe 


Colonial nesting is more characteristic, and identification under such 
circumstances is easy. I have touched a dozen nests with an ordinary 
two-bladed paddle while my canoe was at rest. On the other hand, 
solitary nests may occur almost anywhere, even miles from conspecific 
neighbors. The eggs of the two species are absolutely indistinguishable 
in size and color, but the Eared Grebe is a little less prolific. Four or 
five eggs usually constitute a set, as against the seven or eight of 
P. podiceps. Nests are usually placed in open water, and are oftener 
floating islands than solid pyramids of decaying vegetation. The mater- 
ials used are fresher, consisting of the uptorn roots of sedges and the 
stems of various water-plants, especially those of the Yellow Water-weed 
(Jussiea californica). This floating platform is shallow, scarcely in- 
dented, and not sufficiently elevated to lift the eggs altogether clear of 
the water. Incubation is by sufferance of several kindly fates: a sun 
warm, but not too hot; water not too cold and not too rough; and, above 
all, absence of those skulking terrors, muskrats and raccoons. 

In all this a dozen points of contrast and difference from P. podt- 
ceps arise; and yet the author is willing to wager a choice set of supposed 
Eared Grebe eggs, that the first grebe’s nest you find in water, say, 
three feet deep, will stump you for identification. 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
FRATERNIZATION 


PIED-BILLS TO LEFT, EAREDS TO RIGHT. 


souvg soy teau uayey, 


4oyin pr ayy dq ydvabozoyd v wos 


Arojsry [BIOvA JUaIOUY AJDA JO 19}dvyo v ADULZUT Ul 
asivaya. Ady} pur ‘sjuaied 1194} oy!pun ozinb aav saqaay po[iq-palq Aqegq 


S10jsoouy Are1Odul9}U0+D 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


No. 424 


Pied-billed Grebe 


A. O. U. No. 6. Podilymbus podiceps (Linneus). 


Synonyms.—WaTER-WiTcH. HELL-DIVER. DABCHICK. DIEDAPPER. DIPPER. 
BLIND RAIL. 


Description.—Adult in nuptial plumage: Chin and throat glossy black; top 
of head and neck black with an admixture of brownish in hair-lines and streaks; the 
forehead with many shortened, webless, glossy, black shafts; sides of head gray, passing 
into grayish-brown on sides and front of neck; lower neck and breast and sides mostly 
blackish, heavily tipped in parted hair-lines with fulvous and ochraceous; underparts 
silky grayish-white mottled with underlying dusky, and heavily shaded on sides and 
behind; above clear brownish-black; secondaries varied and mottled with some white. 
Bill short and stout, bluish-white, crossed at the nostril by a heavy black band; feet 
greenish-black. A prenuptial phase, in which the black of throat is more or less over- 
laid with white (unabraded tips of feathers) is more frequently seen. Adult in winter: 
Without black on head; crown dark brown shading on sides of head to whitish of 
throat; neck, fore-breast, and sides strongly tinged with brownish ochraceous; belly 
dingy white, unmottled; bill without black band. Immature: Like adult in winter, 
but sides of head with more or less distinct stripes of brown. Downy young: Plumage 
chiefly black and dull white in lengthwise stripes, ten of each; belly broadly white; 
head roughly and broadly cross-banded with chestnut and black; superciliaries five- 
striped black-and-white, converging on forehead; bare lores and eyelids reddish; bill 
reddish at base, paler medially, variously touched with black distally, and sharply 
white-tipped; feet blackish. Length 304.8-381 (12.00-15.00); wing 129.5 (5.10); bill 
20.3 (.80); along gape 31.8 (1.25); depth at nostril 10.9 (.43); tarsus 39.4 (1.55). 


Recognition Marks.—Teal size; bill short and stout, its black band distinctive 
during breeding season, its shape sufficiently so at other times; head and neck brownish 
with dull whitish throat in winter plumage. 


Nesting.— Nest: A floating or half-submerged mound of decayed vegetation 
in open space of swamp water. Eggs: 4-8, 10 of record; dull white or pale greenish 
buff, usually more or less discolored by contact with water-soaked nest. Av. size 
43.4 x 30 [1.71 x 1.18] (Bent). Index 68.9. Season: May; one brood. 


General Range.—North and South America. Breeds locally from the southern 
Canadian provinces south to Chile and Argentina. Winters on the Atlantic Coast 
from New Jersey, on the Pacific Coast from Vancouver Island, and from the Gulf 
States, southward. 


Distribution in California.—Fairly common summer resident and breeder 
at suitable localities throughout the State. Winters sparingly in the San Joaquin- 
Sacramento Valley, and on Tomales and San Francisco bays; more commonly in the 
San Diegan district. Well distributed as a migrant, invading even the smallest ponds 
and ditches. 

Authorities.—Heermann (Podylymbus lineatus), Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 
vol. vil., 1854, p. 179 (young of Podilymbus podiceps described as new subspecies) ; 
Willett, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 7, 1912, p. 9 (occurrence in s. Calif.; breeding dates, 


2057 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


etc.); Ray, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 222 (San Francisco County, breeding); Bent, 
U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 107, 1919, p. 39, pls. (life hist.); G. Bancroft, Condor, vol. 
Xxli., 1920, p. 206 (San Joaquin Valley; nesting habits); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. 
Agric., Bull. no. 8, 1922, p. 6 (under-water progression). 


TAKE a double handful of ’dobe soil, moisten it with brown swamp 
water, add a fistful of macerated weed-stems, by way of binder, mould 
into a shape somewhere between a clod and a crow, drench it with eels’ 
liver oil, and set it carefully on the surface of some weedy pond. It will 
disappear instanter, and the swamp will be peopled forever after by a 
race of amphibious Pinkertons. You will never again set foot in those 
oozy shallows, intent upon nothing more harmful than your annual 
inspection of blackbirds’ nests, without an uneasy consciousness of 
surveillance. You are being shadowed from clump to clump among the 
innocently waving cat-tails. ‘““The Hessians are coming.’’ Some mis- 
creant is spreading a false alarm, and be your advance never so stealthy 
to the very market-place of Reedburg, you find only empty streets, or 
catch at best a glimpse of disappearing skirts. 

If you spot the spy, up on reconnaissance, he sits the water motionless 
and furtive, the very image of arrogant humility, Uriah Heep in feathers. 
The Dab deprecates your glance with an irritating unctuousness which 
somehow makes you resolve to deserve forthwith all the nameless charges 
of which you stand accused. Guilty! And proud of it, Caliban! Bing! 

The trouble began when we were boys. We had been entrusted with 
our first gun, a re-bored army carbine, and we were intent on slaughter. 
We saw a duck on a pond and we tremulously pulled trigger. The land- 
scape was suddenly blotted out, and, when we returned to consciousness 
there was no duck in sight, nor shattered remains, nor feathers. What did 
it mean! We knew we had not missed. Nothing could have withstood 
that blinding assault and at such close range. So we returned, bruised 
in spirit, and the neighbor boys told us with great glee that we had shot 
at (mark the preposition) a “‘hell-diver.”’” We are not profane, but we 
draw a fierce satisfaction from the appellation, and we cherish our wrath 
against a creature which is so inconsiderate as to avoid the flash of a gun 
at twenty yards. 

More recently we have been trying to study the Grebe’s nesting 
habits, and have made overtures, sometimes friendly, sometimes frantic; 
but still the wily water-witch cultivates retiracy and will not be limed or 
limned, save as a paludicoline pest whose specialty is alibis. 

One thing is certain, the nest of the Pied-billed Grebe may be found. 
In a retired spot in a depth of water varying from six inches to as many 
feet, a large mound of sodden vegetable matter and mud is erected, and 


2058 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


with a hemispherical finish brought to an elevation of from two to six 
inches above water. If in shallow water, the mound is comparatively 
solid, and mud is largely used. If in deep water, mud may be almost 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
BE 'UMBLE, URIAH, BE 'UMBLE 


eliminated, and the mass, thus rendered light enough to float, gives with 
the waves as it swings upon concealed moorings of aquatic plants. 

Here in a slight depression of the top, seven or eight eggs are deposited 
at the rate of one a day; and incubation requires three weeks or a little 
over. The parents brood the eggs at night and in chilly weather, but on 
bright days the eggs are carefully covered with mud and close-set mosses, 
spirogyra and the like, and the whole smoothed over to the appearance 
of an emerging mud-bank. The wet blanket, so painstakingly provided, 
serves the triple purpose of screening the eggs from hostile observation, 
of protecting them from the too violent rays of the sun, and of equalizing 
the heat so received. Indeed, it is altogether possible that the heat 
generated by the decay of the vegetation itself plays an important part 
in incubation. 

That one does not see the mother is no sign that she is not anxious; 


2059 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


and if you tarry too long, the swamp will become vocal with strange 
gurglings and weird cries of incantation. Most memorable is an odd 
bubbling giggle, keggy keggy keggey keggy kegey keggy keggy, etc., rendered 
with great rapidity. 

If one happens upon a nest at the critical hour of hatching, the 
distraught parent enters upon an entirely different behavior cycle. 
Renouncing all prudence, she rushes up within a dozen feet or less. 
First, sitting bolt upright upon the surface of the water, she flashes the 
white areas of the flank-patches. Then she flounders over the surface of 
the water, beating 1t with her wings and splashing spray in a fashion to 
compel attention. Anon she dives ostentatiously, passing and repassing © 
in plain view beneath the surface. Upon emergence groans or shrieks are 
emitted, and the distraught lure tactics recommence. 

Parental love is almost unfailing, but it is a marvel that the Grebe 
mother knows her own. The chicks are evidently not fashioned after 
the frivolous method suggested at the beginning of this article. Baby 


Taken in Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
BOLTING THE PARTY 


Grebes, at least Pied-bills, are among the most astonishing of mortalities. 
If nature had studiously devised the utmost difference between parent 
and child, she could not have succeeded better. Instead of a dun- 
colored lump, we have a handsome pattern of black and white in length- 
wise stripes—like a skunk, one cannot refrain from saying, especially 


2060 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


now that “‘milady”’ has consented to hug this odious creature to her heart 
in the shape of muff or stole. The pattern is further set off by touches 
of chestnut on the head, and with higher reds on eyelids and bill. These 
little studies in black-and-white are, moreover, eloquent of ancestral 
beauty, now rehearsed alone in the brief hour of childhood. Whatever 
did Uriah do to forfeit such ancient grandeur? 

The babies are as cute as they are striking in appearance, and the 
fortunate captor cannot resist the appeal of play with such dainty toys 
at hand. At first, escape by diving is their only thought, but they are 
too light in weight to stay under long. Some try hiding, and lie motion- 
less behind a water-weed, with only the tip of the bill and nostrils emerg- 
ing. Best of all, is to see them paddling about on the surface of the 
water, which is no hardship, and especially to see them linking up chain- 
fashion in the vain endeavor to use the other fellow as a “‘surf-board.” 
This instinct to climb up on something is explained when the mother bird 
appears on the scene. If you will retire discreetly, she will call her 
chicks by clear, resonant notes, tender and anxious, peek poolk. Scur- 
rying over the water to meet her, the chicks scramble instantly upon the 
mother’s back where they are both secreted and held in place by the 
inner edges of the partially uplifted wings. With her brood so disposed, 
the mother grebe (with all her sins forgiven now) prefers to ride high 
upon the surface of the water. But she will dive with her burden if need 
be, and the babies thus traverse very considerable distances in the 
“only original’’ submersible. 


Taken in Merced Counly Photo by the Author 
A NEW GENERATION 


YET THE DRESS OF THESE ARTLESS BABIES IS ELOQUENT OF BYGONE DAYS, A MILLE-MILLENNIUM OF PHYLOGENETIC 
HISTORY REHEARSED IN A FORTNIGHT 


2061 


The Pied-billed Grebe 


Sometimes, instead of diving as quick as a flash, the bird, if it thinks 
itself unobserved and wishes to escape, will settle down into the water 
and disappear like a perforated tin can, without leaving a ripple behind. 
Once under water, the diver makes marvelous progress, apparently 
without assistance from the wings. And if it is undesirable to appear on 
exhibition again, the bird requires only to thrust the tip of the bill as far 
as the nostrils above the water from time to time. Thinking to test 
their powers both of diving and flight, the author once pursued a company 
of twenty-five Pied-bills about a two-acre opening in the ice of an eastern 
lake. The birds would neither fly nor try to escape beneath the surround- 
ing ice, preferring rather to play hide and seek with the man in the boat. 
Some came to the surface and got a single gulp of air, while others fear- 
lessly presented a broadside view, and others still paddled about with 
only the head sticking out of water. They are said, however, to take 
wing easily and to fly rapidly. On land they are unable to rise, and they 
flounder about, therefore, quite helplessly. 


From Raven to Grebe is a far cry, and we have run the gamut of 
interest in the Living Bird: but who shall say whether is greater, Grebe 
or Raven, in the Father’s sight? or who shall resolve us these mysteries 
which we have here but dimly outlined? Who shall tell us whether 
these be indeed our brethren, to whom we owe some sort of fealty, or 
only clods a little more animated? For ourselves we dare to believe 
that we are a part of deity, the Creative Infinite made flesh and become 
self-conscious—ageless, timeless, imperishable, on-going. But who are 
you, O Birds? toys for our idle hour? toys which we may cast aside, 
broken perhaps, with none to chide us? Or are you—are you, perchance, 
fellow gods? Perhaps—oh, just perhaps—we shall meet again in that 
realm which is beyond appraisal—the Realm of Understanding. 


TOO LATE TO CLASSIFY 


Nesta 


aay 


J 0 
Mat 


Analytical Keys 


*7x9} OY) ULL} paddojor A[JUoNbDoY YSOur Svoiv advurn{d puv sjred jo uoIsod SulMoys ‘uaavy v JO BUIMBIP IUITINO 


auld V HO AHAVUDOdOL 
syooag UD) W &q unDa 


aT 


CZ 
Zz 


Ri 


iad 
09 «<2 
AS P35 as 
> 22D ZS ; 
ee 43 = y) 


Pani 


EO 


PE 


oe) sae Sa ae ES gon 2in ge 
-gd05 e es a 


a7gipyel : 


DIX DT oh — SIN i 
Uueuyny See ears 


poeye!od 


Analytical Keys 


For the ready identification of birds of California. 


Foreword 


The following pages present a rough abstract of the structural characters and relationships of the 
birds of California. Our purpose here being a purely practical one, viz., to establish identity, we have 
sometimes seized upon the most trifling or superficial characters, provided only that these are conspicu- 
ous or decisive. No attempt has been made to give a complete account either of structural characters 
or of systematic divisions; and no mention has been made of several natural but subordinate groupings, 
such as super-orders, sub-orders, and sub-families. Consideration of even generic distinctions has 
been sacrificed in the interests of simplicity. 

The irreducible minimum of systematic apparatus would appear to involve the recognition of 
Orders, Families, and Species. The Keys are, accordingly, based upon these threefold distinctions. 

Of course the accurate use of any key must depend upon a bird or bird-skins at hand. But because 
many of the readers of this work may not have convenient access to labelled specimens, or may not care 
to kill birds for temporary needs, we have used as far as possible field characters, or ‘‘recognition marks,” 
through which even the most superficial glimpse of a bird may lead hopefully to recognition. 

Lastly, the writer disclaims any assumption of authority in the realm of taxonomy. He has only 
interpreted, somewhat hastily, the labors of others, and is frankly beholden to such outstanding author- 
ities as Ridgway and Coues, as well as to Dr. Lynds Jones, who kindly prepared the keys for the author’s 
earlier works, ‘The Birds of Ohio” and “The Birds of Washington.”’ 


How to use the Keys 


With a bird in hand which we wish to identify, say, a Sora Rail (Porzana carolina), we inquire, 
first, what order it belongs to. Turning to page 2069, ‘‘Key to the Californian Orders,” we read: “I. Feet 
with webs or lobes.’’ Our bird has simple, or naked, toes, so we pass to “II. Feet with neither webs 
nor lobes’’—which fits our case. Here “A. Legs and neck lengthened” does not apply; but “B. Legs 
and neck not decidedly lengthened” does apply. Under B. “1. Feet relatively larger; toes long and 
slender” fits exactly. Our bird belongs to Order No. 14, the Ralliformes. We turn then to the “Key 
to the Families,” beginning on page 2070. Under “Order 14, Ralliformes, Rails, Crakes,” etc., page 2073, 
we read a brief description of the birds of this group and learn that the Order Ralliformes has only one 
family, the Rallide. We pass then to the ‘‘Key to the Species,’ beginning on page 2075. Here, also 
under Order 14, Ralliformes (p. 2089), we find an analysis of the Californian species of the family Rallide. 
Our bird falls under ‘‘I. Toes simple; body compressed; no frontal shield’’; but not under “A. Length 
about 15 inches.’’ We pass to ‘‘B. Length above 8 inches.’’ Our bird, measured along the back from 
the tip of the bill to the end of the tail measures 8.50 inches; while its bill, measured (preferably by 
calipers, or ‘“‘dividers’’) from the tip to the feathers at the base of the upper mandible (chord of culmen) 
is only .75 inches—‘‘2. Bill decidedly less than one inch long.’’ Our bird is No. 306, Sora Rail. 

Guided by the figures on the shelf-back of the volumes, we turn to Volume III, or else refer to the 
Index, and read on page 1540 a detailed description of the Sora Rail, Porzana carolina, and receive 
abundant confirmation of our analysis. Here, for the sake of practice, perhaps, we will wish to check 
up, point by point, upon the color characters, and to measure, preferably by calipers, the distance from 
the bend of the wing to the tip of the primaries; also the tarsus from the heel joint (the sharp point of 
the calipers will find a little hollow between the bones of tibia and tarsus) and the angle formed by the 
outer (4th) toe. The length of the tail may likewise be determined by setting the calipers snugly into 
the base, or point of insertion, of the central rectrices. These four characters of bill-length, tarsus- 
length, wing- and tail-length, are notably constant within the species, but due allowance must be made 
for molting and wear of feathers, as well as for individual variation. 


2067 


Roster of Orders of Living Birds 


Orders represented in California are indicated by Arabic numerals 
and bold-face type. 


I. 
Il. 
II. 
IV. 
Wo 


VI. 
VII. 
VIII. 


IX. 
XxX. 
XI. 


XII. 
XIII. 
XIV. 
XV. 
XVI. 
XVII. 
XVIII. 
XIX. 
XX. 
XXI. 
XXII. 
XXIII. 
XXIV. 
XXV. 
XXVI. 


XXVII. 
XXVIII. 
XXIX. 
XXX. 


XXXI. 
XXXII. 
XXXIII. 
XXXIV. 
XXXV. 


XXXVI. 
XXXVII. 
XXXVIITI. 
XXXIX. 
XL. 


2068 


RHEIFORMES 
STRUTHIONES 


CASUARIITFORMES 


APTERYGES 


SPHENISCIFORMES 


22 Podicipedes. 
21 Gavize 
20 Procellariiformes 


19 Steganopodes. 
18 Herodiones. 


PHG@NICOPTERIFORMES 


17 Anseres. 


PALAMEDEIFORMES 


16 Falconiformes. 


CRYPTURIFORMES 
OPISTHOCOMIFORMES 


MESGENATES 
MEGAPODES 

15 Galliformes. 

14 Ralliformes. 

13 Grues. 
OTIDES 

12 Alciformes. 

11 Lariformes. 

10 Charadriiformes. 
TURNICES 


PTEROCLIDES. 
9 Columbiformes. 
8 Coccyges. 


PSITTACIFORMES. 


7 Striges. 


6 Caprimulgiformes. 


5 Coraciiformes. 
COLIIFORMES. 
TROGONES. 


4 Piciformes. 

3 Cypseliformes. 

2 Trochiliformes. 
MENURIFORMES. 

1 Passeriformes. 


Rheas. 

Ostriches. 
Cassowaries, Emus. 
Kiwis. 

Penguins. 


Grebes. 
Loons. 
Petrels. 


Shags, Pelicans, etc. 
Herons. 
Flamingoes. 


Ducks, Geese and Swans. 


Screamers. 
Hawks, Eagles, etc. 
Tinamous. 
Hoatzins. 
Kagus. 
Megapodes. 
Fowls. 

Rails. 

Cranes. 
Bustards. 
Auks. 

Gulls. 
Shore-birds. 
Button Quails. 


Sand-grouse. 
Pigeons. 
Cuckoos. 
Parrots. 


Owls. 
Nighthawks. 
Roller-like birds. 
Colies. 

Trogons. 


Woodpecker-like birds. 
Swifts. 

Hummers. 

Lyre-birds. 
Sparrow-like birds. 


DIsTRIBUTION. 


Brazil to Patagonia. 

Arabia and Africa. 

Australia and the southern East Indies 

New Zealand. 

Antarctic and South Temperate oceans 
and shores north to southern Africa 
and the Galapagos Islands. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Holarctic (Northern Hemisphere). 

Cosmopolitan pelagic, but chiefly 

South Temperate oceans. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Southern Europe, central and western 
Asia, Africa, South America, and 
southern North America. 

Cosmopolitan. 

South America. 

Cosmopolitan. 

South and Central America. 

Tropical South America. 

Madagascar. 

The Indo-Australian region. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

The Old World, including Australia. 

Holarctic pelagic south to Mexico. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

The Indo-Australian region, southern 
Asia, Africa, and extreme southern 
Europe. 

Eurasia, chiefly centrally, and Africa. 

Cosmopolitan, including Oceanica. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Tropico-cosmopolitan and South Tem- 
perate (also barely North Tem- 
perate), notably in Indo-Australian 
region. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Africa. 

Central and South America, Africa, 
southern Asia and the East Indies 
broadly. 

Cosmopolitan. 

Cosmopolitan. 

New World, chiefly tropical. 

Australia. 

Cosmopolitan. 


Key to the Californian Orders 


I, Feet with webs or lobes. 
A. Feet with webs. 
1. Webs extending to the base of the toe-nails. 
a. Legs set back near tail; tail shortened. 


(1). Toes, 4. 21. GAVIZ. 
(2). Toes, 3 12. ALCIFORMES. 
b. Legs normally placed; tail normal. 
(1). Totipalmate, all 4 toes connected by web. 19. STEGANOPODES. 
(2). Hind toes when present not connected to others by web. 
(a). Nostrils opening through tubes. 20. PROCELLARIIFORMES. 
(b). Nostrils not opening through tubes. 
(al). Bill with tooth-like projections along its sides. 17. ANSERES. 
(b!). Bill without tooth-like projections 11. LARIFORMES. 
B. Feet with lobes on sides of toes. 
1. Legs set far back; tail rudimentary 22. PODICIPEDES. 
2. Legs normally placed; tail well developed. 
a. Forehead with a bare shield. 14. RALLIFORMES (Part). 
b. Forehead normal. 10. CHARADRIIFORMES (Part). 


II. Feet with neither webs nor lobes. 
A. Legs and neck lengthened. 


1. Lores bare. 18. HERODIONES. 
2. Lores not bare. 
a. Toes, 4. 13. GRUES. 
bs) loess.35 10. CHARADRIIFORMES (Part). 
B. Legs and neck not decidedly lengthened. 
1. Feet relatively large; toes long and slender. 14. RALLIFORMES (Part). 
2. Feet and toes moderate. 
a. Lower part of tibia bare. 10. CHARADRIIFORMES (Part). 
b. Lower part of tibia feathered. 
(1). Hind toe short, elevated above front ones. 15. GALLIFORMES. 
(2). Hind toe, when present, on same level as front ones. 
(a). Nostrils opening beneath a soft fleshy membrane. 9. COLUMBIFORMES. 


(b). Bill without soft fleshy membrane. 
(al). Bill with basal cere. 
(a2). Eyes directed forward, surrounded by radial disc of 
specially modified feathers. 7. STRIGES. 
(b?2). Eyes normally placed on face. 16. FALCONIFORMES. 
(b1). Bill without basal cere. 
(a2). 2 toes in front and 2 behind, or 2 in front and 1 


behind. 
(a3). The outer toe (4th) merely reversible. 4. PICIFORMES. 
(b3). Outer toe permanently reversed. 8. COCCYGES. 


(b2). 3 toes in front, 1 behind. 
(a8). Middle and outer (4th) toes joined for half their 
length. 5. CORACIIFORMES. 
(b8) Middle and outer toes not joined or else on middle 
of basal phalanx only. 
(a4). Bill and feet weak. 
(a®). Hind toe versatile, coloration simple, plu- 


mage compact. 3. CYPSELIFORMES. 
(b®). Hind toe fixed; pattern of coloration intri- 
cate, plumage soft. 6. CAPRIMULGIFORMES. 
(b4). Bill elongated and very slender. 2. TROCHILIFORMES. 
(c4). Characters various but not combined as above. 1. PASSERIFORMES. 


2069 


Key, to the Maniilies 


Orper 1. PASSERIFORMES. Sparrow-like Birds. 


Birds having feet adapted to perching, with first toe (hallux, or thumb) well developed, irreversible, and definitely 
opposed to the remaining three, which are likewise irreversible; primaries 9 or 10, secondaries more than 6; rectrices 
12 (or, rarely, 10); bill various as to shape but always horny throughout, never provided with cere or deciduous parts 
or other seasonal modifications. Pygmy to raven size. Eggs 1-12, usually 3-5, exhibiting the widest range of color 
and markings. 

Passerine birds represent the highest development of the avian type and comprise nearly one-half of the known 
species of birds. Because of this high degree of differentiation within narrow structural limits, practical expediency 
has led us to exalt to “family” rank groups which are actually no better than genera. Furthermore, the most obvious 
distinctions of “character” which assuredly do separate groups, when reduced to somatic, or structural, terms must 
seem highly artificial. To speak, then, “above the book,” birds of this group have become so highly personalized 
that a merely physical description is inadequate. 

Discussion of higher groups within the Passeriformes, whether suborders or superfamilies, is beside our purpose; 
but it is well for Californians to remember that the Flycatchers, Order Tyrannida, are set off from the remaining 
Passerine families of California, by reason of differently arranged syringeal muscles, which render their voices less 
varied or tuneful. 


1. Back of tarsus rounded like the front. 
A. Bill hooked at tip. Fam. 22. TYRANNIDAE, FLYCATCHERS. 
B. Bill not hooked. Fam. 21. Avaupip#, Larxs. 

II. Buck of tarsus a sharpened ridge. 
A. With 9 primaries. 


1. Tertiaries conspicuously elongated. Fam. 20. Moracituip#, Wagtails, Pipits. 
2. Tertiaries not conspicuously elongated. 
a. Bill very short; wings long and pointed. Fam. 6. Hirrunpinip#®, Swallows. 


b. Bill moderate; wings moderate. 

(1). With angle of commissure (formed by opened mandibles) bent near base. 

(a). Angle abruptly deflected downward; bill cone- 
shaped. Fam. 3. FRINGILLID#, Sparrows. 

(b). Angle less sharply bent; bill usually more slender. Fam. 2. IcrErtp#, Troupials, etc. 

(2). Angle of commissure not bent. 
(a). Bill notched near tip. Fam. 4. Tanacrip#, Tanagers. 
(b). Bill simple. Fam. 5. Mwytotitripm, Wood Warblers. 

RB. With ro primaries. 
1. Bill hooked at tip. 


a. Head crested, uncination moderate. Fam. 7. AMPELID®, Waxwings. 
b. Head not crested, uncination more sharply defined. 
(1). Small; under 6.50 inches long. Fam. 9. VIREONIDa, Vireos. 
(2). Large; over 8.50 inches long. Fam. 10. Lanupa, Shrikes. 


2. Bill not hooked. 
a. Tarsus divided into scales (acrotarsium scutellate). 
(1). Tail feathers stiffened, pointed at tip. Fam. 13. CERTHUD#, Creepers. 
(2). Tail feathers normal. 
(a). Nostrils entirely covered by forward-projecting frontal feathers. 


(al). Larger; feathers covering nostrils bristly Fam. 1. Corvin, Crows, Jays. 
(b!). Smaller; feathers over nostrils not bristly. Fam. 11. Parip#, Titmice. 
(b). Nostrils partly covered by feathers. Fam. 12. Sirt1p#, Nuthatches. 


(c). Nostrils bare. 
(al). Basal phalanges of anterior toes fully adherent. Fam. 14. TRoGLopyTIpz&, Wrens. 
(b!). Basal phalanges nearly or quite free. Fam. 15. Mimtpm, Mockingbirds, Thrashers. 
b. Anterior tarsal covering nearly or completely united 
(acrotarsium booted). 
(1). With rictal bristles (at corner of mouth). 


(a). Bill short, flattened and deeply cleft. Fam. 8. Pri,oconatip#, Silky Flycatchers. 
(b). Bill normal. 
(a1). Wings long and pointed, over 3.00 in length: Fam. 17. Turpip#, Thrushes. 
(b!). Wings moderate with rounded tp, not over 2.50 
in length. Fam. 18. Sytvup#, Old World Warblers. 
(cl). Wings relatively short, very much rounded. Fam. 19. CHaM#Ip#&, Wren-Tits. 
(2). Without rictal bristles. Fam. 16. Cinciip#, Dippers. 


Orper 2. TROCHILIFORMES. Hummingbirds. 


Small, non-passerine birds having slender, elongated beaks, not deeply cleft beyond base; largely metallic- 
lustered, often iridescent plumage; breast- bone enormously dev eloped (for attachment of muscles to vibrate very 
moderate-sized wings at highest rate of speed); primaries 10; secondaries 6; rectrices 10; feet very small and weak 
although passerine in function, i. e., the thumb regularly opposed. Pygmy to sparrow (rarely) size. The various 
parts of the bird are susceptible of superficial modification, especially for ornamental purposes, but in structure the 
group is very uniform; in fact, the “order” is confessedly a family, exalted by reason of its distinctness and abundance. 
Eggs two, oval, white; young helpless at birth. American, especially tropically; over 500 species known, with an 
ever increasing ‘number of “subs.” One family, the Trochilide—7 species Californian. 


ORDER 3. CYPSELIFORMES. Swifts. 


Non-passerine birds having mouths deeply cleft, with rictal bristles; bills small, triangular; nostrils exposed; 
wings long, sharply pointed, always reaching beyond tail; primaries 10; secondaries 7-11; rectrices 10; feet relatively 
small and weak, the four toes all inclining forward, or else the 2nd toe and hallux loosely ‘reversible. Py gmy to little 
hawk size; loosely or highly gregarious. Eggs 1- 6; white, ovate, or elongate ovate; young naked. A fairly homo- 
geneous, cosmopolitan group of two families (one Californian) and about a hundred species. 


Orpver 4. PICIFORMES. Woodpecker-like birds, Jacamars, Barbets, Toucans, etc. 


A diverse order of remotely “roller-like” birds, with characters too technical for consideration here. We are 
interested only in the Picidae (q. v.). 


Orpver 5. CORACIIFORMES. Roller-like birds, Kingfishers, etc. 


A diverse group of chiefly arboreal birds, having deep-seated structural characters insusceptible of simple defini- 
tion. We are interested only in the Alcedinide, Kingfishers, (q. v.). 


Orver 6. CAPRIMULGIFORMES. Goatsuckers, Nighthawks, Poorwills, etc. 


[Broadly defined, this order should probably include the suborder Podargi, and possibly Steatornithes. The 
discussion of these groups, however, would lead us too far afield, and we here characterize the central group, Capri- 
mulgi, only]. Roller-like birds having soft, lax plumage of protective or self-toned shades; well developed wings 
with Io primaries and more than 7 secondaries; 10 rectrices; bill deeply cleft, to or beyond the eye, the horny portion 
minute, depressed, of triangular outline; the gape (usually) bounded by highly developed bristles; feet weak, the 
tarsus shortened, partially feathered; the hind toe slightly elevated and turned to the side; the anterior toes connected 
basally by webs; the 4th toe usually having only 4 joints, the middle toe elongated and usually pectinated. Towhee 
to crow size. Chiefly migratory in temperate zones. Eggs 2; white or marked; laid on ground without nest. 


Orver 7. STRIGES. Owls. 


Chiefly nocturnal birds of prey, having chiefly upright carriage and near-cylindrical form and many highly 
developed modifications adapted to their mode of life. These include softened, nearly noiseless plumage, highly 
neutralized or self-toned color-pattern, chiefly browns; a facial disc causing convergence of light upon the eye; a 
short highly convex and hooked beak, sheathed at base by a cere; and feet and tarsi fully feathered; the fourth toe 
reversible or movable through an angle of nearly 180 degrees. Warbler to brant size. A singularly homogeneous 
and cosmopolitan group, necessarily solitary in habit. Eggs 2-8; rounded; white; young altricial, covered at first 
with heavy whitish down. Two families, both Californian, of perhaps 300 species. 


I. Facial disc rounded triangular; inner toe equal to middle. Fam. 1. TyTonip=. 
II. Facial disc circular; inner toe shorter than middle toe. Fam. 2. StRIGIDR. 


OrperR 8. COCCYGES. Cuckoos. 


Terrestrial or arboreal birds, chiefly of normal or slender proportions (or else highly specialized in mimetic pat- 
tern), and having bills neither woodpecker-like nor parrot-like, and so distinguished by zygodactylous feet, i. e., two 
toes (2nd and 3rd) in front, and two (1st and 4th) behind. ‘The reversion of the 4th toe is, moreover, permanent 
and not changeable, as in owls and woodpeckers. Sparrow to crow size; chiefly solitary, but occasionally communal. 
Nidification normal, parasitic or communal. In the first-named case eggs white or nearly so; pattern of parasitic 
eggs highly varied, chiefly to agree with those of host species. Young altricial, but also relatively precocious. Cos- 
mopolitan. One family. 


OrveR 9. COLUMBIFORMES. Doves and Pigeons. 


Tree- or ground-haunting birds of normal proportions, having well developed, chiefly lengthened and flattened 
wings (in the living forms, which alone are considered here), with 11 primaries; feet with 4 toes; the hallux on the 
same level as the others, hence adapted for perching; tarsus shortened, usually shorter than the toes; bill (usually 
relatively small and slender, often weak and partially constricted mesially) horny, convex and somewhat enlarged 
at tip; at the base a tumid membrane in which the (usually slit-like) nostrils appear. Sparrow to gull size (Gourine); 
mildly to highly gregarious; migratory at extremes of range. [Eggs 1 or 2; white or nearly so; young altricial. Cos- 
mopolitan, especially abundant in the Australian region. Five or six families, of which one Californian. 


2071 


Orver 10. CHARADRIIFORMES.  Plover-like birds. 


“Shore-birds,” frequenters of shores, mud-flats, and, less commonly, uplands; having deep-seated, structural 
characters which, apparently, ally them with the Lariformes, Alciformes, and, possibly, the Columbiformes. They 
possess few absolute superficial characters in common, but in general have rounded, compact, or depressed (but never 
compressed) bodies; often lengthened necks; lengthened, sharply pointed wings, with length of primaries rapidly 
decreasing from outermost, the secondaries usually increasing in length in reverse order; beaks short or long, but 
relatively slender, sometimes highly modified; sometimes leathery throughout or leathery at base with harder tip; 
legs usually lengthened, sometimes extremely so; the lower portion of tibia always bare; tarsus variously reticulate or 
scutellate; the hind toe, if present, short and elevated, the anterior toes usually cleft to base, or webbed basally— 
exceptionally, webbed (4vocetta) or lobed (Phalaropodidae); plumage sometimes patchy or unicolored, but more 
usually obliteratively streaked. Warbler to gull size; resident or highly migratory according to latitude. Eggs 
normally 4 or less, neutral as to ground, variously spotted, hieroglyphed or scrolled with browns or black; young 
highly precocial, feathered at birth, and nidifuguous. A cosmopolitan order of broadest distribution, comprising 
about a dozen families, and less than 400 species; 7 families and 37 species Californian. 


I. Sides of toes with conspicuous lateral membrane or lobes.. Fam, 1. PHALAROPODID®. 
II. Sides of toes without membrane or lobes. 
A. Tarsus over 3.50 inches. Fam. 2. RECURVIROSTRIDE. 


B. Tarsus under 3.50 inches. 
1. Scales in front of tarsus large, squarish, regularly placed in one 


row. 
a. Bill slender, tip blunted. Fam. 3. SCOLOPACID. 
b. Billstout, cuneate, straightened at tip. Fam, 6. ARENARIUD. 
c. Bill short, plover-like, but grooved; tail emarginate. Fam. 5. APHRIZIDA. 
2. Scales in front of tarsus small, numerous, irregular, or not 
square. 
a. Bill shorter than tarsus. Fam. 4. CHARADRUDA. 
b. Bill longer than tarsus. Fam. 7. Ha#matopopip#. 


Orver 11. LARIFORMES. Gulls, Terns, etc. 


Small to large “Charadriimorpht,” haunting shores and interior waters, and adapted to aquatic life by reason of 
close-set, impervious plumage and webbed feet. Birds of this group have rather short necks, strong wings, notably 
lengthened; tails moderate or elongated; short legs placed well forward, throwing body into horizontal position when 
at rest; anterior toes fully webbed; hind toe very small, elevated, or sometimes wanting; tibiz distally naked; tarsus 
scutellate in front; bill various but usually simple, stout and sharp, sometimes uncinate and cered; nostrils simple, 
lateral, and freely open. Coloration usually simple, chiefly gray or dusky and white. Size sparrow to “large gull.” 
Partially migratory or roving. Eggs, 2 or 3, heavily colored; young feathered, semi-precocial. A cosmopolitan 
group of four families, all but one Californian. 


I. Bill with cere. Fam. 1. STERCORARIIDA. 
II. Bill simple. 
A. Bill stout, abruptly tapering at tip; tail chiefly square. Fam, 2. Larip®. 
B. Bill more slenderly proportioned and gradually tapering; tail 
chiefly forked. Fam. 3. STERNIDE. 


Orper 12. ALCIFORMES. Auk-like Birds. 


Marine birds of compact or short spindle-shaped outline, having close-set plumage adapted to continuous sub- 
mersion, chiefly black or black-and-white in color; wings relatively small but fully functional (save in extinct Great 
Auk, Pinguinus impennis); legs set far back, necessitating upright position in standing; the tibio-tarsal joint naked, 
the feet well developed; hind toe absent, anterior toes fully webbed; bill simple and sharp-pointed, or highly varied, 
often with deciduous plates; nostrils various, feathered or not. Size range (of living species) sparrow to crow. Par- 
tially or highly gregarious; partially sedentary or retreating to open ocean at behests of season. Eggs 1 or 2; white 
or highly pigmented. Young clad with abundant down, partially nidicolous. Six families (five Californian), 29 
species, of which 28 American and 10 Californian. Classification here adopted based (for once) on oological char- 
acters (infallibly sustained by structural differences, however minute). 

I. Eggs single, white or nearly so. 
A. Eggs pure white, or with faintest green tinge only. Small 
birds of chunky form; nostril remote from feathers. Fam. 1. AETHIUDE. 
B. Eggs sordid white or with reminiscent markings of brown and 
violet gray. Crow size or nearly so. Bill stout with deciduous 


plates. Tail of 16-18 feathers. Fam. 5. FRATERCULID2. 
II. Eggs colored or highly pigmented. 
A. Eggs 2, of normal shape, lightly spotted. Fam. 2. CEPPHIDE. 


B. Eggs 2; elliptical, deeply or variously stained and fine-spotted. Fam. 3. BRACHYRAMPHID. 
C. Egg single; top-shaped, highly colored and heavily or extra- 
ordinarily pigmented. Fam. 4. Aucipz. 


2072 


OrpER 13. GRUES. Cranes. 


Wading birds of lengthened, often stately, proportions; the wings ample, often modified by elongation of inner 
secondaries; tail short, of 12 feathers; head often partially denuded; bill stout, lengthened, with prominent nostrils; 
at least distal portion of tibia bare; feet stout, the anterior toes webbed at base; the hind toe elevated and much 
shortened. No description of external characters can be devised which will accurately cover the diverse families 
which most authors wish to include with the Gruzde proper; but the eggs of Courlans (Family 4ramidz) so closely 
resemble the Gruids that there can be no possible doubt of their close phylogenetic relationship. Only one family, 
the Gruide, Californian. 


Orper 14. RALLIFORMES. Rails, Crakes, Coots, Gallinules. 


Marsh-haunting waders or swimmers, having chiefly compressed bodies (depressed in case of Coots); short, 
rounded, highly concave wings; tail short, of Io or 14 soft feathers; necks of moderate length; heads fully feathered; 
bills narrow, but often leather-like rather than horny; feet and legs greatly strengthened, the distal portion of tibiz 
bare, the toes lengthened. Sparrow to crow size. Mildly to highly gregarious; sedentary or migratory. Eggs 
3 or 4 to a dozen or more, invariably spotted, often finely. Young highly precocial, covered with down, often black. 
Practically cosmopolitan. A decadent group, showing weakening of characters, especially of wings. One family, 
the Rallide. 


OrpeR 15. GALLIFORMES. Fowls, Turkeys, Grouse, Pheasants, Partridges, etc. 


Land birds, chiefly terrestrial, having stout, compact bodies, moderate or short necks, and relatively small 
heads, with reduced cranial capacity; short, rounded, concave wings; bill short and stout with convex culmen, and 
tomia of upper mandible overlapping lower; nostrils often concealed, scaled, or feathered; legs moderate or short, 
often feathered to the toes, sometimes to the nails; toes four, the three front ones connected by webs at base, the 
hind-toe greatly reduced (in many forms non-functional), elevated (save in Cracide). Plumage often assimilates 
closely to surroundings, but in some families becomes highly diversified and gorgeous. Size sparrow to eagle. Eggs 
numerous, plain or pigmented; young highly precocial. Sedentary or irregularly migratory. Cosmopolitan. There 
are perhaps six families, of which two native Californian and one (Phasianide) introduced. 

I. Tarsi and toes and nasal fosse naked. 
A. First (outer) primary much shorter than roth, or if longer, then 


tail longer than wing. Fam. 1. PHASIANIDE. 
B._ First primary as long as roth; tail always shorter than wing. Fam. 2. PERDICID2. 
II. Tarsi, toes and nasal fosse feathered. Fam. 3. TETRAONIDE. 


OrpeR 16. FALCONIFORMES. Falcons, Hawks, Eagles, Vultures. 


Diurnal, raptorial birds, having strong 10-primaried wings, hooked beaks with cutting edges, often toothed, 
festooned, or notched, and a broad, wax-like growth, or plate, the cere, protecting the base of the upper mandible; 
feet usually strong with sharp claws, adapted for seizing (exception Cathartide); toes free, or connected near base by 
rudimentary membrane; tail normally of 12 rectrices. Sexes subsimilar, or sometimes superficially unlike, the fe- 
male, except in Cathartide, usually the larger. Coloration of plumage variable, often shifting with age and subject 
to erythrism, etc., but usually without conspicuous seasonal changes. Size range, warbler to giant. Young altri- 
cial and highly dependent. Eggs usually 2-4, exceptionally 1-8, plain-colored, bluish, or variously pigmented 
with browns, often highly ornate. Sedentary or irregularly migratory. A cosmopolitan group, well distributed. 
A recent monographer, H. Kirke Swann, recognizes 329 species, with 352 additional races. 22 species with four 
additional races, Californian. 


I. Normal characters of the group, suborder Falcones. 
A. Bill short, curved from base, toothed; tibia longer than tarsus; 


feet strong; wings long and pointed. Fam. 1. FAtconipz. 
B. Outer toe reversible. Fam. 2. PANDIONIDE. 
C. Bill somewhat weakened, straight at base, feet small and weak, 

wings elongated. 2 Fam. 3. Mitvipz. 
D. Essential characters moderated; outer toe connected with 

middle toe by membrane basally. Fam. 4. BuTEONID. 

Ii. Head and neck bare, the nostrils completely perforate; bill and 
feet weakened, unsuited to rending. Fam. 5. CATHARTIDA. 


OrpEeR 17. ANSERES. Ducks, Geese, Swans. 


Water birds of shapely, plump contour, or flattened below, having close-set plumage, necks of moderate or 
great length; relatively small, lamellate bills; nostrils usually oval, fully exposed; short legs (only tarsi, or heels, 
protruding from body envelope); three toes connected by full webs (rarely semipalmate), the hind toe small, simple, 
free; wings moderate, sharp-pointed; flight vigorous and rapid. Young precocial. Eggs 4-12, exceptionally up to 
20, plain-colored, somewhat oily as to surface and more or less impervious to water. Size range, killdeer to giant. 
Sedentary or highly migratory, according to climate. Well distributed over all coastal and interior waters. A 
homogeneous group of one family of about 200 species, of which 40 Californian. 


Orver 18. HERODIONES. Herons, Storks, Ibises, Bitterns, etc. 


Wading birds, having chiefly lengthened necks and legs; the lower (distal) portion of tibiz bare; feet not webbed 
or only slightly so; the hind toe usually well developed, its insertion on a level with the remaining toes, and the 
entire foot adapted to perching; bill never weak, usually stout and sharply pointed or variously enlarged and mod- 
ified; head usually more or less bare; wings well developed, not specially modified; tail short, with 12 rectrices or 
less; plumage loose, often filamentous or variously modified, and often provided with “powder down” patches in 
pairs. Young with scanty down, altricial. Eggs 3-7, ovate or elongate ovate; coloration of primitive type (i. e., 
unmarked or else stained with reddish brown). Size range, killdeer to giant. Resident or migratory, chiefly fre- 
quenting swamps and the margins of ponds. Seven families; four Californian. 


{Analysis good for Californian families only.] 


I. Bill long, straight, and sharply pointed. Fam. 1. ARDEIDA. 
II. Bill stout, abruptly decurved at tip. Fam. 2. Ciconips. 
III. Bill long, slender, cylindrical, decurved. - Fam. 3. lsiipe. 

IV. Bill enlarged, flattened, spoon-shaped. Fam. 4. PLATALEID®. 


OrpvEer 19. STEGANOPODES. Cormorants, Boobies, Pelicans, Tropic-birds, Man-o’-war- 
birds, etc. 


Water birds, chiefly pelagic; fish-eating; totipalmate, i. e., all four toes connected by continuous web, assuring 
proficiency in swimming or diving; nostrils minute or wanting; mouth deeply cleft; bill normally hooked (not in An- 
hinga, Phaethon, or Sula); a gular pouch at least rudimentary and sometimes enormously developed; tail normal 
or greatly lengthened; wing development ranging from moderate to maximum, as in Fregata. Size range, crow to 
giant. Nests chiefly in colonies; young usually naked, nidicolous. Eggs 1-5; white or bluish green, often overlaid 
with rough calcareous layer, sometimes stained with brownish red. Chiefly a group of stolid birds of low development 
or intelligence, but contains some highly specialized forms. Five families, Californian. 


J. Bill sharp-tipped, not hooked. 


A. Central pair of tail-feathers greatly lengthened. Fam. 1. PuaETuontip#, Tropic-birds. 
B. Neck lengthened; diameter of head scarcely larger than that 
of neck. Fam. 2. ANHINGID#, Darters. 
II. Bill hooked at tip. 
A. Bill moderate; wings and tail normal. Fam. 3. PHALAcROcORACID#, Shags. 
B. Bill and gular pouch greatly developed. Fam. 4. PELECANIDs, Pelicans. 
C. Wings and tail greatly developed. Fam. 5. Frecatip#, Man-o’-war-birds. 


OrpEerR 20. PROCELLARIIFORMES. Petrels, Fulmars, Shearwaters, Albatrosses, etc. 


Oceanic wanderers, hoverers, dabblers, or, rarely, (Pelecanoidide) divers; having tubular nostrils (whether united 
or separated); sober plumage, chiefly gray, or black-and-white, or dingy brown; wings highly developed, pointed, 
with ro stiff primaries, and often with notable increase in number of secondaries; tail normal, of 12-18, usually 14, 
feathers; lower end of tibia usually bare; tarsus often lengthened; feet short, fully webbed; hind toe elevated, rudi- 
mentary or wanting, bill moderate to stout, hooked, its horny covering consisting of several (up to 9) separate plates. 
Young with heavy down, nidicolous. Egg, single, pure white or lightly marked with reddish brown, often placed 
at end of burrow. Size range, warbler to giant. Migratory or wandering, repairing to land only to breed. Three 
families, of which two Californian. 

I. Nostrils separated, lateral; hind toe rudimentary. Fam. 1. Diomeptp#, Albatrosses. 
II. Nostrils united, on culmen; hind toe evident, although small. Fam. 2. ProceLttarup®, Petrels, Shear- 
waters, etc. 


OrverR 21. GAVL#. Loons, Divers. 


Diving birds with flattened bodies; close-set, impervious plumage; moderately lengthened necks; acute, length- 
ened bills, with linear, exposed nostrils near base; legs set well back, deeply concealed; the tarsus compressed; toes 4, 
the 2nd to 4th fully webbed, the hind toe on a level with the others and slightly connected with znd by web; wings 
strong, acute, with 10 developed primaries; tail shortened but fully formed, of 18-20 stiff feathers. Some seasonal 
color changes of plumage, but no special ruffs or tufts. Young downy, nidifugous. Eggs 2, elongated; deep olive- 
brown or greenish drab, marked with blackish. Size range, gull to goose. Migratory, wintering off-shore or on larger 
interior waters, breeding northerly near lake or pond. One family, the Gaotidae. 


OrvER 22. PODICIPEDES. Grebes. 


Diving birds, with rudimentary tails (a mere tuft of down); wings shortened, rounded, deeply hollowed, with 11 
developed primaries; legs set well back (“‘rump-footed”’); feet and tarsi highly modified, the latter sharply com- 
pressed; the toes flattened, webbed at base and provided with large collapsible lobes distally, the hind toe elevated, 
lobed, and free; neck usually lengthened; plumage very compact, satiny, and highly impervious to water; head often 
provided with tufts or ruff in nuptial season; bill lengthened, acute, nostrils placed near tip. Young downy, nidif- 
ugous. Eggs 3-8, greenish white or yellowish. Size range, robin to brant. Migratory; found in off-shore waters 
during migrations and in winter, but breed in fresh water lakes and ponds. One family, with characters that of the 
order, the Podicipedide. 


2074 


Key to the Species 


Orper 1. PASSERIFORMES. 
Family 1. Corvin. Crows, Magpies, Jays. 


Chiefly large-sized Passeres having 10 primaries, the first (outermost) much shorter than second; bill stout, 
about as long as head, the nostrils covered (except in Cyanocephalus) by a tuft of bristly feathers directed forward; 
rictal bristles moderate; tarsus scutellate (with overlapping plates) in front separated from remaining portions by 
groove on one or each side. Non-migratory. Eggs 3-7, chiefly niagara green, spotted. Nearly cosmopolitan; 
upwards of 100 species (with subspecies 300), 11 Californian. 


I. Plumage entirely black. 
A. Larger, length about two feet. 1. Raven. 
B. Smaller, length about 19 inches. 2. Western Crow. 
II. Plumage chiefly gray, set off by black and white. 3. Clark’s Nutcracker. 
III. Plumage black and white. 
A. Bill black. 5 
B. Bill yellow. 6 
IV. Extensively blue. 


. American Magpie. 
. Yellow-billed Magpie. 


A. With crest. 10. Steller’s Jay. 
B. Without crest. 
1. Chiefly blue throughout. 4. Pinyon Jay. 
2. Back gray; underparts chiefly white or whitish. 
a. Crissum white. 7. California Jay. 
b. Crissum tinged with blue. 
(1). Larger; insular. 8. Santa Cruz Jay. 
(2). Smaller; found on mainland. 9. Woodhouse Jay. 
V. Plumage gray, darkening on head. 11. Oregon Jay. 


Family 2. Icrerip#. Troupials, Orioles, Blackbirds, ‘‘American Starlings.’’ 


Medium sized to large Passeres; having 9 primaries, the outermost usually the longest; bills “cultrirostral,”’ 
moderate, slender-conical, acute, rarely longer than head; angle of commissure bent or angled; nostrils not covered 
with feathers; without obvious rictal bristles; tarsus scutellate. Plumage often highly colored, but blacks run strong 
in family. Eggs 4 or 5, pale niagara green to white, often highly scrawled or variously pigmented. An American 
family, chiefly tropical, of perhaps 150 species, 11 Californian. 


Key to ADULT MALES. 
I. Plumage chiefly black; no yellow. 
A. Shining black throughout. 
1. Greenish black throughout (in non-breeding plumage more or 


less tipped with rusty). 13. Rusty Blackbird. 
2. Greenish black, but head with contrasting violet reflections. 14. Brewer’s Blackbird. 
B. Black duller; head brown. 12. Cowbird. 
C. Lesser wing-coverts scarlet. 
1. Scarlet area bordered posteriorly by white. 18. Tricolored Redwing. 
2. Scarlet area bordered by warm buff (at least basally). 19. Red-winged Blackbird. 
II. Plumage black and yellow, touched with white. 
A. Foreparts cadmium yellow setting off black mask. 15. Arizona Hooded Oriole. 
B. Foreparts and back black; underparts pure yellow. 16. Scott’s Oriole. 
C. Crown continuous with black;-underparts orange. 17. Bullock’s Oriole. 
D. Head, neck and breast chiefly yellow; a large white patch on 
wing; remaining plumage black. 20. Yellow-headed Blackbird. 
E. General plumage black; nape honey-yellow; rump, etc., pale 
white. E 22. Bobolink. 
III. Upperparts brownish-streaked; breast yellow with black cres- 
cent. 21. Western Meadowlark. 


Key to ADULT FEMALES AND YOUNG 
I. Plumage chiefly streaked. : 
A. With much tawny yellow. 22. Bobolink (female and young, and 
male in autumn). 


2075 


B. Chiefly black, more or less streaked with whitish, and some- 
times tinged with rusty. 


1. Darker. 18. Tricolored Redwing. 
2. Lighter. 19. Red-winged Blackbird. 
C. Light and dark gray. 12. Cowbird (Im.). 
D. Upperparts streaked; breast yellowish with veiled black jug- 
ulum. 21. Western Meadowlark. 


II. Plumage little if any streaked. 
A. Nearly unicolored, much like males but without special decora- 
tion or glosses. 


1. Fuscous and drab, obscurely varied. 12. Cowbird (female). 
2. Blackish slate, shading to neutral gray below. 13. Rusty Blackbird. 
3. Foreparts grayish brown, shading posteriorly into mingled 
drab and glossy black. 14. Brewer’s Blackbird. 
4. Brownish dusky with some outcropping of dull yellow, es- 
pecially on breast. 20. Yellow-headed Blackbird. 
B. Plumage varied, but extensively yellow or yellow-tinged. 
1. Underparts entirely yellow. 15. Arizona Hooded Oriole. 
2. Breast chiefly black, everywhere more or less tinged with 
greenish yellow. 16. Scott’s Oriole. 
3. Color tone reddish yellow; underparts extensively whitish; 
tail yellow below. 17. Bullock’s Oriole. 


Family 3. Frincittipa#. Sparrows. 


Small to medium-sized Passeres, having 9 primaries, a cone-shaped beak, and the commissure (line of closure 
of mandibles) angled, sharply declined downward near base (a character shared only, and in lesser degree, by the 
Icteridae). Plumage chiefly of modest colors, inclined to uniformity or else streakiness—but also brilliant exceptions. 
Eggs, chiefly 3-6, sometimes unpigmented but usually more or less heavily spotted or blotched. Cosmopolitan 
except Australia—the largest family of birds in North America. As a whole contains over 600 species, of which 52 
species or 108 “‘forms” Californian—nearly one-fifth of our total avifauna. 

NOTE.—Although careful descriptions of juvenile plumages are given in the text, the key furnished below as- 
sumes to cover adult plumages only, and those in the most obvious and artificial fashion. The field is one of extreme 
difficulty for the novice. 

I. Plumage pattern of adults (at least of adult males) exhibiting 
uniform or else contrasting color areas; not conspicuously 


streaked. 
A. Conspicuously marked with red. 
1. Tips of mandibles crossed. 24. Red Crossbill. 
2. Chiefly rosy red, but at least crissum ashy gray. 25. California Pine Grosbeak. 
3. Red in highest plumage only nearly engulfing an otherwise 
streaked bird. 
a. Crown carmine red, contrasting with back. 32. Cassin’s Purple Finch. 
b. Crown duller, like back. 33. California Purple Finch. 
4. Nape broadly vermilion red; remaining plumage chiefly 
purplish. 71. Beautiful Bunting. 
5. A large red spot on chest; otherwise black and white. 73. Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 


B. Conspicuously marked with rufous or brownish. 
I. Crown and hind neck chestnut; otherwise extensively olive- 


green. 66. Green-tailed Towhee. 
2. Sides and flanks broadly tawny; otherwise black and white. 67. Spotted Towhee. 
3. Chest ochraceous tawny: otherwise blue and white. 70. Lazuli Bunting. 
4. Underparts and rump extensively orange-tawny; black and 2 
white and lemon-yellow elsewhere. 74. Black-headed Grosbeak. 


C. Conspicuously marked with blue. 
1. Head, neck, and upperparts light blue; elsewhere tawny and 


white. 70. Lazuli Bunting. 
2. Hind-neck, rump, etc., purplish blue; elsewhere red and 

purplish. 71. Beautiful Bunting. 
3. Chiefly violet blue. 72. Blue Grosbeak. 


D. Conspicuously marked with yellow or olive. 


1. Length 5.50 or more. 
a. Plumage chiefly sooty olive-brown or olive-yellow. 23. California Evening Grosbeak. 
b. Tips of mandibles crossed. 24. Red Crossbill (female). ; 
c. Plumage gray, washed with dingy yellow or ochraceous. 25. California Pine Grosbeak (fe- 
male). 
d. Extensively yellow or olive-gray; crown chestnut. 66. Green-tailed Towhee. 


c. Avxillars and wing-linings lemon-yellow; otherwise black 
and tawny. 

2. Length about 5 inches. 

a. Chiefly yellow and black in abruptly contrasting pattern. 

d, Black of crown less distinct by reason of olive-green back. 

General color neutral gray. 

c. Breast only clear yellow; throat (narrowly) black. 

Or else at least marked with black or blackish or neutral gray 
in solid area. 
Chiefly black; a large white blotch on wing. 

Head and neck broadly blackish abruptly contrasting with 
white of underparts centrally. 

a. General color slaty black (female lighter, more brownish). 

b. Head, neck, and chest sooty black contrasting with back. 

c. Head and neck all around neutral gray; back chestnut- 

brown. 

d. Lores, chin, throat, and chest centrally black; crown neu- 

tral gray. 
F. Of nearly uniform coloration. 

1. General color cinnamon-gray; crissum mikado-brown. 

2. Olive-brown to drab; crissum abruptly tawny. 

II. Plumage (at least of adult female) conspicuously streaked in 

some portion. 

A. Conspicuously marked with red. 

1. Smaller—length 5.50 or less; chin, lores and frontlet black. 

2. Larger—length 6 or over. 

a. Plumage rich brown bordered by rosy; streaking confined 
to middle of back. 

b. Both sexes heavily and almost uniformly streaked, but 
young(?) males more or less suffused with red. 

(1). Red clearer, brighter, and more confined to definite 
areas. 
(2). Red duller, more diffused. 
(a). Crown brighter than back. 
(b). Crown like back in color. 
B. Marked with rufous or brownish in definite clear area. 

1. Upperparts of nearly uniform (blended) coloration (save in 
typicus which is highly variegated); underparts more or less 
heavily streaked. 

2. Top of head reddish brown. 

a. Above chiefly rufous, mingled (except on crown where 
almost pure) with olive-gray. 

b. Tail forked. 

(1). No black on forehead; two rather conspicuous bars of 
white on wing. 
(2). Extreme forehead black; wing-bars inconspicuous. 
c. Tail rounded; back heavily striped with black; under 
plumage, except chin and throat, heavily washed with 
brownish gray. 
3. Cervical collar chestnut. 
a. Entire head, throat and chest black. 
b. Head black, white and buff. 
4. Bend of wing “bay” (sayal brown). 
C. Conspicuously marked with yellow. 

1. Flight-feathers and rectrices sulphur-yellow at base. 

2. Abroad crown-patch pyrite yellow (or dull olive-yellow, im.). 
D. Marked with definite black area. 

Chin, throat and breast, broadly, black; pileum mouse-gray. 

Head, throat and chest black; nape chestnut. 

Crown, sides of neck and breast black; throat buffy. 

“Face,” chin and upper throat black; underparts neutral 
gray. 

Top of head, face, broadly, and throat black, the color break- 
ing up posteriorly; belly white. 

E. Streaked sparrows marked by other sharply distinguishing 

characters. 


om 


mW BPwWwH 


74. 
29. 


30. 
31. 


38. 
50. 
51. 
52. 
47. 


68. 
69. 


27. 


26. 


Black-headed Grosbeak. 
Willow Goldfinch. 


Green-backed Goldfinch. 
Lawrence’s Goldfinch. 


Lark Bunting. 
Slate-colored Junco. 
Oregon Junco. 
Gray-headed Junco. 
Desert Sparrow. 


Albert’s Towhee. 
Brown Towhee. 


Common Redpoll. 


Sierra Nevada Rosy Finch. 


. California Linnet. 


. Cassin’s Purple Finch. 
. California Purple Finch. 


. Fox Sparrow. 


. Rufous-crowned Sparrow. 


. Western Tree Sparrow. 

. Western Chipping Sparrow. 
. Swamp Sparrow. 

. Alaska Longspur. 


. Chestnut-collared Longspur. 
. Vesper Sparrow. 


. Pine Siskin. 
. Golden-crowned Sparrow. 


. English Sparrow. 

. Alaska Longspur. 

. Chestnut-collared Longspur. 
. Black-chinned Sparrow. 


. Harris’s Sparrow. 


1. Notably gray. 
a. Head and neck above and on sides deep neutral gray; 
blackish streaking of back and scapulars very light. 48. Bell’s Sparrow. 


b. As foregoing but much lighter gray; black streaking heay- 


ier. 49. Sage Sparrow. 
2. A whitish or buffy blotch on wing. 38. Lark Bunting (female). 
3. Head notably striped. 
a. Head sharply variegated, black, white and chestnut. 39. Western Lark Sparrow. 


b. Crown-stripes black (or mars brown) separated by central 
stripe and bounded by superciliaries of white. 


(1). Lores narrowly black. 59. White-crowned Sparrow. 
(2). Lores not black—whitish instead. 
(a). Lighter throughout; bend of wing pale yellow. 60. Gambel’s Sparrow. 
(b). Darker throughout; bend of wing more strongly 
yellow. 60a. Nuttall’s Sparrow. 
ce. Superciliary yellow on anterior portion. 61. White-throated Sparrow. 


4. Head less notably striped. 
a. Head showing 12-radiate pattern of blackish and whitish; 
superciliary tinged or not with yellow; inner secondaries 
lengthened, about equal to primaries in closed wing. 


(1). Of medium color tone; bill less than .50 (12.7). 41. Savanna Sparrow. 
(2). Darker throughout; bill .45 (11.5). 42. Belding’s Sparrow. 
(3). Medium color tone; bill about .52 (13). 43. Large-billed Sparrow. 
b. 12-radiate pattern of head more varied in tone and less 
distinctly maintained; inner secondaries not lengthened. 
(1). Broadly streaked; chest not specially tinged. 62. Song Sparrow. 
(2). Sharply streaked; chest definitely creamy buff. 63. Lincoln’s Sparrow. 


F. The merely streaked. 
1. Rectrices narrow and sharpened; breast and sides suffused 
with cinnamon or tawny. 


a. Suffusion of breast light; a yellow spot over eye. 44. Western Grasshopper Sparrow. 
b. Suffusion of breast, etc., strong; no yellow over eye. 45. Nelson’s Sparrow. 
2. Rectrices normal; entirely but not strongly streaked. 56. Brewer’s Sparrow. 


Family 4. Tanacrip®. Tanagers. 

Small to medium-sized Passeres, having 9 primaries and moderate, somewhat turgid beaks, with culmen of 
convex outline, notched at tip and toothed or lobed near middle of the maxillary tomia; tarsi scutellate. An essen- 
tially neo-tropical family of chiefly high-plumaged birds, some members of which are not easily distinguishable from 
Fringillids, on the one hand, or Mniotiltids on the other. Approximately 300 species, of which 2 Californian. 

I. Male dull red; female chiefly yellowish olive-green and without 


wing-bars. 75. Summer Tanager. 
II. Male yellow and black with bright red on head; female olive-gray 
to greenish yellow, with whitish wing-bars. 76. Western Tanager. 


Family 5. Mwytiotittip#. Wood Warblers. 

Chiefly small-sized Passeres having 9 primaries, slender or flattish beaks of simplest form and scutellate tarsi,— 
destitute of notable modifications of any sort. A fairly homogeneous and generalized type, difficult to define by 
reason of very simplicity. An exclusively American family of some 200 species, notably migratory throughout the 
United States and British Possessions. 24 species recorded for California, of which 7 accidental or nearly so, and only 
12 breeding. 

I. Underparts streaked. 
A. Streaks chestnut. 


1. Remaining plumage yellow. 83. Yellow Warbler. 
2. Crown chestnut; back olive-brown. 93. Palm Warbler. 
B. Streaks black or blackish. 
1. Entire plumage black and white. 77. Black-and-white Warbler. 
2. Throat black (in highest plumage) on a yellow ground. 89. Townsend’s Warbler. 
3. Upperparts, at least in part, blue-gray. 
a. Rump yellow. 
(1). Throat white. 86. Alaska Myrtle Warbler. 
(2). Throat yellow, not streaked. 
(a). Middle of tail white. 84. Magnolia Warbler. 
(b). Tail-feathers notched with white near tips. 87. Audubon’s Warbler. 


b. Rump not yellow; throat black; a supraloral spot of yellow. 88. Black-throated Gray Warbler. 
4. Upper plumage chiefly olive-brown or olive buffy. 


2078 


a. Crown ochraceous orange. 95. Oven-bird. 
b. Crown much like back. 
(1). Superciliary white; underparts whitish; throat nearly 


immaculate. 96. Louisiana Water-Thrush. 
(2). Superciliary and underparts tinged with yellow; throat 
spotted. 97. Alaska Water-Thrush. 


II. Underparts without streaks. 
A. Plumage chiefly or conspicuously yellow. 


1. Length over 7; anterior underparts bright yellow. 99. Western Chat. 
2. Length under 6. 
a. Entire head slaty or dark gray. 94. Tolmie’s Warbler. 
b. Forehead and cheeks black. 98. Yellow-throat. 
c. Crown-patch, if any, lustrous black. 100. Wilson’s Warbler. 
d. Throat broadly black; two white wing-bars. 
(1). Head clear yellow. 91. Hermit Warbler. 
(2). Top of head ‘“‘warbler-green’’ (olivaceous). 90. Black-throated Green Warbler. 
e. Pileum and hind neck bluish ash. 78. Tennessee Warbler. 
f. Forehead above and on sides neutral gray; a partially con- 
cealed crown-spot of chestnut. 80. Calaveras Warbler. 
g. A concealed crown-spot of orange. 79. Orange-crowned Warbler. 


B. Upperparts chiefly light neutral gray. 
1. A partially concealed patch on crown, and upper tail-coverts 
chestnut. 81. Lucy’s Warbler. 
2. Crown-patch chestnut; rump lemon-yellow. 82. Virginia’s Warbler. 
C. Upperparts green-blue-gray, spotted with black; forehead, 
throat, breast and sides black; a white blotch on wing 


(diagnostic for female). 85. Black-throated Blue Warbler. 
D. Crown olive-yellow; sides chestnut. 92. Chestnut-sided Warbler. 
Plumage chiefly black, with patches of salmon-red (dull 
yellow, female and young male). 101. American Redstart. 


Family 6. Htrunpinipz#. Swallows. 


Small to medium-sized Passeres, having 9 primaries, chiefly lengthened (the longest always more than twice as 
long as the longest secondary); bill flattened, small, triangular in vertical aspect; culmen minutely hooked at tip and 
notched subterminally; gape deeply cleft; rictal bristles few, short, or wanting; feet small and weak; tarsi short, 
chiefly scutellate. Eggs 3-8, white, immaculate, or spotted. A cosmopolitan family of over 100 species, of which 
7 Californian. 

I. Upperparts brown or brownish gray without metallic reflections; 
underparts white. 
A. A brownish gray band across chest. 105. Bank Swallow. 
B. Breast and sides suffused with brownish. 104. Rough-winged Swallow. 
II. Plumage of upperparts with metallic luster. 
A. Nearly unicolored; underparts like back, or merely lighter 


shaded (female). 102. Western Martin. 
B. Throat rufous, chestnut or brownish. 
1. Tail deeply forked. 106. Barn Swallow. 
2. Tail not forked; upper tail-coverts rufous or buffy. 103. Cliff Swallow. 
C. Underparts entirely white. 
1. Upperparts slaty blue or steely green. 107. Tree Swallow. 
2. Upperparts bronzy green and violet. 108. Violet-green Swallow. 


Family 7. Ampetip#. Waxwings. 


Medium-sized Passeres having 10 primaries, the outermost minute; tail shorter than wing; bill short, stout, 
slightly hooked and notched at tip; nostrils nearly concealed by dense velvety feathering; plumage soft and exquisitely 
graduated and blended in coloring; head with a conspicuous crest; tips of shafts of secondaries and sometimes rec- 
trices (of two species) ornamented by horny appendages which have the appearance of red sealing-wax. Eggs 4-6, 
dull bluish gray, sharply and sparingly spotted with black. A small homogeneous group of 3 species, of sub-Arctic 
and North Temperate range, 2 Californian. 

I. Larger; throat black; wings spotted with white. 109. Bohemian Waxwing. 
II. Smaller; throat brown; no white on wings. 110. Cedar Waxwing. 


Family 8. Priroconatinm. Silky Flycatchers. 

Moderate-sized Passeres having 10 primaries, the outermost well developed (but not more than as long as gth); 
wings short, rounded; tail lengthened, fan-shaped; bill short, flattened, and deeply cleft; rictal bristles well developed; 
tarsus scutellate; plumage silky, lustrous, often blended, never spotted, even in immature. Eggs 2 or 3, gray, finely 
speckled. An exclusively ““Middle American” family of 4 species, 1 Californian. 

111. Phainopepla. 


2079 


Family 9. Vireonip#. Vireos. 


Small Passeres having 10 primaries, the outermost (strictly speaking the roth, but formerly, and occasionally 
herein, referred to as the 1st) never more than half as long as the gth, sometimes rudimentary and concealed; wings 
longer than tail; bill moderate; hooked and notched at tip; tarsus longer than middle toe and claw, scutellate; color 
pattern never streaked, of modest and often blended tones. Eggs 3-4, white, sharply, minutely, and sparingly spot- 
ted. An American family, chiefly tropical, of some 70 species, 7 recorded for California. 


I. Outermost primary well developed, at least one-third, often one- 
half, as long as next (9th). 
A. Length over 5.00; gray coloration. 117. Gray Vireo. 
B. Length less than 5.00. 
1. Dingy yellowish; wing-bars whitish; a pale yellowish ring 
nearly encircling eye. 116. Hutton’s Vireo. 
2. Dull gray above, white below. 118. Least Vireo. 
II. Outermost primary rudimentary or else very small, less than one- 
third as long as gth. 
A. Length 6.00 or more. 
1. A narrow white eye-ring; whitish wing-bars; slaty gray head 


contrasting with olivaceous back. 115. Solitary Vireo. 
2. Crown grayish slate bordered by blackish; iris red. 112. Red-eyed Vireo. 
3. Somewhat as in preceding, but with strong increase of yel- 
low. 113. Yellow-green Vireo. 
B. Length less than 6.00—a very “plain” bird. 114. Western Warbling Vireo. 


Family to. Lanup#. Shrikes. 


Medium-sized Passeres having 10 primaries (the outermost sometimes more than half as long as the 2nd [gth] 
but usually less); wings and tail rounded, usually of about equal length; bill well developed and conspicuously hooked, 
notched and toothed near tip of upper tomium; feet relatively rather weak; tarsi scutellate in front, and also upon 
outside. Plumage usually sober—black, white, gray, brownish or rufous. Young with plumage-wavy-barred or 
vermiculated. Eggs 3-7, whitish or gray, boldly spotted. About 200 species with distribution chiefly Old World, 
especially northerly—not found in South America. In North America represented by two species, both Californian. 


I. Larger; wing about 4.50. 119. Northwestern Shrike. 
II. Smaller; wing 4.00 or less. 120. White-rumped Shrike. 


Family 11. Paripm. Titmice. 


Small Passeres having 10 primaries, the outermost not more than half as long as the longest; wings rounded; 
tail variable; bill small, much shorter than head, the maxillary tomium without subterminal notch, the nostrils 
entirely concealed by “antrorse’”’ (directed forward) frontal feathers (in this respect, as in several others, closely 
resembling the Corvidz); tarsus scutellate; ‘‘anterior toes much soldered at base.” Plumage often loose and fluffy. 
Eggs 4-10, white, unmarked, or variously speckled and spotted. Northern Hemisphere, chiefly Palearctic; over 
200 species and subspecies—7 species Californian. 


I. Crested; unicolored. 121. Plain Titmouse. 
II. Not crested. 
A. Head yellow; bend of wing bright chestnut. 125. Verdin. 
B. Olive-brown and mouse- gray. 
1. Color of pileum contrasting with that of back. 126. Coast Bush-Tit. 
2. Pileum of same color as back. 127. Lead-colored Bush-Tit. 
C. Throat black; pileum black or brown. 
1. Top of head, including eye, solid black. 122. Oregon Chickadee. 
2. Black of head interrupted by white superciliary. 123. Mountain Chickadee. 
3. Top of head dull sepia brown, blackening on borders; back 
chestnut. 124. Chestnut-backed Chickadee. 


Family 12. Sirrip#. Nuthatches. 


Small tree-creeping Passerids having 10 primaries (the outermost less than one-third as long as the next [9th]); 
wing long and pointed; tail short, soft, even-ended; bill long, straight or slightly upturned, without tooth or other 
irregularity of tomia; tarsus about as long as beak, “decidedly longer than middle toe without claw; lateral toes un- 
equal, the middle one much the longest, ‘the inner one (2nd) decidedly shorter than the outer (4th); claws greatly 
developed and sharpened. Eggs 3-9, white, sharply spotted. A small, rather homogeneous family, chiefly Old 
World, but 4 species North American, of which 3 Californian. 


I. Side of head and neck white. 128. White-breasted Nuthatch. 
II. Side of head and neck not entirely white. 
A. A small line over eye. 129. Red-breasted Nuthatch. 
B. No white line over eye. 130. Pygmy Nuthatch. 


2050 


Family 13. CeErtuup#®. Creepers. 


Very small, tree-creeping Passerids having 10 primaries; lengthened but rounded wings; tail either (a) much 
shorter than wing, of unmodified feathers; or (b) about as long as wing, of notably stiffened, pointed feathers; bill 
slender, curved, at least near tip, of simple outline; toes much as in preceding family, claws notably curved. A small 
cosmopolitan (except South America) family, of easily distinguished appearance and habit—less than 20 species, 
the most wide-spread represented in California by two races. 

131. Brown Creeper. 


Family 14. TrocLtopytip&. Wrens. 


Small to medium-sized Passerids, having 10 primaries, the outermost at least half as long as the next (gth); 
wings notably rounded; bill lengthened, slender, compressed, usually decurved, otherwise simple; tarsus long. Color- 
ation more or less brownish or rufescent. Eggs 5-10, white or speckled, often very heavily. A highly developed 
neo-tropical and, to a much larger degree, neo-temperate family, with a small wide-spread spill-over (aggregating 
about I5 species) into the Old World—about 200 species, 150 of them neo-tropical, 7 Californian. 


I. Length about 8 inches. 133. Cactus Wren. 
II. Length 4.50 or over. 
A. Back black, striped with white. 132. Marsh Wren. 
B. Back spotted by dusky and pinkish buffy. 137. Rock Wren. 
C. Back nearly uniform, or at most vaguely barred with dusky. 
1. A distinct white line over eye. 134. Bewick Wren. 


2. No white line over eye. 
a. Above brown changing to auburn on posterior underparts; 


throat broadly white. 138. Auburn Canyon Wren. 
b. Above grayish brown, lightening, but never pure white, 
below. 135. Western House Wren. 
III. Length about 4.00. 136. Western Winter Wren. 


Family 15. Mimips. Thrashers, Mockingbirds. 


Medium-sized Passerids having 10 primaries, the outermost well developed (except in Oreoscoptes at least 
half as long as gth); slender bill, usually decurved and slightly notched toward tip (except in Toxostoma); tarsus 
scutellate; inner (2nd) toe almost or quite free at base. Eggs 3-5, niagara green or pale stone-colored, usually finely 
spotted. An exclusively American group, central in Mexico, and including some of the world’s finest songsters. 
50 species and subspecies, of which 8 Californian. 


I. Smallest, length about 8.00; bill shortest (about .65); outermost 


primary less than half as long as next (gth). 146. Sage Thrasher. 
Il. Middle-sized, length 8.50-11.00; bill moderate; coloration not 
drab. 
A. Length about 8.75; slate-colored, blackening on pileum and 
tail. 144. Catbird. 
B. Length 10.00 or over; black and brownish gray, with white 
blotch on wing. 145. Western Mockingbird. 


III. Middle-sized to largest; bill moderate to largest; coloration drab 
or some derivative thereof. 
A. Smaller. 
1. Length 10.00 or under; bill .94; coloration medium. 140. Bendire’s Thrasher. 
2. Length 10.00 or over; bill 1.29; coloration palest. 142. Leconte’s Thrasher. 
B. Middle-sized, length (of males) about 10.50. [Note: the meas- 
urements given in the text are at fault, and should read: 
Length of males 266 (10.50)]; bill 1.25; coloration medium. 139. Palmer’s Thrasher. 
C. Larger; length 11.00-12.00; bill about 1.40. 


I. Coloration darkest above; lighter but blended below. 141. California Thrasher. 
2. Somewhat lighter above; darker below, with more contrast- 
ing white of throat and rufous of crissum. 143. Crissal Thrasher. 


Family 16. Cincitipa#. Dippers. 


“Aquatic, slender-billed, ‘ten primaried’, acutiplantar Oscines, with plump body, short tail, short and very 
concave wings; rather long, booted tarsi; plumage very soft, compact and underlaid with down, and feathers of the 
anterior portion of the head short and dense, without the usual bristly tips, even the rictal bristles being absent” 
(Ridgway). Eggs 4 or 5, white. A small sharply circumscribed family of about a dozen species, found in Europe, 
central and northern Asia, and in western America south to Argentina. Only one species Californian. 

147. American Dipper. 


2081 


Family 17. Turpin. Thrushes. 


Moderately small to large, but chiefly medium-sized Passerids having 10 primaries (the outermost shortened 
or “‘spurious”’), and booted tarsi (i. e., the front of the tarsus covered by a continuous plate); wings long and pointed, 
usually longer than tail; bill slender, compressed, acute, usually with small subterminal notch; nostril oval or rounded, 
usually well exposed; rictus bristled; anterior toes deeply cleft, the inner (2nd) free to base. Chiefly highly migratory. 
Eggs 3-7, chiefly niagara green, plain or spotted. Young more or less spotted above and below. Nearly cosmo- 
politan, but notably Palearctic and American; about 275 species, of which only 7 Californian. 

I. Bill flattened, broader than deep at base; plumage smoky gray. 154. Townsend’s Solitaire. 
II. Bill not flattened. 


A. Plumage with more or less blue. 


1. Adult male entirely blue, without chestnut. 153. Mountain Bluebird. 
2. With chestnut on back and breast. 152. Western Bluebird. 
B. Head extensively black or slaty; underparts rufous or ochra- 
ceous. 
1. A pectoral band of black; wings varied. 151. Varied Thrush. 
2. No pectoral band; wings plain. 150. Western Robin. 


C. Plumage brown above, spotted below on a whitish ground. 
1. Color of upperparts abruptly contrasting with rufescent 
tail. 148. Hermit Thrush. 
2. Color of back, etc., not contrasting with that of tail. 149. Russet-backed Thrush. 


Family 18. Sytvirp". Old World Warblers, Kinglets, Gnatcatchers, etc. 


“Very small to large ‘ten primaried’, dentirostral, acutiplantar Oscines, with nostrils longitudinal and opercu- 
lated (usually exposed), and with the young not spotted” (Ridgway). A confessedly dificult and probably heter- 
ogeneous family of at least more than 100 species and of nearly cosmopolitan range. The Regulus-Corthylio group 
is of Palearctic derivation, while the Polioptila group is exclusively American. Five species Californian. 


I. Tarsus booted; colors olivaceous; no black on tail. 


A. Male with simple ruby crest. 156. Ruby-crowned Kinglet. 
B. Crest striped, flame-color or yellow, bordered by blackish. 155. Western Golden-crowned King- 
let. 
II. Tarsus scutellate; colors blue-gray and white, with much black 
on tail. 
A. Forehead and superciliaries (of male) black; tail bordered by 
white. 157. Western Gnatcatcher. 
B. Entire top of head black; tail bordered by white. 158. Plumbeous Gnatcatcher. 
C. Top of head black; no white on tail. 159. Black-tailed Gnatcatcher. 


Family 19. Cuama@ipa#. Wren-Tits. 


A small group with intermediate characters, suggestive of Paride on the one hand and Troglodytide on the other, 
but probably not derived from either. Their chief distinctions are short, excessively rounded wings and long, grad- 
uated tails, with plumage notably loose in texture. Only one species known and that confined to California and 


Oregon. 
160. Wren-Tit. 


Family 20. Moracitiuip#. Wagtails and Pipits. 


Rather small terrestrial Passerids having 9 primaries; well developed, rather pointed wings, and greatly elon- 
gated tertials; bill slender, notched near tip; nostrils exposed; tarsi long and scutellate; the outer toe united to middle 
throughout the basal phalanx, the inner toe free to base; the hind claw usually lengthened. Eggs 4 or 5, usually 
heavily spotted or buried under pigment. A highly developed and widely diffused family of the Old World, number- 
ing something over 100 species and subspecies. Six of these are registered as of accidental or borderline occurrence 
in North America, and two more are indigenous. ‘The California species is 

161. American Pipit. 


Family 21. Ataupipm. Larks. 


Terrestrial, nine- or ten-primaried Oscines, having the back of the tarsus rounded (instead of sharpened) and 
scutellate. Bill simple, of various outline, but without subterminal notch; wings long and pointed, the outermost 
(1oth) primary short, rudimentary, or concealed; head usually crested, or with horn-like feather-tufts on each side 
of the occiput. Eggs 3-5, protectively colored. A large, well-defined family of over 100 species; chiefly Old World 
—one very plastic species North American and Californian. 

162. Horned Lark. 


2082 


Family 22. Tyrannip&. Tyrant Flycatchers, New World Flycatchers. 


Characters those of the superfamily, Clamatores. Primaries 10, the outermost fully developed; bill hooked, 
often flattened, sometimes exceedingly so, thus triangular in outline when viewed from above; nostrils usually more 
or less concealed by frontal feathers; proportions exceedingly varied. Eggs 2-6, white, spotted, or variously mottled 
or striped. An American family, chiefly neo-tropical, of widest range and diversity, by reason of which many Os- 
cinine groups are curiously shadowed or simulated. Nearly 600 forms known, of which 33 species North American 
and 17 Californian. 

I. Wing more than 3 inches long. 
A. Plumage with red. 


1. Wing about 3 inches; tail normal. 179. Vermilion Flycatcher. 

2. Wing nearly 5 inches; tail lengthened. 163. Scissor-tailed Flycatcher. 
B. Plumage without red. 

1. Tip of tail broadly white. 164. Kingbird. 


2. Tip of tail not broadly white. 
a. Underparts yellow or yellowish. 
(1). Belly bright yellow. 
(a). Edge of tail abruptly white; whitish of throat not 


contrasting. 165. Western Kingbird. 
(b). Edge of tail merely pale; white of throat definitely 
contrasting with surrounding gray. 166. Cassin’s Kingbird. 


(2). Belly pale yellow or merely yellowish. 
(a). Upper plumage extensively bright brown. 


(al). Larger, wing about 4.30. 167. Arizona Crested Flycatcher. 
(b!). - Smaller, wing 4.00 or under. 168. Ash-throated Flycatcher. 
(b). Plumage dark brown or blackish. 
(a1). Length about 7 inches. 177. Olive-sided Flycatcher. 
(b!). Length about 6 inches. 
(a2). Bill narrow and relatively deep. 169. Phoebe. 
(b2). Bill wider and flatter. 178. Western Wood Pewee. 
b. Underparts contrasting black and white. 170. Black Phoebe. 
c. Underparts cinnamon-buff. 171. Say’s Phoebe. 
Il. Wing less than 3 inches. 
A. Underparts distinctly yellow. 172. Western Flycatcher. 


B. Underparts merely yellowish or sordid grayish. 
1. Above brownish olive; bill normal, width at nostril mm 6 


(.24). 173. Brewster’s Flycatcher. 
2. Upperparts olive; bill relatively narrow, width at nostril 
mm 4.6 (.18). 174. Hammond’s Flycatcher. 


3. Upperparts grayer and lighter. 
a. Smaller; outermost primary shorter than 6th (5th ‘“‘new 
style’’). 175. Wright’s Flycatcher. 
b. Larger; outermost primary as long as or longer than 6th. 176. Gray Flycatcher. 


Orpver 2. TROCHILIFORMES. 
Family Trocuitipe. Hummingbirds. 


Key to ADULT MALES. 
I. Crown as well as gorget metallic iridescent. 
A. Crown and gorget purple; larger. 184. Anna’s Hummer. 
B. Crown and gorget violet; smaller. 185. Costa’s Hummer. 
II. Crown like back; throat scaled. 
A. Gorget some shade of red. 


1. Metallic scales of throat interrupted, ray-like. 180. Calliope Hummer. 
2. Throat-scales lilac-red; outermost primary acicular, its tip 
inclined forward. 181. Broad-tailed Hummer. 
3. Throat- scales coppery red; back green; the chestnut confined 
to sides and tail. 182. Allen’s Hummer. 
4. Throat-scales coppery-red; back chiefly chestnut. 183. Rufous Hummer. 
B. Gorget opaque black, changing posteriorly to violet. 186. Black-chinned Hummer. 


Key to BOTH SEXES. 
I. Plumage showing rufous. 
A. Smallest; length 2.75; central tail-feathers broadening near tip. 180. Calliope Hummer. 
B. Length about 3.35; tail rounded in both sexes, the feathers 
i tapering. 


2083 


1. Tail-feathers sharply tapering, the outermost pair acicular, 


the 4th unmodified. 182. Allen’s Hummer. 
2. Tail-feathers broader, the 4th pair sharply nicked near tip 
on inner web. 183. Rufous Hummer. 


C. Length up to 3.80; tail broad, the three central pairs of rec- 
trices of about equal length (male); female best known from 
absence of characters described in A and B. 181. Broad-tailed Hummer. 
II. Plumage without rufous. 
A. Largest; breadth of outermost pair of rectrices well sustained 


to tip. s 
1. Length up to 4 inches; lateral rectrix more than 5 mm wide. 184. Anna Hummer. 
2. Length about 3.40; lateral rectrix 4 mm or less. 185. Costa’s Hummer. 


B. Length about 3.75; lateral rectrices abruptly tapering to tip. 186. Black-chinned Hummer. 


Orper 3. CYPSELIFORMES. 
Family Cyesetip&. Swifts, Swiftlets. 


1. Plumage chiefly blackish, tarsi naked. 


A. Largest, length 7 inches or more. 188. Northern Black Swift. 
B. Smaller, length 5 inches. 189. Vaux’s Swift 
2. Throat and breast white. 197. White-throated Swift. 


Orpver 4. PICIFORMES. 
Family Picip®. Woodpeckers, Wrynecks, Piculets. 


A rather homogeneous group of tree-haunting birds with special adaptation for climbing, boring, or the appre- 
hension of ants. ‘The Picine, or Woodpeckers proper, which alone are found in the United States, have stout, usually 
straight, chisel-shaped beaks; wings with 10 primaries, the outer reduced or “‘spurious’’; rectrices 12 (the outer pair 
often spurious; feet ‘‘zygodactylous”’ by reversion of the 4th toe, (the hallux wanting in one group); tongue often 
remarkably extensible by reason of development of hyoid apparatus. Pygmy to crow size. Eggs 3 or 4—10, pure 
white; young naked. A cosmopolitan group of more than 400 species and subspecies, of which 16 species Californian. 


I. With only 3 toes. 195. Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker. 
II. With 4 toes. 
A. Length about 17 inches; head crested. 199. Western Pileated Woodpecker. 
B. Length over 10 inches, under 14. 
1. Bill straight; plumage black above, red below. 201. Lewis’s Woodpecker. 
2. Bill slightly decurved. 
a. Length 12-13 inches; quills golden yellow. 203. Yellow-shafted Flicker. 
b. Length up to 14 inches; quills orange-red. 204. Red-shafted Flicker. 
c. Length 10-11 inches; quills yellow. 205. Mearns’s Gilded Flicker. 


C. Length over 8, under ro inches. 
1. Chiefly black above; underparts white interrupted by black 


collar. 200. California Woodpecker. 
2. Head white, remaining plumage black. 194. White-headed Woodpecker. 
3. Back black, broadly striped with white; underparts white. 190. Hairy Woodpecker. 
4. Plumage highly variegated. 
a. Belly not yellow. 
(1). Crown, nape, and throat red. 196. Red-naped Sapsucker. 
(2). Head and breast buried in red. 197. Red-breasted Sapsucker. 


b. Belly yellow. 
(1). Belly broadly yellow, rump pure white; sexes dis- 


similar. 198. Williamson’s Sapsucker. 
(2). Belly narrowly yellow, rump barred with black; 
sexes similar. 199. Gila Woodpecker. 
D. Length under 8 inches. 
1. Back black, broadly striped with white. 191. Downy Woodpecker. 
2. Back black, cross-barred with white. 
a. Crown (of adult male) crimson. 192. Cactus Woodpecker. 
b. Occiput only (of adult male) crimson. 193. Nuttall’s Woodpecker. 


Orver 5. CORACIIFORMES 
Family Aucepinip#. Kingfishers. 


Roller-like birds having highly developed, usually straight and acute beaks, with corresponding development of 
foreparts; II primaries; 11-14 secondaries; rectrices usually 10; feet small and weak, unsuitable for progression, 


2084 


“sympelmous,” the outer (4th) and middle toes wnited for at least half their length; the inner toe (2nd) weakened; the 
soles of all greatly flattened; plumage often highly colored. Size pygmy to crow. Eggs 2-10; pure white. A large 
family of cosmopolitan distribution, but chiefly palzo-tropical and Australian; some 200 forms described; only one 


Californian. 
206. Western Belted Kingfisher. 


Orver 6. CAPRIMULGIFORMES. 
Family Caprimutcipa#. Goatsuckers, etc. 


Characters defined under the order. Nearly cosmopolitan. About 125 species. 3 Californian. 


I. Bristles well developed; nostrils distinctly tubular. 207. Nuttall’s Poorwill. 
II. Bristles minute; nostrils scarcely tubular. 
A. A white patch on primaries occupying 5 outer quills and placed 


proximally to the tip of the 7th. 208. Pacific Nighthawk. 
B. A white (or tawny) patch occupying 4 outer quills and placed 
more distally, opposite tip of 6th. 209. Texas Nighthawk. 


Orver 7. STRIGES. 


Family 1. Tyronip#. Barn Owls. 


A singularly uniform group, showing deep-seated structural differences from the other owls, as, for example, 
the furculum (wish-bone) ankylosed (united) to the manubrium, the anterior extension of the breast-bone. Eggs 
elongate ovate, not rounded. One genus of some 30 species and subspecies, one Californian. 

210. American Barn Owl. 


Family 2. Stricip#. Other Owls. 


I. Head with conspicuous ear-tufts. 


A. Length about 2 feet. 218. Horned Owl. 

B. Length about 15 inches. 
1. Ear-tufts prominent. 211. Long-eared Owl. 
2. Ear-tufts much reduced. 212. Short-eared Owl. 

C. Length 8-10 inches; irides yellow. 216. Screech Owl. 

D. Length about 7 inches; irides dark. 217. Flammulated Screech Owl. 

II. Head without ear-tufts. 

A. Color chiefly white. 219. Snowy Owl. 

B. Color not extensively white. 
1. Length two feet or more. 214. Great Gray Owl. 
z. Length 16 inches or more. 213. Spotted Owl. 
3. Length 1o or under; tarsi lengthened, exposed. 220. Burrowing Owl. 
4. Length about 8 inches; facial disc highly developed. 215. Saw-what Owl. 
5. Length about 7 inches; facial disc less prominent. 221. Pygmy Owl. 
6. Length about 6 inches; tarsi nearly naked. 222. Arizona Elf Owl. 


Orver 8. COCCYGES. 
Family Cucutip®. Cuckoos. 


Characters those of the order. More than 250 species, of which two Californian. 


I. Length 2 feet or less; bill, tarsus and tail lengthened, ground- 
haunting. 223. Road-runner. 


II. Length a foot or over; tree haunting. 224. California Cuckoo. 


OrpeR 9. COLUMBIFORMES. 
Family Cotumpip#. True Pigeons, Doves. 


Characters those (normal) of the order. More than 400 species, 4 Californian. 


I. Tarsus feathered above; largest—length about 16 inches. 225. Band-tailed Pigeon. 
II. Tarsus naked throughout. 
A. Tail of 14 feathers, lengthened, wedge-shaped. 226. Western Mourning Dove. 
B. Tail of 12 feathers. 
1. Length about 12 inches; a white patch on wing. 227. Western White-winged Dove. 
2. Length about 7 inches. 228. Mexican Ground Dove. 


2085 


OrpveR 10. CHARADRIIFORMES. 


Family 1. Puataropopip®. Phalaropes. 


Moderate-sized Shore-birds, having special modifications fitting them for a more aquatic life; compact, “water- 
proof’ plumage, tarsi greatly compressed (to cut the water); toes semi-palmate, and broadly margined with collapsible 
membrane. Females larger and more brightly colored than males. 3 species, breeding northerly, all Californian. 


I. Bill broad and stout; lobes of feet pronounced. 229. Red Phalarope. 

II. Bill slender; lobes of toes less pronounced. 
A. Bill less than 1.00; lobes crenate. 230. Northern Phalarope. 
B. Bill decidedly longer than 1.00; lobes scarcely indicated. 231. Wilson’s Phalarope. 


Family 2. Recurvirostrip&. Avocets and Stilts. 


Medium-sized Shore-birds having extreme development of neck, bill and legs. 
I. Bill conspicuously upturned. 232. Avocet. 
II. Bill nearly straight. 233. Black-necked Stilt. 


Family 3. Scotopactp®. Snipes, Sandpipers, etc. 


Smallest to largest Shore-birds, chiefly characterized by shape and texture of bill, which is slender, lengthened, 
usually straight, marked on both mandibles by lengthened grooves, the whole of a leathery, superficial consistency, 
and highly sensitive. A large group of about 100 species, chiefly of the Northern Hemisphere. 19 species Califor- 
nian, of which only 4 breeding in State. 


I. Bill more than 2 inches in length. 


A. Bill more than 5 inches. 252. Long-billed Curlew. 
B. Bill less than 4.50 inches. 
1. Bill curved downward. 253. Hudsonian Curlew. 
2. Bill straight or slightly bent upward. 
a. Bill over 3.00. 244. Marbled Godwit. 


b. Bill under 3.00. 
(1). Bill widened and pitted at tip. 
(a). Lower portion of tibia bare for half an inch or less. 234. Wilson’s Snipe. 


(b). Lower portion of tibia bare for nearly an inch. 235. Long-billed Dowitcher. 
(2). Bill not widened at tip. 
(a). Wing with black and white in patches. 248. Western Willet. 
(b). Wing of inconspicuous pattern. 245. Greater Yellowlegs. 
II. Bull less than 2 inches in length. 
A. Toes, 3. 243. Sanderling. 
B. Toes, 4. 
1. Tail-feathers pointed. 237. Sharp-tailed Sandpiper. 


2. ‘ail-feathers not pointed. 
a. Tail barred. 
(1). Wing less than 4.50 inches. 251. Spotted Sandpiper. 
(2). Wing more than 5.00 inches. 
(a). Wing over 6.00. 


(al). Upper tail-coverts white. 246. Lesser Yellowlegs. 
(b!) Upper tail-coverts not white. 250. Bartramian Sandpiper. 
(b). Wing under 5.50. 247. Western Solitary Sandpiper. 


b. Tail not barred. 
(1). Bill over 1.20 inches. 
(a). Wing over 6.50. 


(al). Rump white. 236. Knot. 
(b!). Rump not white. 249. Wandering Tattler. 
(b). Wing under 5.00. 241. Red-backed Sandpiper. 


(2). Bill under 1.20. 
(a). Wing over 4.50. 


(al). Bill over 1.00; wing 5.00 or more. 238. Pectoral Sandpiper. 

(b!). Bill .90 or less; wing about 4.70. 239. Baird’s Sandpiper. 
(b). Wing under 4.00. 

(al). Toes not webbed; bill about .70. 240. Least Sandpiper. 

(b!). Toes webbed at base; bill over .go. 242. Western Sandpiper. 


Family 4. CuHaraprup®. Plovers. 


Shore-birds of small or medium size, having plump, rounded bodies; shortened necks; long, pointed wings reach- 
ing to or beyond tip of tail; and, especially, a short bill (usually shorter than head) shaped much like that of a pigeon, 
i. e., contracted and softened basally, expanded and horny distally; hind toe very small or wanting. Coloration 
often notably black and white. A notable family, well distributed, of about 75 species—7 Californian. 


I. Wing over 6.50. 


A. Wing about 8.00; axillars black. 254. Black-bellied Plover. 
B. Wing about 6.85; axillars brownish gray. 255. American Golden Plover. 
II. Wing less than 6.50. 
Chest crossed by two black bands. 256. Killdeer. 

B. Chest crossed by a single black band. 

1. Feet partially webbed; bill about .50. 257. Semipalmated Plover. 

2. Feet not webbed; bill about .85. 259. Belding’s Plover. 
C. Black confined to sides of chest. 258. Snowy Plover. 
D. No black on chest at any season. 200. Mountain Plover. 


Family 5. Apurizipe. Surf-birds. 


Medium-sized Shore-birds having well-developed hallux; bill somewhat pigeon-like, but the upper mandible 
grooved; the nostril a lengthened slit; scutellation of acrotarsium reduced, the remainder of the tarsal envelope 
reticulate. A monotypic group ranging along the western coast of the Americas. 


261. Surf-bird. 


Family 6. ARenartup#®. Turnstones. 


Medium-sized Shore-birds having well-developed but small hallux; tarsus with regular scutellz both in front 
and behind; bill compressed, short, sharpened; nostrils slit-like; tail slightly rounded. A wide-ranging, northern 
family of two species, both Californian. 

I. Chin and throat always white; plumage variegated. 262. Turnstone. 
II. Foreparts, including chin and throat, blackish. 263. Black Turnstone. 


Family 7. Hmmatoropipm. Oyster-catchers. 


Large-sized, sturdy, rock-haunting Shore-birds, having all black, or black-and-white plumage, stout feet and 
legs, with only 3 toes, and large, exceedingly compressed chisel-shaped beaks adapted to prying. A single genus of a 
dozen species and subspecies, haunting the tropic and temperate shores of the world. 

I. Plumage all black. 265. Black Oyster-catcher. 
II. Plumage black and white. 264. Frazar’s Oyster-catcher. 


Orper 11. LARIFORMES. 


Family 1. Stercorarup®. Skuas and Jaegers. 


Long-winged and chiefly long-tailed Lari, having extensive cere on maxilla, strongly hooked beak; and claws 
relatively large, sharp, and strongly curved. A highly specialized, predatory group, enjoying peculiar immunity 
by reason of close resemblance to milder forms. Chiefly sub-Arctic and sub-Antarctic in distribution, but roving 
with quarry. Seven species, of which 4 Californian. 

I. Largest and stoutest; wing over 15.00 inches. 266. South American Skua. 
II. Smaller and lighter; wing under 15.00. 
A. Middle pair of rectrices broad throughout, their distal portion 
twisted and tips rounded. 267. Pomarine Jaeger. 
B. Middle rectrices tapering, sharp-pointed, not twisted. 
1. Central pair of rectrices projecting about 4 inches beyond 
others. 268. Parasitic Jaeger. 
2. Central rectrices projecting about 8 inches. 269. Long-tailed Jaeger. 


Family 2. Larip&. Gulls. 


Somewhat stoutly proportioned Lari, having moderate wing development; tail usually square; stronger feet, 
compressed tarsi; bill relatively stout, moderately and broadly, or just perceptibly, hooked, the gonydeal angle empha- 
sized. A well-distributed group of some 60 species, of which 13 are reported as Californian, although not more than 
3 as breeders. 

x 


2087 


I. Hind toe minute. 270. Pacific Kittiwake. 
Il. Tail forked to a depth of 1.25 inches. 282. Sabine’s Gull. 
III. Tail square; hind toe developed. 
' A. Head, in summer, blackish hooded; underparts flushed with 
rosy. 
1. Bill red in summer. 279. Franklin’s Gull. 
2. Bill black in summer. 280. Bonaparte’s Gull. 
B. Mantle gray; underparts white; head never hooded with black. 
1. Larger—length 22.00 or over; feet rosy or livid flesh-color. 
a. Primaries without black. 
(1). Primaries white throughout. 
(a). Larger—length over 26.00. 271. Glaucous Gull. 
(b). Smaller—length about 24.00. 272. Iceland Gull. 


Note: The dimensions given in the text, p. 1365, are 
erroneous. Read: wing 385 (15.20); tail 1.60 (6.30); bill 
44 (1.73); tarsus 53.2 (2.09). 


(2). Primaries gray. 273. Glaucous-winged Gull. 
b. Primaries tipped, broadly, with black. 
(1). Mantle dark slaty blue. 274. Western Gull. 
(2). Mantle much lighter, deep pearl-gray. 275. Herring Gull. 
2. Smaller—length usually under 22.00; feet and legs yellow 


or greenish gray. 
a. Bill relatively stout, marked at gonydeal angle with ver- 
milion and a touch of black; mantle deep pearl-gray; 


feet and legs greenish gray; length 20.00-22.00. 276. California Gull. 
b. Bill crossed near tip by dark band; mantle pearl gray; 
feet and legs greenish yellow; length 20.00-22.00. 277. Ring-billed Gull. 
c. Bill weaker, without black; mantle deep pearl gray; feet 
greenish yellow; length 16.00-18.00. 278. Short-billed Gull. 
C. Body-plumage dark, sooty to plumbeous slate; head and neck 
white; bill chiefly red. 281. Heermann’s Gull. 


Family 3. STERNID#. Terns. 


Chiefly slenderly proportioned Lari, having extremely long, pointed wings; tail usually deeply forked; bill slender, 
sharply pointed; curvature of culmen slight; gonydeal angle inconspicuous; legs placed farther back than in Laride; 
feet relatively small, webbing of toes usually incised. Found chiefly upon inland waters save during migrations. 
About 60 species known, of which 8 Californian. 


I. Largest—length 20.00-23.00 inches; proportions stout; tail only 
slightly forked. 283. Caspian Tern. 
“Crow-sized”—length about 19.00; proportions more slender; 
tail deeply forked; feet and legs black. 
A. Bill stouter, depth at base about .79 inches. 284. Royal Tern. 
B. Bill slenderer, depth at base about .50. 285. Elegant Tern. 
III. Length about 15.00; slenderest; tail deeply forked; plumage 
white and gray with black cap (breeding). 
A. Bill red, broadly tipped with black in breeding season. 


1. Outer pair of feathers dark on inner webs. 286. Forster’s Tern. 
2. Outer pair of feathers dark on outer webs. 287. Common Tern. 
B. Bill pure red or only slightly tipped with black in breeding 
season; also more slenderly proportioned. 288. Arctic Tern. 


IV. Length 10.00 or less. 
A. Normal coloration; bill and feet yellow tipped with black; tail 


deeply forked. 289. Brown’s Least Tern. 
B. Plumage black (in breeding season); bill and feet black at all 
seasons; tail only slightly forked. 290. Black Tern. 


OrpeR 12. ALCIFORMES. 
Family 1. AEraup#. Auklets. 


Small Alcids of chunky appearance, with beaks variously modified, and often with appendages or crests of feathers. 
Tail of 14 feathers. 5 species, 2 Californian. 


I. Bill 24 as long as head, proportions ordinary; bird about g inches 


long. 291. Cassin’s Auklet. 
II. Size a foregoing. Bill only % as long as head, stout and curious- 
ly upturned—pugged. 292. Paroquet Auklet. 


2088 


Family 2. CreppHip#. Guillemots. 


Medium-sized Alcids; black, with large white blotch on wing. Rectrices 12-14. Only 1 Californian. 
293. Pigeon Guillemot. 


Family 3. Bracuyrampuip&. Murrelets. 


Small Alcids of somewhat lengthened (short fusiform) proportions; blackish above, white or mottled below; 
bill acute, normal. 5 species, 3 Californian. 


I. Tarsus in front (acrotarsium) “reticulate,” like fine irregular cob- 


blestones. 
A. Rectrices 14. 295. Marbled Murrelet. 
B. Rectrices 12. 296. Xantus’s Murrelet. 


II. Tarsus scutellate (scales flush or overlapping in regular series). 294. Ancient Murrelet. 


Family 4. Aucip#. Auks, Murres. 


Crow-sized Alcids, having nostrils concealed by dense feathers; coloration black above, white below; bill length- 
ened, not specially modified. Rectrices 12: 4 species; 1 (subspecies) Californian. 
297. California Murre. 


Family 5. Fratercutip#. Puffins. 


Crow-sized (or not less than crow-sized) Alcids, having stout compressed beaks, whose appearance is greatly 
heightened during the breeding season by the addition of various deciduous plates. Rectrices 12-14. 4 species. 
3 Californian. 


I. Underparts and sides of head white. 299. Horned Puffin. 
II. General plumage black. 
A. Bill enormously compressed. 298. Tufted Puffin. 
B. Bill more moderate, with elevated horn at base. 300. Horn-billed Puffin. 


OrpvER 13. GRUES. 


Family Gruipm®. Cranes. 


Characters additional to the order are: exposed portion of tibia bare; neck and legs greatly lengthened; bill 
moderately long, straight, acute, or abruptly pointed, the mandible with lateral grooves, the maxilla with deep nasal 
furrow; wings large, rounded, with 11 primaries and up to 22 secondaries. Two well-known Californian forms, here 
grouped as one species. 


301. Sandhill Crane. 


OrpeR 14. RALLIFORMES. 


Family Ratup#. Rails, etc. 


Characters those of the order. About 175 species, of which 9 (7) Californian. 
I. Toes simple; body compressed; no frontal shield (Ralline) 
A. Length about 15 inches. : 


1. More robust—from San Francisco Bay and northerly. 302. California Clapper Rail. 
2. (Doubtfully) smaller and with smaller feet—from San Diego 
region. 303. Light-footed Rail. 
3. From Lower Colorado River. 304. Yuma Clapper Rail. 
B. Length above 8 inches. 
1. Bill decidedly more than an inch long. 305. Virginia Rail. 
2. Bill decidedly less than one inch long. 306. Sora Rail. 
C. Length 7 inches or under; yellowish brown and black. 307. Yellow Rail. 
D. Length 6 inches or less; black. 308. California Black Rail. 
II. Having a bare, horny, frontal shield. 
A. Frontal shield chiefly reddish; toes merely margined. 309. Florida Gallinule. 


B. Frontal shield white; toes with broad collapsible flaps, “lobate’”. 310. American Coot. 


2089 


OrverR 15. GALLIFORMES. 


Family 1. Puastanip@. Pheasants, Blood Pheasants, Coucals, Jungle-fowl, 
Peacocks, etc. 


Old World fowls, with plumage (males at least) often highly modified, sometimes resplendent. The basal 
characters of the group are difficult to define, but may include naked tarsi and toes, exposed nasal fosse, and Ist 
primary shorter than roth (or if longer, as in Phasianus, then tail much longer than wing); and some few plain species 
may be known only by these signs; but the tendency to the bizarre is so strong in most members of the group that 
it expresses itself in a thousand fantastic ways: in lengthened, often many-feathered, or exaggerated, tails; in crests, 
combs, wattles, and above all, spurs, as well as color-patterns of rainbow magnificence. Eggs plain-colored, cream, 
ecru, cafe-au-lait, etc. Over 100 species, of which one extensively introduced in the Pacific Northwest and in Cali- 
fornia. 

311. Mongolian Pheasant. 


Family 2. Pervicipm. Old World Partridges, Francolins, Quails, American 
Partridges and Bob whites. 


Small or medium-sized gallinaceous birds, having notably compacted, “chunky”’ bodies; short necks; tails short 
and not especially conspicuous, of 12-14 feathers, or various. The basal characters, naked nasal fosse, bare feet 
and legs, etc., do not distinguish infallibly from either the Phasianide on one side or the Tetraonid@ on the other; 
and it may be confessed that the name Perdicid@ represents only a practical grouping of a large and unwieldy family. 
Thus defined it embraces more than 200 species, of which 3 Californian. 


I. A crest of lengthened feathers, straight or slightly decurved. 312. Mountain Quail. 


II. A crest of sharply recurved (curled forward) feathers. 
A. Darker; sides like back, with white stripes; abdomen chestnut. 313. California Quail. 
B. Paler; sides chestnut with white; lower belly black. 314. Desert Quail. 


Family 3. TretTraonripm. Grouse proper, Ptarmigans. 


Ground- or tree-haunting Galling having densely feathered nasal fosse, heads completely feathered, save for 
strip over eye; tarsi more or less, often completely, feathered; toes if naked, then with comb-like processes on the 
sides. Medium-sized to large species, non-migratory, or partially nomadic, chiefly northerly or alpine ranging. 
About 25 species, of which 4 Californian. 


I. Largest; tail wedge-shaped, as long as wing and composed of 20 


stiff, pointed feathers. 318. Sage-Hen. 
II. Tail as foregoing but much shorter than wing, composed of 18 
feathers. 317. Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse. 
III. Color bluish dusky; tail square, of 16 feathers, not so long as 
wing. 315. Dusky (Sierra) Grouse. 
IV. Color mottled chestnut and brown; tail rounded, of 18 feathers, 
about as long as wing. 316. Oregon Ruffed Grouse. 


Orper 16. FALCONIFORMES. 


Family 1. Fatconip®. Falcons, Hobbies, Merlins, Kestrels, Caracaras. 


Spirited and highly aggressive Raptors, having long pointed wings, tarsus more or less feathered, shorter than 
the tibia; strong feet with lengthened middle toe and sharp talons; bill sharply hooked and notched near end of max- 
illa; mandible truncated and notched near tip; nostrils included in cere, circular or nearly so, with central tubercle. 
Eggs 2-6, usually 4 or 5; deposited in holes or crannies of cliffs; ochraceous-tinged in the lowermost calcareous layers. 
Young covered with light down. 50 species, 4 Californian. 

I. Normally proportioned. 
Medium sized; 18 inches or more in length. 
1. General color brownish drab; 1st (outermost) primary short- 
er than 3rd. 319. Prairie Falcon. 
2. Upperparts chiefly bluish slaty; sub-rictal area projected as 
broad blackish moustachio outlined against white; Ist 


primary equal to 3rd. 320. Peregrine Falcon. 
B. Smaller; length not over 15 inches. 
1. Upperparts bluish ash or umber brown to blackish. 321. Pigeon Hawk. 
2. Upperparts chiefly rufous. 322. American Kestrel. 
II. Tarsi and feet lengthened and weaker; chin and sides of head 
nearly bare. 323. Audubon’s Caracara. 


2090 


Family 2. Panpionip®. Ospreys, Fish Hawks. 


Fish-eating birds of prey found along sea-coasts and interior waters. Plumage close and firm (water resisting); 
feet enormously enlarged and strengthened, the outer toe reversible to facilitate holding slippery prey. Nests, 
immense piles of sticks, etc. Eggs 2 or 3, rarely 4; ochraceous-tinged basally and heavily pigmented. One species, 
five races, nearly cosmopolitan. The American form is 

324. American Osprey. 


Family 3. Mitvinz. Kites. 


“Tenoble,” but usually very graceful birds of prey, with wings sometimes greatly lengthened; tai! lengthened 
or various; bill and feet relatively small and weak; nostrils oval, obliquely set, usually closed in with a superior mem- 
brane; cutting edge of maxilla festooned or, rarely, toothed; tarsi more or less feathered. Not a closely homogeneous 
group and possibly not separable from the next. Subsists chiefly on insects and minor prey. 35 species, 1 Californian. 

325. White-tailed Kite. 


Family 4. Bureonip®. Hawks, Harriers, Buzzards, Eagles, etc. 


A group of restrained characters, best defined by exclusion of more marked types. Bills various, but never 
strongly notched or toothed; nostrils not circular nor with central tubercle; often a well developed shield or bony 
plate over eye; tarsus shorter than tibia, often feathered. Wings of moderate proportions, often rounded, capable 
of measured and well sustained but not most rapid flight. Quarry seized by pouncing or snatching. Necessarily 
semi-solitary, or, occasionally, gregarious during migrations. Nest usually a substantial structure of sticks, etc. 
Eggs 1-6, the shells bluish white basally (and so invariably distinguished from Falconine types), plain or variously 
marked with reddish browns. A cosmopolitan group, of which 13 species Californian. 


I. Length under 15 inches. 327. Sharp-shinned Hawk. 
II. Length over 16 under 30 inches. 
A. Plumage chiefly black. 


. Lesser and middle wing-coverts and lining of wing chestnut. 330. Harris’s Hawk. 
2. Plumage entirely black, save tail which is crossed by slaty 


zones. 333. Zone-tailed Hawk. 
3. Legs feathered to toes; plumage variously black, melanistic 

phase of 335. American Rough-leg. 
4. Tarsi not feasered; plumage black without trace of pattern, 

or faintly barred on tail, melanistic phase of 331. Western Redtail. 


B. Plumage not chiefly black. 


1. Tail nearly as long as body. 
a. Other proportions, especially legs, greatly lengthened; 


rump white. 326. Marsh Hawk. 
b. Underparts, including wings and tail, finely barred, ashy 

and blackish; smaller. 328. Cooper’s Hawk. 
c. Underparts finely streaked, also wavy-barred or vermicu- 

lated, slaty on white ground; larger. 329. Goshawk. 


2. Length of tail evidently less than that of body. 
a. Tarsi only partially feathered. 
(1). 4 outer primaries emarginate on inner webs. 
(a). Tail of adult chestnut-red with subterminal black 
bar; chiefly white below; no red on wing-coverts. 
Tail of young birds finely banded. 331. Western Redtail. 
(b). Tail of adult black crossed by 5 or 6 white bars; 
lesser wing-coverts chestnut; extensively reddish 
below. 332. Red-bellied Hawk. 
(2). Only outer primaries emarginate on inner web; color 
pattern highly variable, but usually marked or 
banded by chestnut below, especially on breast. 334. Swainson’s Hawk. 
b. Tarsi feathered to the toes. 
(1). Below white, marked with blackish, especially in ab- 
dominal zone; upperparts dark brown to black. 335. American Rough-leg. 
(2). Below white, lightly marked or not at all; legs rich 
rufous and blackish; upperparts extensively rusty 


with brown and white. 336. Ferruginous Rough-leg. 
III. Length over 30 inches. 
A. Tarsi feathered to toes; adult golden brown. 337. Golden Eagle. 
B. Lower half of tarsi bare; adult with white head and tail. 338. Southern Bald Eagle. 


2091 


Family 5. Catuartipo#. American Vultures, Turkey Vultures, and Condors. 


Carrion feeders having head chiefly naked; a lengthened weak-hooked bill; completely perforate nostrils, without 
bony septum; feet unsuited to grasping, with bluish claws, the hind toe much shortened and somewhat elevated; 
wings enlarged, lengthened, and powerful. Large gull to giant size. Birds of this group spend much time awing, 
or when carrion is found gorge to repletion. ‘Their plumage is somber and almost unchanging, and is often charged 
with a fetid odor, that of carrion. Eggs, 1 or 2, plain or highly pigmented. The young are covered with a whitish 
comm and have a long dependency on the ledge or in the cave which serves for nest. Six species, of which 2 Cali- 
ornian. 


I. Largest; length up to 4% feet; a large white blotch on under side 


of wing in adult. 339. California Condor. 
II. Medium sized; length up to 2% feet; unicolored, save for red 
head. 340. Turkey Vulture. 


Orver 17. ANSERES. 


Family Anatip&. Ducks, Geese and Swans. 
Characters those of the order. 
I. Lores feathered. 


A. Bill cylindrical (Mergineg—Mergansers). Sexes unlike. 
1. Bill about as long as head; loosely crested. 
a. Nostrils near middle of bill; male with breast not distinctively 


colored. 341. American Merganser. 
b. Nostrils near base of bill; breast (of male) cinnamon-rufous 
streaked with black. 342. Red-breasted Merganser. 
2. Bill shorter than head; crest (of male) highly developed. 343. Hooded Merganser. 


B. Bill more or less flattened at tip; sexes unlike. 
1. Hind-toe simple (Anatine—River Ducks). 


a. Head crested; bill narrow. 355. Wood Duck. 
b. Head not crested. 
(1). Bill much broadened at tip, “‘spoon-shaped.”’ 353. Shoveller. 
(2). Bill not spoon-shaped. 
(a). Tail lengthened, tapering, longest feathers more 
than half as long as wing. 354. Pintail (male). 
(b). Tail not lengthened, not half as long as wing. 
(al). “Speculum” (subterminal portion of seconda- 
ries) metallic blue or purplish violet. 
(a2). Speculum bordered by white. 344. Mallard. 
(b2). Speculum not bordered by white. 345. Black Duck. 
(b!). Speculum not metallic blue or purplish violet. 
(a2). Speculum white. 346. Gadwall. 


(b2). Speculum not white. 
(a8). Larger, length above 18 inches; wing length 
over 9.00 (mm 228). 
(a4). A large white patch on fore part of wing. 
(a®), Top of head cinnamon (male) or ochra- 


ceous (female). 347. European Widgeon. 
(b5). Top of head white, lightly touched with 
blackish. 348. Baldpate. 
(b4). No white patch on fore part of wing. 353. Pintail (female and young). 


(b3). Smaller, length less than 17 inches; wing 
under 9.00 (mm 228). 
(a4). A large blue patch on fore part of wing. 
(a®). Male chiefly chestnut-red below; bill 
about 1.80 (mm 45.7) (352). 352. Cinnamon Teal. 
(b®). Male without chestnut; a white cres- 
cent on side of head; bill of both sex- 
es 1.60 (mm 40.6) or less. 351. Blue-winged Teal. 
(b4). No blue patch on wing. 
(a5). A white bar on side of breast (of male) 350. Green-winged Teal. 
(b®). No white bar on breast. 349. European Teal. 
2. Hind toe with a broad thin flap (Fuliguline—Sea Ducks). 
a. General plumage black, varied, or not, by white. 


(1). Plumage entirely black. 367. American Scoter. 
(2). Speculum and a spot below and including eye white. 368. White-winged Scoter. 
(3). Nape and forehead white. 369. Surf Scoter. 


(4). Underparts white; wings highly varied by white; a 


rounded white spot on side of head near bill. 361. American Golden-eye (male). 
(5). As in foregoing, but spot on side of head open-wing- 

shaped. 362. Barrow’s Golden-eye. 
(6). Smallest; white still more extended; collar and occiput 

from eye to eye white. 363. Bufflehead (male). 


b. Color pattern of head and neck (or head, neck and fore- 
breast) more or less set off from that of remaining plum- 
age. 
(1). Distinction less sharply defined; black of head and 
neck separated from that of back by obscure chest- 
nut collar. 360. Ring-necked Duck. 
(2). Head, neck and breast black contrasting with varie- 
gated character of remaining plumage. 


(a). Larger, length over 17.50 inches. 358. Greater Scaup Duck. 
(b). Smaller, length under 17.00. 359. Lesser Scaup Duck. 
(3). Head and neck chiefly rufous or brown. 
(a). Head and neck bright chestnut; bill forming dis- 
tinct angle with forehead. 356. Redhead. 
(b). Head and neck rufous and black; slope of bill con- 
tinuous with that of forehead. 357. Canvasback. 
(c). Head and neck snuff-brown, contrasting with gray- 
ish dusky and white of body plumage. 361 and 362. American and Barrow’s 


Golden-eyes (females). 
(d). Head and neck snuff-brown; fore-neck and breast 
dark brown; sides vermiculated grayish brown on 
white; region about base of bill (at least chin) 


white. 358 and 359. The Scaups (females). 
(e). Head and neck mouse-brown; a dull white patch 
below and behind eye. 363. Bufflehead (female). 


c. Color pattern variously distinctive. 
(1). Rich dark brown, ashy gray and white; tail feathers 


of male greatly elongated. 364. Old-Squaw. 
(2). Plumbeous slate slashed with white; female obscurely 

brown and whitish. 365. Harlequin Duck. 
(3). Head highly variegated, black, white, blue and green; 

bill greatly swollen at base (gibbous). 366. King Eider. 


(4). Crown and nape black; cheeks and chin white; remain- 
ing plumage chiefly rich chestnut; female obscurely 
dusky, but sides of head and neck whitish; quills of 
rectrices more or less denuded. 370. Ruddy Duck. 
C. Bill heightened at base, not or not conspicuously flattened at 
tip; tarsi and feet relatively small. Sexes alike (Anserine— 
Geese). 
1. Plumage chiefly white or bluish gray; bill not longer than 
head, sharply tapering, its lamellae much exposed. 
a. Plumage white. 


(1). Larger; bill about 2 inches long. 371. Lesser Snow Goose. 
(2). Smaller; bill about an inch and a half long. 373. Ross’s Snow Goose. 
b. Plumage chiefly bluish gray. 372. Blue Goose. 
2. Plumage chiefly gray, the underparts extensively black in 
shingled or blotchy scaled pattern. 374. White-fronted Goose. 


3. Of dark coloration; head and neck black with touches of 
white; bill and feet black. 
a. Body plumage lighter; cheeks and upper throat white. 375. Canada Goose. 
b. Moreextensively black, and general tone of body plumage 
darker. No white on upper throat or cheeks, touches 


on sides of neck instead. 376. Brant. 
4. Entire body plumage handsomely scaled; head and hind neck 
white tinged with rusty yellow; throat blackish. 377. Emperor Goose. 


D. Bill intermediate in character; tarsi and legs relatively much 
larger. (Dendrocygnine—Tree Ducks). 
1. A large white patch on wing; plumage extensively blackish 378. Black-bellied Tree Duck. 
2. No white on wing; plumage chiefly yellowish brown. 379. Fulvous Tree Duck. 
II. Lores chiefly bare; neck greatly lengthened; plumage (of Ameri- 
can species) pure white. (Cygnine—Swans). 
A. Smaller; tail-feathers normally 20; usually a vellow spot in 
front of eye. 380. Whistling Swan. 
B. Larger; tail-feathers normally 24; no yellow spot on lores. 381. Trumpeter Swan. 2003 
20905 


OrvEeR 18. HERODIONES. 


Family 1. Arpvreip®. Herons, Egrets, Bitterns. 


Solitary or semi-gregarious wading birds of lengthened proportions, having two or three pairs of powder down 
patches; plumage loose; color pattern simple (Egrets) or highly diversified (Bitterns, etc.); head, except lores, com- 
pletely feathered. Birds of deliberate, dignified bearing and leisurely flight, or else marsh-skulking (Bitterns). 
Nesting solitary or colonial. Eggs unmarked; over 100 species, of which 8 Californian. 


I. Tail feathers 12; powder down patches, 3 pairs (Ardeine). 
A. Plumage white. 
1. Larger, length 35.00 or over. 383. American Egret. 
2. Smaller, length about 24.00. 384. Snowy Egret. 
B. Plumage not white. 
1. Bill slender, longer than head. 


a. Largest, length about 48.00. 382. Great Blue Heron. 
b. Of medium size, length about 25.00 (accidental?). 385. Louisiana Heron. 
c. Smallest, length about 17.00. 386. Anthony’s Green Heron. 
2. Bill stout, not longer than head. 387. Black-crowned Night Heron. 
Il. Tail feathers 10; powder down patches, 2 pairs (Botaurine). 
A. Larger, length about 30.00. 388. American Bittern. 
B. Smaller, length about 13.00. 389. Least Bittern. 


Family 2. Ciconupa. Storks, Adjutants, Wood Ibises, etc. 


Wading or stalking birds of stouter proportions (than true herons), especially of neck and bill. They have only 
IO rectrices and no powder down patches. Birds of this family are capable of vigorous, sustained flight, but are voice- 
less. Eggs white, sometimes roughened, unmarked. About 20 species, of which one wanders occasionally into Cali- 
fornia. 390. Wood Ibis. 


Family 3. Isipipz. Ibises. 


Medium or large-sized Herodiones, having cylindrical decurved bills and stouter legs; the anterior toes slightly 
webbed at the base, the hind toe somewhat elevated. While members of this group have a close superficial resem- 
blance, their eggs indicate divergences of great antiquity. About 30 species, one of regular occurrence in California. 

391. White-faced Glossy Ibis. 


Family 4. Puatareip#. Spoon-bills. 


Ibises with specially modified bills, which are long and flat with widened, rounded tips. Six species, of which 
one casual in California. 


392. Roseate Spoon-bill. 


Orver 19. STEGANOPODES. 


Family 1. Puatrnontip®. Tropic-birds. 


Crow-sized oceanic species having rather stout head and neck, plumage white varied by black above; and central 
pair of tail-feathers extraordinarily lengthened. The birds fly with quick regular stroke, range several hundred miles 
from land. and secure their prey by plunging from above, tern-fashion. 6 or 7 species known, of which one has ranged 
north to California. 

393. Red-billed Tropic-bird. 


Family 2. Anuincipz. Darters. 


Fresh-water or brackish-lagoon diving-birds, with slender bodies, elongated necks, and heads curiously reduced 
in size. Degree of bird’s submergence evidently controlled by pneumatic sacs, so that it habitually swims with only 
neck and head, a “‘snake’s head,” protruding. Four species, chiefly tropical, of which the American representative 
barely reaches southeastern California. 


394. Water Turkey. 
Family 3. Puatacrocoracip&. Shags, or Cormorants. 


Sturdy, fish-eating, swimming and diving birds, having plumage chiefly lustrous black or black-and-white; 
lengthened necks; heads reduced in size (but not so much as in Anhinga), and legs inserted well back, insomuch that 
they stand erect and rest more or less upon the tarsus. Cormorants haunt off-shore rocks and range chiefly within 
a dozen miles of land, or else upon the larger interior waters. A widely distributed group boasting some 40 species, 
of which 3 are Californian. 

Larger; iris green. 

A. Gular area definitely yellow; black of body plumage with 
greenish lusters; more brownish in immatures. 395. Farallon Cormorant. 


20904 


oa - 


B. Gular area blue, or only obscurely yellowish on borders; 
blacker, more lustrous, with violet or steel-blue reflections. 396. Brandt’s Cormorant. 
II. Smaller; iris red. Shining black, or with conspicuous white 
flank-patches in breeding season only; bill much smaller. 397. Baird’s Cormorant. 


Family 4. PEtEecantp®. Pelicans. 


Giant-sized birds having bills and gular pouches extraordinarily developed. Found on coastal and major in- 
terior waters, and breeding in colonies. A wide-ranging group of 9 or 10 species, of which 2 Californian. 
I. Plumage chiefly white. 398. White Pelican. 
II. Plumage chiefly brown. 399. California Brown Pelican. 


Family 5. FRrecatip#. Man-o’-war-birds. 


An aberrant raptorial, parasitic group of two closely related species, having stout hooked beaks; small feet; 
long forked tails; and greatly lengthened, powerful wings. They are unsurpassed in wing power, and range widely 
over the open seas. An occasional visitant to California is 

400. Pacific Man-o’-war-bird. 


ORDER 20. PROCELLARIIFORMES. Petrels, etc. 


Family 1. Diomepiupa. Albatrosses. 


Size largest, that of a goose; wings long and narrow, with numerous flight-feathers (up to 50). Flying powers 
unsurpassed, and sea range least limited. Build open nests in vast colonies on uninhabited islands, chiefly in South 
Temperate Zone. Many geographical races, and about a dozen good species, of which 2 Californian. 

Larger, averaging 3 feet in length; plumage (of adult) chiefly 


white; bill and feet light-colored. 402. Short-tailed Albatross. 
II. Smaller, averaging about 32 inches; plumage of adult and young 
sooty black; bill dark; feet black. 401. Black-footed Albatross. 


Family 2. Procettarup#. Petrels, etc. 


Small to large Procellarids, having nostrils united in one double-barrelled tube laid along culmen at base. Family 
otherwise of diverse character and appearance, but color pattern “low,” and distinctions within the sub-groups difh- 
cult. Tireless watchers of the sea, migrating in immense hordes (Shearwaters), or fluttering over the surface of the 
ocean in fashion all but independent (Petrels). About 100 species, of which 14 ‘‘Californian” by reason of capture 
in contiguous waters—only 4, all Oceanodrome, “‘resident”’ as breeders. 

I. Larger, length 12 inches or more. 
A. Mandible not down-turned at tip. 
1. Bill stout, not lamellate; appearance gull-like. 403. Fulmar. 
2. Bill flattened, lamellate, not gull-like. 404. Pintado Petrel. 
B. Mandible down-turned at tip. 
1. Nasal tube short, flattened, and terminating obliquely. 
a. Two-colored, dark type, white below. 


(1). Largest, length about 18.00; slate-colored above. 405. Pink-footed Shearwater. 
(2). Middle-sized, length 16.50; paler (dark gray) above; 

white on inner webs of primaries. 410. New Zealand Shearwater. 
(3). Smallest, length about 12.00. 406. Black-vented Shearwater. 


b. Nearly uniform sooty brown or blackish. 
(1). Largest, length above 19.50; wing-linings sooty brown; 


tarsi and toes flesh-color. 408. Flesh-footed Shearwater. 
(2). Not so large, length about 18.30; wing-linings white; 
tarsi and toes black and yellow. 407. Dark-bodied Shearwater. 
(3). Smallest, length about 15.50; wing-lining restrictedly 
white; “‘feet and legs light gray and dusky.” 409. Slender-billed Shearwater. 
2. Nasal tube ending abruptly, somewhat as in Fulmar. 411. Black-tailed Shearwater. 


II. Smaller, length less than 10 inches. 
A. ‘Tarsus little, if any, longer than middle toe and claw. 


1. General plumage bluish gray. 412. Fork-tailed Petrel. 
2. General plumage blackish. 
a. Upper tail-coverts white. 413. Leach’s Petrel. 
b. No white anywhere. 
(1). Smaller; plumbeous black. 414. Coues’s Petrel. 
(2). Larger; more definitely black. 415. Black Petrel. 
B. Tarsus much longer than middle toe and claw. 416. Wilson’s Petrel. 


OrpDER 21. GAVIA. 


Family Gavip#. Loons. 


Characters those of the order. 4 species, 3 Californian. 


I. Larger, about 3 inches. 417. Common Loon. 
Il. Smaller, length about 26 inches. 
A. Throat black (summer); not white-spotted above in winter. 418. Pacific Loon. 
B. Throat red (summer); back spotted with white in winter. 419. Red-throated Loon. 


OrveR 22. PODICIPEDES. 
Family Popictpepip&. Grebes. 


Characters those of the order. About 25 species, 5 Californian. 


I. Larger. 
A. Length about 26 inches; neck lengthened. 420. Western Grebe. 
B. Length about rg inches; neck stouter. 421. Holboell’s Grebe. 


II. Smaller, length about 13 inches. 
A. Bill slender, black. 
1. Bill stouter, not flattened at base; fore-neck cinnamon-ru- 
fous (in summer); upperparts grayish dusky (winter). 422. Horned Grebe. 
2. Bill slenderer, slightly flattened at base; neck entirely black 
(summer); upperparts grayish black, the breast washed 
with dusky. 423. American Eared Grebe. 
B. Bill stout, light-colored, crossed midway by dark band. 424. Pied-billed Grebe. 


2096 


Hypothetical List 


The sequence of species is substantially that followed in the body of the work. 


Foreword 

In submitting a list of species of presumptive or alleged occurrence within the limits of 
California, care has been taken to exclude: 

1st. Those whose alleged occurrence has been based upon a manifestly imperfect under- 
standing of taxonomic relationships now made clear; e. g., the White-cheeked Goose, Branta 
canadensis occidentalis (Baird). 

2nd. Manifestly erroneous ascriptions which lack a sufficient color of probability to entitle 
them to continued notice; e. g., the Woodcock, Philohela minor (Gmelin). ; 

3rd. Those whose occurrence has been loosely ascribed to ‘“‘California’’ by early voyageurs 
who were at no pains to specify localities or exact circumstances. Ornithological literature has 
long borne the burden of such “‘records,’’ made for the most part by collectors or collectors’ 
friends who touched indiscriminately at many Pacific ports, including those of South America, 
or who crossed distant waters; and who yet mentioned ‘California’ as being the place most likely 
to secure them ready recognition. 

The remaining “‘hypotheticals”’ arrange themselves chiefly in the following classes: 

1st. Birds whose presumed occurrence in California is based upon insufficient or uncon- 
firmed evidence; e. g., Snow Bunting, Plectrophenax nivalis nivalis (Linneus). 

2nd. Birds whose occurrence is indisputable, but whose presence is presumed to have been 
due to artificial agencies; e. g., Gray's Tanager, Piranga rubriceps Gray. 

3rd. Birds whose taxonomic status is still in doubt; e. g., Craveri’s Murrelet, Brachyramphus 
craverit (Salvadori). 

4th. Birds of unique appearance whose validity as species is not exactly determinable; 
e. g., Cooper's Hen-hawk, Buteo cooperi Cassin. 

5th. Hybrids. 

6th. Introduced species which have either failed to establish themselves, or whose ability 
to do so is in doubt. 

In the preparation of this list the author has been closely dependent upon the data laboriously 
prepared by Dr. Grinnell and published in his ‘‘Distributional List’’ (Hollywood, Oct. 21, 1915). 
Only two additional species (Motacilla ocularis and Branta ruficollis) receive consideration here; 
but many cases reported adversely by Dr. Grinnell have been dismissed from attention. Whereas 
the Grinnell list has 61 titles, we are content with 33, as follows: 

1. Corvus cryptoleucus Couch. WHITE-NECKED RAVEN. 

Authority: Bendire, Life Hist. N. A. Birds, vol. ii., 1895, p. 402, records nesting at Fort 
Tejon. Normal Range: Southeastern Arizona east to western Texas and south in Mexico to 
Michoacan. Opinion.—Records dubious but not impossible, as bird is known to have enjoyed, 
formerly, a much wider range. 

2. Icterus icterus (Linnzus). TROUPIAL. 

Authority: Bowles, Condor, xili., 1911, p. 109, reports taking of male at Santa Barbara, 
April 30, 1911. Specimen extant. Normal Range: Colombia and Venezuela. Opinion.—A 
rather challenging occurrence, supported apparently by the synchronous appearance of two other 
birds of the same species at a point several miles distant. These may all have been escaped cage- 
birds, but evidence to the contrary is about as strong as that of such an utterly anomalous case 
could be. 

3. Fringilla coelebs Linneus. EUROPEAN CHAFFINCH. 

Two occurrences: Specimen shot by Joseph Clemens at Monterey, March 4, 1905 (Awet. 
J. Grinnell, Condor, viii., 1906, p. 58); and one seen in Berkeley, May 14, 1908 (Auwct. T. S. Palmer, 
Condor, x., 1908, p. 238). Range: Europe. Opinion.—Unquestionably escaped cage-birds. 

4. Plectrophenax nivalis nivalis (Linneus). SNOW BUNTING. 

Authority: Belding, Condor, v., 1903, p. 19, claims that a flock visited Marysville, in 

Yuba County, in the winter of 1872-73. Normal Range: Arctic and sub-Arctic regions, south 


2097 


in winter to Northern States, etc. Opinion.—Highly probable, although no specimen preserved, 
and not elsewhere reported south of Harney County, Oregon. 
5. Cardinalis cardinalis cardinalis (Linneus). EASTERN CARDINAL. 

Introduced in Sacramento County in 1880 and survived for some years (Belding, Land 
Birds of the Pac. Dist., 1890, p. 175), but not now known as having survived. Several other 
records, all presumably of escaped cage or aviary specimens. 

6. Pyrrhuloxia sinuata sinuata (Bonaparte). ARIZONA PYRRHULOXIA. 

Authority: Sharpe, Cat. Birds Brit. Mus., xii., 1888, p. 158, records specimen from ‘‘Cali- 
fornia’; and Coues (Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1866, p. 90) from Ft. Yuma (Arizona, on banks 
of the Colorado River). Normal Range: Southern Arizona, southern’ New Mexico and western 
Texas, south through western Mexico to Sinoloa. Opinion.—In all probability has occurred in 
Colorado River valley and, possibly, in the old mesquite forest of the Coachella trough, but records 
not considered as established. 

7. Piranga rubriceps Gray. Gray’s TANAGER. 

Authority: W.E. Bryant reports (Auk, iv., 1887, p. 78) specimen shot by W. G. Blunt at 
Dos Palos (later, Naples), Santa Barbara County, ‘‘about 1871.’’ Normal Range: Colombia, 
Ecuador, Peru. Opinion.—Probably an escaped cage-bird. 

8. Dendroica gracia? Baird. Gracre’s WARBLER. 

Authority: Evermann, Auk, iii., 1886, p. 185, records specimen shot near Santa Paula, 
Ventura County, May 3, 1881—lost in San Francisco fire, 1906. Normal Range: Breeds in 
mountains of Arizona, New Mexico and southern Colorado, south to Sonora and Chihuahua. 
Opinion.—Probably a good record, but may possibly have been off plumage of Townsend Warbler. 
9. Toxostoma rufum (Linneus). Brown THRASHER. 

Authority: Baird(?) in Baird, Brewer and Ridgway, Hist. N. A. Birds, iii., 1874, p. 500, 
reports a specimen seen but not secured by Dr. J. G. Cooper at Clear Lake in September, 1870. 
Normal Range: Eastern North America, exceptionally west to Wyoming and even Arizona. 
Opinion.—Occurrence entirely possible, but data regrettably meager. 

10. Motacilla ocularis Swinhoe. SWINHOE’s WAGTAIL. 

The appearance of a bird believed to be of this species in Santa Barbara (about 1912?) was 
reported by the late Bradford Torrey to his friends, but the observer’s modesty prevented a pub- 
lished claim. Mr. Torrey had the bird at close range and could hardly have been mistaken. 
The species summers in northern Siberia, and there are Alaskan records of stragglers, one even 
from Lower California! (Ridgway, Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus., iv., 1882, 414, La Paz, L. C.). 
ir. Muscivora tyrannus (Linneus). _ FORK-TAILED FLYCATCHER. 

Authority: Toppan, Ornithologist and Odlogist, ix., 1884, p. 48, reports having received 
from a dealer at Santa Monica a specimen said to have been shot near that place in late summer 
1883. The specimen in question was destroyed by fire in 1896. Normal Range: Southern 
Mexico to Patagonia, but has wandered north on several occasions and as far as Maine. Opinion.— 
Entirely possible, but data ‘‘regrettably meager.” 

12. Eugenes fulgens (Swainson). RivoLti’s HUMMER. 

Authority: Loomis, Auk, xix., 1902, p. 83, states that a male was taken by J. A. Kusche 
in San Gorgonio Pass, Riverside County, July 15, 1899, and that the specimen was placed in the 
Academy collections (destroyed by fire in 1906). This record has been questioned by Stephens 
(Condor, iv., 1902, p. 42), but the occurrence at the point claimed of a species which breeds in the 
mountains of southeastern Arizona (south to Nicaragua) is not at all impossible. 

13. ‘‘Archilochus violajugulum”’ (Jeffries). VIOLET-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD. 

Described by its discoverer, J. A. Jeffries, who took type and only specimen at Santa Barbara, 
April 5, 1883 (Auk, v., 1888, p. 168). The specimen, an adult male, is conceded to be a hybrid 
between two local species, Archilochus alexandri and Calypte anna. 

14. ‘‘Selasphorus floresii’’ Gould. FLOREsI’s HUMMINGBIRD. 

Originally described by Gould in 1861 from a specimen said to have been taken at Bolanos, 
Jalisco, Mexico; but since the only other known-specimens, three in number (San Francisco, by 
W. E. Bryant, 1885; Haywards, by O. Emerson, Feb. 20, 1901; and Nicasio, Marin Co., by W. P. 
Taylor, Feb. 26, 1909), hail from ‘‘the Bay section”’ of California, it is surmised that Floresi, who 
also collected in California, may really have collected his ‘‘Balanos’’ specimen in the same locality. 
The form is, unquestionably, a hybrid between Selasphorus allenit and Calypte anna,—respectively 
our earliest migrant and exclusively resident species. 


2098 


15. Melanerpes erythrocephalus (Linneus). RED-HEADED \WOODPECKER. 

Authority: Gambel, Journ. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 2nd ser., 1, 1847, p. 55, reports finding 
this bird common in oak timber near the Mission San Gabriel (Los Angeles County). Either 
Gambel was nodding when this statement fell from his pen, or else the sudden substitution of 
M. erythrocephalus for M. formicivorus deserved more rigid investigation. The Red-headed Wood- 
pecker is normally confined to the region east of the Rockies, but it has occurred casually as far 
west as Arizona, and its sporadic appearance in California would not be exactly impossible. 

16. Ceryle americana septentrionalis Sharpe. TEXAs IXINGFISHER. 

Authority: CGoues, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1866, p. 59, claims to have observed this 
species, along with the Belted Kingfisher, in the fall of 1865 ‘‘at several points on the Colorado 
River between Forts Mojave and Yuma.”’ This is high authority, and the claim is several times 
repeated. However, no mention was made of birds seen on the California side of the river. The 
species inhabits tropical Mexico, and occurs north to southern Texas, with one appearance in 
southeastern Arizona. 

17- Otus asio brewsteri Ridgway. BREWSTER’S SCREECH OWL. 

A larger, darker form of Screech Owl is presumptively resident in the northwestern humid 
coastal strip of California; but the line of demarcation between Ridgway’s new subspecies and 
O. a. bendiret has not been agreed upon. 

18. Limosa haemastica (Linnzus). Hubpsonran Gopwit. 

Authority: Sharpe, Cat. Birds Brit. Mus., xxiv., 1896, pp. 391, 756), “California,” without 
citation of locality. These vague ascriptions deserve little credence, but in this case it is not 
impossible that a bird breeding west to western Alaska might pass down the Pacific Coast instead 
of carrying wholly east of the Rockies, as habitually. 

19. Numenius borealis (Forster). Eskimo CURLEW. 

Authority: Heermann, Pac. R. R. Rep., x., 1859, p. 66, “common” ‘‘in the San Francisco 
market’’; also two more recent ascriptions. The species, now practically extinct, was never 
positively recorded west of the Rocky Mountains, and the local claims are believed to have been 
based on small specimens or misidentification of N. hudsonicus. 

20. “&gialitis dubia (Scopoli). LitTLE RINGED PLOVER. 

A specimen, No: 39523, U.S. Nat. Mus., supposed to have been taken at San Francisco, and 
first reported by Ridgway (Amer. Nat.. viii., 1874, p. 109). The evidence is not clear, but this 
palzearctic species has been found casually in Alaska, and might not impossibly drift down the coast. 
21. Creagrus furcatus (Neboux). FORK-TAILED GULL. 

Authority: Anthony, Auk, xii., 1895, p. 291, ‘“‘seen’” “off San Diego.”’ Normal Range: 
Galapagos Islands (breeding), south to Peru. Opinion.—Grinnell rightly disallows the Monterey 
records of Prevost and Des Murs (Voyage of the Venus, 1855), because of South American compli- 
cations; but there are persistent rumors that Creagrus is a great wanderer, and I believe it will 
show up in California if it has not already done so. 

22. Brachyramphus craverii (Salvadori). CRAVERI’S MURRELET. 

Van Rossem’s record (Condor, xvii., 1915, p. 74) of numbers obtained on the ocean ‘‘about 
midway’ between San Diego and ‘‘Los Coronados Islands’”’ (L. C.) might pass as a record if the 
status of B. craverti as a species were not in doubt. It may prove to be nothing more than a pseu- 
domorph of B. hypoleucus. 

23. Grus americana (Linneus). \WHOOPING CRANE. 

Authority: Audubon, Birds Amer., 1842, p. 195, breeding ‘‘from Upper California north- 
ward”’; also, Belding, Zoe, 11, 1891, p. 99, seen in spring and fall in Butte and Sutter Counties. 
Grinnell deems the evidence inconclusive, but my experience of these all-but-vanished birds in 
the State of Washington inclines me to a tolerant view. 

24. Perdix perdix (Linneus). HUNGARIAN PARTRIDGE. 

Introduced, with the scantiest evidence of success, by the California Fish and Game Com- 
mission. The Hungarian Partridge, a native of Europe, seems to afford its pursuers a maximum 
of sport, and its successful introduction into California would be a godsend to our harassed native 
species; but there is evidently a weak spot in its armor somewhere. 

25. Colinus virginianus virginianus (Linneus). BOoB-WHITE. 

Persistent attempts have been made to introduce this eastern favorite as a game-bird of 
California, but all such are foredoomed to failure—unless, perchance, the price of the peltry of 

mee ples ES Series : 
our various “vermin” soars to still dizzier heights. 2099 


26. Meleagris gallopavo subsp. WiLp TURKEY. 

Faintly amusing efforts have been made to introduce a wild strain of this noble bird to 
various brands of our uncultivated hospitality; but we predict that the Wild Turkey of romance 
will never compete in interest and dependability with the common or Thanksgiving variety, in 
California. 

27. Buteo cooperi Cassin. CooPEeR’s HEN-HAWK. 

This bird of mystery, described by Cassin (Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1856, p. 253) from 
a specimen shot by J. G. Cooper near Mountain View, Santa Clara County, in November, 1855, 
still remains unique and unresolved. The specimen still exists (U. S. Nat. Mus., No. 8525). 
It does not seem to be a hybrid; it follows no known laws of polychromatism, or color ‘‘phases’’;— 
it may, indeed, have been the very last of some tribe of feathered Mohicans, cousins to the Redtail. 
28. Buteo solitarius Cassin. HaAwatiAn Buzzarp. 

Originally described by Ridgway (Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1870, p. 149) as Onychotes 
grubert, from a specimen labelled ‘‘California.”’ ‘‘Gruber’s Hawk”’ remained unique until Ridgway 
himself discovered its identity with the Hawaiian Onychotes (Buteo) solitarius, and so made it appear 
probable that his type specimen of gruberi had really come from Hawaii via San Francisco. 

29. Branta ruficollis (Pallas). RED-NECKED GOOSE. 

Normal Range: Northern Siberia south to the Caspian Sea and Turkestan. The specimen 
upon which this hypothetical record is based was bought in the San Francisco market by Lyman 
Belding and by him presented to Walter Bryant, then in charge of the California Academy of 
Sciences. It had every appearance of having been taken in the wild, and it was ‘‘full’’ of No. 6 
shot. The specimen was preserved for years in the Cal. Acad. Sci. collections, but was, of course, 
destroyed in 1906. Mr. A. W. Anthony, who authorizes this statement, saw the specimen in 
question in 1897, and Walter Bryant detailed to him, in person, the circumstances of the bird’s 
capture. Anthony’s impression was that it had been taken in the fall, some two or three years 
previous, and that it was either in juvenile or in winter plumage. 

30. Phalacrocorax auritus cincinatus (Brandt). WHITE-CRESTED CORMORANT. 

The Shags of the North Pacific are known to retire down the coast in winter. Kobbe’s 
surmise (Bailey’s Handbook of Birds, 1902, xlix.) that the White-crest is the bird of the San Fran- 
cisco Bay region in winter may be correct, but the point has never been settled by measurements. 
31. Thalassogeron culminatus (Gould). YELLOW-NOSED ALBATROSS. 

Normal Range: The southern oceans. Claim based on a skull ‘‘found on the outer beach 
near Golden Gate’’ at some time prior to 1868, and believed by J. G. Cooper to belong to this 
species. The specimen was preserved in the California Academy of Science, but was probably 
destroyed in the conflagration of 1906. 

2. Macronectes giganteus (Gmelin). GIANT FULMAR. 

Normal Range: Waters of the southern hemisphere. Authority: Cooper, Amer. Nat. 
iv., 1871, p. 759, claims that this species ‘‘could often be seen’’ in the summer of 1861 about the 
whale-fishing in Monterey Bay. No succeeding confirmation. Opinion.—In spite of its very 
unusual character, I see no ground for discrediting Cooper’s statement. Standing, however, 
as a record of sixty years ago, it may respectfully be referred to the Department of Ornithological 
Archaeology. 
33. Priocella glacialoides (Smith). SLENDER-BILLED FULMAR. 

To the same also must be referred this record of a skeleton found by Dr. J. G. Cooper on the 
beach at Santa Catalina Island in June, 1863 (B. B. & R., Water Birds of N. Amer., 11, 1884, 
p. 374) and referred by him to this species. In Dr. Cooper's probity we have the most implicit 
confidence. Of his ability to reach accurate taxonomic conclusions with the critical apparatus 
then available, we cherish the friendliest doubts. 

He served his day; he recorded his convictions—and passed. In spite of the printed word, 
the commonplaces of his experience are buried in a practical oblivion, and the very high-lights of 
it are obscured. Another generation demands reappraisal, restatement—re-proving perhaps. 
And it rejoices—for an hour. In like manner, still another generation shall exclaim, ‘‘Why, 
it was not thus! It could not have been so! Behold! do we not know what 7s’’—Patiently, little 
brothers! It was, and is, and ever shall be—never the same. 


2I00 


io) 


a3 


Index 


Index 


Reference is made to scientific and common names found in article headings only. 


An asterisk (*) marks names used in A. O. U. Check-list, 3rd Edition, but since superseded. 


A 


Abert’s Towhee, 397. 
Acadian Owl, 1099. 
Acanthis linaria linaria, 178. 
Accipiter coopert cooper, 1663. 
mexicanus, 1664. 
velox, 1657. 
Actitis macularia, 1278. 
ZEchmophorus occidentalis, 2039. 
* £eialitis nivosa, 1314. 
* semipalmata, 1310. 
* Aeronautes melanoleucus, 960. 
saxatalis, 960. 


Agelaius pheniceus aciculatus, 117. 


californicus, 118. 
caurinus, 116. 
neutralis, 114. 
nevadensts, 116. 
sonoriensis, 116. 
tricolor, 104. 
Aimophila ruficeps ruficeps, 268. 
Aix sponsa, 1796. 
Ajaja ajaja, 1932. 
Alameda Song Sparrow, 349. 
Alaska Hermit Thrush, 739. 
Longspur, 228. 
Myrtle Warbler, 469. 
Pileolated Warbler, 513. 
Water-Thrush, 503. 
Yellow Warbler, 462. 
Alaskan Kinglet, 802. 
Albatross, Black-footed, 1984. 
Short-tailed, 1989. 
Alberta Fox Sparrow, 367. 
Aleutian Auklet, 1467. 
Aleutian Savanna Sparrow, 246. 
Alexander Hummer, 954. 
Allen’s Hummer, 924. 
Alma’s Thrush, 756. 
* Aluco pratincola, 1070. 
American Anhinga, 1935. 
Avocet, II19I. 
Barn Swallow, 536. 


American Barn Owl, 1070. 

Bittern, 1916. 

Black Scoter, 1830. 

Coot, 1557. 

Crossbill, 146. 

Crow, 16. 

Darter, 1935. 

Dipper, 731. 

Eared Grebe, 2051. 

Egret, 1896. 

Golden-eye, 1814. 

Golden Plover, 1296. 

Goshawk, 1668. 

Green-winged Teal, 1767. 

Kestrel, 1636. 

Lanner Falcon, 1608. 

Magpie, 31. 

Merganser, 1743. 

Merlin, 1634. 

Mew Gull, 1418. 

Peregrine Falcon, 1624. 

Pipit, 831. 

Pochard, 1800. 

Raven, I. 

Redstart, 518. 

Robin, 758. 

Rough-leg, 1696. 

Rough-legged Hawk, 1696. 

Scoter, 1830. 

Siskin, 181. 

Snipe, 1215. 

Titlark, 831. 

Velvet Scoter, 1831. 

Water Ouzel, 731. 

Whimbrel, 1285. 

Widgeon, 1761. 

Wood Stork, 1922. 
Ammodramus savannarum bimacu- 

latus, 263. 

Ammospiza caudacuta nelsoni, 266. 
Amphispiza belli, 277. 

bilineata deserticola, 273. 

nevadensis nevadensis, 281. 

canescens, 282. 


Anas boschas, 1751. 
platyrhynchos, 1751. 
rubripes, 1757. 

Ancient Murrelet, 1481. 

Anhinga, American, 1935. 

Anhinga anhinga, 1935. 

Anna’s Hummer, 935. 

Anser albifrons albifrons, 1853. 

gambeli, 1856. 

Anthony’s Brown Towhee, 403. 
Green Heron, 1907. 
Vireo, 576. 


*Anthus rubescens, 831. 


Spinoletta rubescens, 831. 
A phelocoma californica californica, 44. 
immanis, 46. 
oocleptica, 46. 
insularis, 58. 
woodhousei, 63. 
Aphriza virgata, 1333- 
Aquila chrysaetos, 1701. 


*Archibuteo ferrugineus, 1698. 
* 


lagopus sancti-johannis, 1696. 
Archilochus alexandri, 954. 
Arctic Bluebird, 781. 
Jaeger, 1360. 
Tern, 1450. 
Three-toed Woodpecker, 1006. 
Ardea herodias hyperonca, 1888. 
treganzat, 1889. 
Arenaria interpres interpres, 1337- 
morinella, 1338. 
melanoce phala, 1342. 
Arizona Blue Grosbeak, 413. 
Crested Flycatcher, 86r. 
Elf Owl, 1133- 
Hooded Oriole, 89. 
Least Vireo, 586. 
Screech Owl, 1104. 
Spotted Towhee, 390. 
Arkansas Flycatcher, 851. 
Arkansas Kingbird, 851. 
Ash-throated Flycatcher, 862. 
Ashy Kinglet, 801. 


2703 


Ashy Petrel, 2024. 
Asio flammeus, 1087. 
otus wilsonianus, 1080. 
= wilsonianus, 1080. 
Astragalinus lawrencet, 197. 


psaltria hesperophilus, 19t. 


tristis salicamans, 187. 


*Astur atricapillus atricapillus, 1668. 


eS striatulus, 1668. 
gentilis atricapillus, 1668. 
striatulus, 1668. 

Asyndesmus lewisi, 1030. 

Auburn Canyon Wren, 691. 

Audubon’s Caracara, 1643. 

Audubon’s Warbler, 472. 

Auk, Cassin’s, 1467. 

Parrot, 1474. 

Auklet, Aleutian, 1467. 
Cassin’s, 1467. 
Horn-billed, 1518. 
Paroquet, 1474. 
Pug-nosed, 1474. 

Auriparus flaviceps flaviceps, 623. 

Avocet, American, II19I. 


B 


Beolophus inornatus griseus, 602. 
inornatus, 601. 
murinus, 602. 
Baird’s Cormorant, 1956. 
Sandpiper, 1235. 
Wren, 667. 


Balanosphyra formicivorus batirdi, 


1023. 


Bald Eagle, Southern, 1711. 

Baldpate, 1761. 

Band-tailed Buzzard, 1687. 

Band-tailed Pigeon, 1153. 

Bank Swallow, 533. 

Barlow’s Chickadee, 620. 

Barn Owl, American, 1070. 

Barn Swallow, 536. 

Barrow’s Golden-eye, 1817. 

Bartramia longicauda, 1277. 

Bartramian Sandpiper, 1277. 

Bartramian, The, 1277. 

Batchelder’s Woodpecker, 992. 

Bay-winged Bunting, 241. 

Beal’s Petrel, 2013. 

Beautiful Bunting, 412. 

Bee Martin, 849. 

Beetle-head, 1290. 

Belding’s Marsh Sparrow, 256. 

Belding’s Plover, 1328. 

Bell’s Sparrow, 277. 

Belted Kingfisher, Western, 1049. 

Bendire’s Crossbill, 147. 
Screech Owl, 1103. 
Thrasher, 697. 

Bewick’s Wren, 667. 


2104 


Bicolored Redwing, 118. 
Billy Owl, 1120. 

Bird Hawk, 1657. 

Bird of Washington, 1711. 
Bittern, American, 1916. 

Least, 1920. 
Black-and-White Creeper, 437. 
Black-and-White Warbler, 437. 
Black-backed Three-toed Wood- 

pecker, 1006. 
Black-bellied Plover, 1290. 
Black-bellied Tree Duck, 1875. 
Black-billed Magpie, 31. 
Blackbird, California Brewer, 84. 
Brewer’s, 83. 
Marsh, 114. 


Red-and-white-shouldered, 104. 


Red-shouldered, 114. 
Red-winged, 114. 
Rusty, 81. 
Skunk, 136. 
Tricolored, 104. 
Tricolored Red-winged, 104. 
Yellow-headed, 124. 
Black Brant, 1869. 
Black-breasted Woodpecker, 1016. 
Black-chinned Hummer, 954. 
ack-chinned Sparrow, 309. 
lack Coot, 1830. 
lack-crowned Night Heron, 1910. 
ack Curlew, 1924. 
lack Darter, 1935. 
ack Duck, 1757, 1831. 
ack Eagle, 1711. 
ack-footed Albatross, 1984. 
k Fork-tailed Petrel, 2027. 
ack-head, 1807. 
ack-headed Grosbeak, 419. 


Rocky Mountain, 419. 
k-headed Turnstone, 1342. 
ack Mallard, 1757. 
ack Merlin, 1633. 
ack-necked Stilt, 1204. 

Black Oyster-catcher, 1346. 

Black Petrel, 2027. 

Black Phoebe, 868. 

Black Pigeon-Hawk, 1633. 

Black Rail, California, 1549. 
Farallon, 1549. 

Little, 1549. 

Pacific, 1549. 

ack-shouldered Kite, 1648. 
ack-tailed Gnat-catcher, 819. 
ack-tailed Shearwater, 2009. 
ack Tern, 1460. 

ack-throated Blue Warbler, 468. 
Gray Warbler, 479. 
Green Warbler, 488. 
Black Turnstone, 1342. 


Baww ecmesmermesmermermermeriesmer Merny) 
> 
ig) ie) 


DWWWwW 


ack-headed Grosbeak, Pacific, 420. 


Black-vented Shearwater, 1998. 
Black Woodpecker, 1030. 
Blanding’s Finch, 386. 
Blasipus heermanni, 1428. 
Bleached Horned Lark, 842. 
Blind Rail, 2057. 
Blue-bill, 1807, 1810, 1840. 
Bluebird, Arctic, 781. 
California, 774. 
Mexican, 774. 
Mountain, 781. 
Townsend’s, 774. 
Western, 774: 
ue Crane, 1888. 
lue Darter, 1668. 
lue-fronted Jay, 65. 
ue Goose, 1849. 
lue Grosbeak, 413. 
ue Grosbeak, Arizona, 413. 
California, 413. 
Western, 413. 
ue Grouse, 1589. 
ue Gull, 1366. 
ue Jay, 65. 
ue-winged Teal, 1769. 
Boatswain, 1360. 
Bobolink, 136. 
Bog-bull, 1916. . 
Bohemian Waxwing, 546. 
Bombycilla cedrorum, 550. 
garrula, 546. 
pallidiceps, 546. 
Bonaparte’s Gull, 1422. 
Rosy Gull, 1422. 
Bonasa umbellus sabini, 1596. 
Boreal Flicker, 1037. 
Bo’s’n-bird, 1933. 
Botaurus lentiginosus, 1916. 
*Brachyramphus hypoleuca, 1484. 


DWBWBWWwwW 


DwWWww 


* 


Brachyramphus marmoratus, 1484. 


Brandt’s Cormorant, 1948. 
Branta bernicla bernicla, 1869. 
nigricans, 1869. 
canadensis canadensis, 1858. 
hutchinsi, 1863. 
minima, 1867. 
nigricans, 1869. 
Brant-bird. 1337. 
Brant, 1869. 
Brant, Black, 1869. 
Gray, 1853. 
Speckled, 1853. 
White, 1845. 
Brant Snipe, 1337. 
Brewer’s Blackbird, 83. 
California, 84. 
Brewer’s Sparrow, 312. 
Brewster’s Flycatcher, 884. 
Brewster’s Poorwill, 1054. 
Bridge Pewee, 867. 


* 


p>? oa 


Broad-bill, 1778. 

Broad-tailed Hummer, 922. 

Brown Cormorant, 1948. 

Brown Crane, 1526. 

Brown Crane, Little, 1525. 

Mexican, 1526. 

Brown Creeper, 651. 

Brown Towhee, 401. 

Brown Towhee, Anthony’s, 403. 

California, 401. 
Northern, 403. 

Brown-headed Woodpecker, 1016. 

Brown Pelican, California, 1973. 

Brown’s Least Tern, 1453. 

Bryant’s Marsh Sparrow, 254. 

Bubo virginianus occidentalis, 1113. 

pacificus, 1112. 
pallescens, 1113. 
Saturatus, 1114. 

Buffle-head, 1819. 

Buffon’s Jaeger, 1360. 

Bull-bat, 1059, 1064. 

Bullfinch, Pine, 152. 

Bull-head, 1290, 1296. 

Bull-neck, 1840. 

Bullock’s Oriole, 97. 

Bunting, Bay-winged, 241. 
Beautiful, 412. 

Lark, 232. 

Lazuli, 409. 

Varied, 412. 

Western Varied, 412. 
Burgomaster, 1363, 1366. 
Burion, 212. 

Burrowing Owl, 1120. 

Bush Pheasant, 1596. 

Bush-Tit, 628. 

Bush-Tit, California, 629. 
Coast, 628. 

Interior, 629. 

Lead-colored, 636. 

Least, 628. 

Pacific, 628. 

Plumbeous, 636. 
Butcher-bird, 589. 

Buteo abbreviatus, 1687. 
borealis calurus, 1674. 
ferrugineus, 1698. 
lagopus sancti-johannis, 1696. 
lineatus elegans, 1683. 
swainsont, 1689. 

Butorides virescens anthonyi, 1907. 

Butter-ball, 1819. 

Buzzard, Band-tailed, 1687. 
Ferruginous, 1698. 
Rough-legged, 1696. 
Turkey, 1736. 


Cc 


Cabanis’s Woodpecker, 987. 
Cackling Goose, 1867. 
Cactus Woodpecker, 997. 
Cactus Wren, 662. 
Calamospiza melanocorys, 232. 
Calaveras Warbler, 451. 


Calcarius lapponicus alascensis, 228. 


ornatus, 230. 
Calico-back, 1337. 
Calico-bird, 1337. 

*Calidris leucophea, 1253. 
California Black Rail, 1549. 

Bluebird, 774. 

Blue Grosbeak, 414. 

Brewer Blackbird, 84. 

Brown Pelican, 1970. 

Brown Towhee, 4o1. 

Bush-Tit, 629. 

Chickadee, 620. 

Clapper Rail, 1530. 

Coast Screech Owl, 1103- 

Condor, 1717. 

Cormorant, 1937. 

Creeper, 651, 652. 

Crow, 16. 

Cuckoo, 1148. 

Egg-bird, 1494. 

Evening Grosbeak, 139. 

Gnome Owl, 1128. 

Goldfinch, 187, 191. 

Guillemot, 1494. 

Gull, 1398. 

Horned Lark, 837. 

Horned Owl, 1112. 

House Finch, 212. 

Jay, 44. 

Grinnell’s, 46. 
Swarth’s, 46. 

Least Vireo, 586. 

Leucosticte, 156. 

Linnet, 212. 

Magpie, 38. 

Marsh Wren, 657. 

Murre, 1494. 

Nuthatch, 646. 

Partridge, 1575. 

Pine Grosbeak, 152. 

Poorwill, 1054. 

Purple Finch, 208. 

Pygmy Owl, 1128. 

Quail, 1575. 

Sage Sparrow, 282. 

Shrike, 592. 

Snow-bird, 291. 

Squirrel Hawk, 1698. 

Thrasher, 698. 

Vulture, 1717. 

White Egret, 1896. 

White Heron, 1896. 


California Woodpecker, 1023. 
Yellow Warbler, 46r. 
Calliope Hummer, 915. 
Calypte anna, 935. 
coste, 946. 
Camp Robber, 70. 
Canada Goose, 1858. 
Canada Goose, Least, 1867. 
Canadian Crane, 1525. 
Canadian Nuthatch, 643. 
Canutus canutus, 1228. 
Canvas-back, 1803. 
Canyon Wren, 690. 
Canyon Wren, Auburn, 691. 
Dotted, 691. 
Nevada, 690. 
Capella gallinago delicata, 1215. 
Cape Fulmar, 1995. 
Cape Petrel, 1995. 
Cape Pigeon, 1995. 
Caracara, Audubon’s, 1643. 
Carolina Rail, 1540. 
Carolina Waxwing, 550. 
Carpodacus cassini, 201. 
mexicanus frontalis, 212. 
purpureus californicus, 208. 
Casmerodias egretta, 1896. 
Caspian Tern, 1435. 
Cassin’s Auk, 1467. 
Auklet, 1467. 
Kingbird, 858. 
Purple Finch, 2or. 
Solitary Vireo, 570. 
Vireo, 570. 
Catalina Island Quail, 1578. 
Catalina Island Wren, 668. 
Catbird, 712. 
Catharacta chilensis, 1353. 
Cathartes aura septentrionalis, 1736. 
Cather pes mexicanus conspersus, 690. 
punctulatus, 691. 
Catoptrophorus semipalmatus inorna- 
tus, 1271. 
Cat Owl, 1112. 
Cayenne Tern, 1439. 
Cedar-bird, 550. 
Cedar Waxwing, 550. 
Centrocercus urophasianus, 1602. 
Centurus uropygialis uropygialis, 
1035- 
Cepphus columba, 1475. 
Cerchnets sparverius sparverius, 1636. 
Cerorhinca monocerata, 1518. 
Certhia familiaris zelotes, 651. 
occidentalis, 652. 


*Ceryle alcyon, 1049. 


Chemepelia passerina pallescens, 
1168. 
Chetura vauxt, 982. 


2105 


Chamea fasciata fasciata, 822. 
henshawi, 823. 
phea, 823. 
Chaparral Cock, 1137. 
*Charadius dominicus dominicus, 
1296. 
nivosus nivosus, 1314. 
semipalmatus, 1310. 

Charitonetia albeola, 1819. 

Chat, Long-tailed, 510. 

Western, 510. 

Chaulelasmus streperus, 1758. 

Checkered Petrel, 1995. 

Checkered Snipe, 1337. 

Chen c@rulescens, 1849. 
hyperboreus hyperboreus, 1845. 
rossi, 1850. 

Cherry-bird, 550. 

Chestnut-backed Chickadee, 618. 

Chestnut-collared Longspur, 230. 

Chestnut-sided ‘Chickadee, 618. 

Chestnut-sided Warbler, 495. 

Chickadee, Bailey’s, 611. 
Barlow’s, 620. 

California, 620. 

Chestnut-backed, 618. 

Chestnut-sided, 618. 

Inyo Mountain, 612. 

Marin, 620. 

Mountain, 611. 

Mrs. Bailey’s Mountain, 611. 

Oregon, 607. 

Santa Cruz, 620. 

Short-tailed, 611. 

Western Black-capped, 607. 
Chicken Hawk, 1663, 1674, 1683. 
Chilean Skua, 1353. 

China Goose, 1850. 

Chinese Pheasant, 1567. 

Chipping Sparrow, Western, 302. 

Chippy, 302. 


Chlidonias nigra surinamensis, 1460. 


Chlorenas fasciata fasciata, 1153. 


Chondestes grammacus strigatus, 234. 
Chordeiles acutipennis texensis, 1064. 


minor hesperis, 1059. 
bs virginianus hesperis, 1059. 
Chroicocephalus franklini, 1420. 
philadelphia, 1422. 
Cinclus mexicanus unicolor, 731. 
Cinnamon Teal, 1772. 
Circus cyaneus hudsonius, 1652. 
ts hudsontus, 1652. 
Clam Digger, 1831. 
*Clangula hyemalis, 1822. 
ba tslandica, 1817. 
Clapper Rail, California, 1530. 
Yuma, 1536. 
Clark’s Crow, 23. 
Nutcracker, 23. 


2706 


Cliff Swallow, 523. 
Cloud Swift, 971. 
Coast Bush-Tit, 628. 
Jay, 66. 
Pygmy Owl, 1129. 
Wren-Tit, 823. 


Coccyzus americanus occidentalis, 


1148. 


Cock-of-the-Plains, 1602. 
Cock-of-the-Woods, 1020. 
*Colaptes auratus auratus, 1037. 
auratus borealis, 1037. 
cafer collaris, 1039. 
saluratior, 1040. 
chrysoides mearnsi, 1047. 
Colorado Turkey, 1922. 
*Columba fasciata fasciata, 1153. 
Columbian Horned Lark, 840. 
Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse, 
1599. 
Colymbus auritus, 2048. 
grisegena holbelli, 2047. 
~ holbelli, 2047. 
nigricollis californicus, 2051. 
Common Gull, 1366. 
Loon, 2030. 
Redpoll, 178. 
Sharp-tailed Grouse, 1599. 
Tern, 1448. 
Wild Goose, 1858. 
Condor, California, 1717. 
Cooper’s Hawk, 1663. 
Tanager, 429. 
Coot; American, 1557. 
Black, 1830. 
Ivory-billed, 1557. 
Sea, 1830, 1831. 
White-winged, 1831. 
Cormorant, Baird’s, 1956. 
Brandt’s, 1948. 
Brown, 1948. 
California, 1937: 
Farallon, 1937. 
Resplendent, 1956. 
Southern Violet-green, 1956. 
Western Double-crested; 1937. 
Correcamino, 1137. 
Corthylio calendula calendula, 801. 
cineraceus, SOI. 
grinnelli, 802. 
Corvus brachyrhynchos hesperis, 16. 
corax sinuatus, I. 
Costa’s Hummer, 946. 
Coturnicops noveboracensis, 1544. 
Coues’s Junco, 289. 
Petrel, 2024. 
Cowbird, Dwarf, 76. 
Nevada, 75. 
Crane, Brown, 1526. 
Canadian, 1525. 


Crane, Little Brown, 1525. 
Little Sandhill, 1525. 
Mexican Brown, 1526. 
Northern Brown, 1525. 
Southern Sandhill, 1526. 
“White,” 1896. 

Creciscus jamaicensis coturniculus, 

1549. 

Creeper, Black-and-white. 437. 
Brown, 651. 

California, 651, 652. 

Sierra, 651. 

Tawny, 652. : 
Crimson-billed Tern, 1450. 
Crissal Thrasher, 710. 

Crocethia alba, 1253. 

Cross-bill, American, 146. 
Bendire’s, 147. 

Red, 146. 

Sierra, 147. 

Crow, American, 16. 

Blue, 28. 

California, 16. 

Clark’s, 23. 

Common, 16. 

Gray, 23. 

Pine, 23. 

Western, 16. 

Crow-duck, 1557- 

Crown Sparrow, 331. 

Cry ptoglaux acadica, 1099. 

Cuckoo, California, 1148. 
Ground, 1137. 

Western Yellow-billed, 1148. 
Cuckoo Owl, 1120. 

Curlew, Black, 1924. 

Hen, 1282. 

Hudsonian, 1285. 

Jack, 1285. 

Long-billed, 1282. 

Spike-billed, 1258. 

Stone, 1271. 

Cyanocephalus cyanocephalus, 28. 

Cyanocitta stelleri carbonacea, 66. 

frontalis, 65. 
*Cypseloides niger borealis, 971. 


D 


Dabchick, 2057. 
*Dafila acuta, 1784. 

acuta tzitzthoa, 1784. 
Daggett’s Sapsucker, 1012. 
Damier, 1995. 
Daption capense, 1995- 
Dark-bodied Shearwater, 2001. 
Darter, American, 1935. 
Darter, Black, 1935. 
Dawson’s Leuco, 156. 
Dawson’s Rosy Finch, 156. 
Deer Hunter, 70. 


Dendragapus obscurus fuliginosus, 


1589. 


slerr@, 1590. 

Dendrocygna autumnalis, 1875. 

bicolor, 1876. 

Dendroica estiva sonorana, 460. 

brewstert, 461. 

rubiginosa, 462. 
audubont audubont, 472. 
cerulescens cerulescens, 468. 
coronata hoovert, 469. 

Dendroica, magnolia, 466. 
nigrescens, 479. 
occidentalis, 490. 
palmarum palmarum, 496. 
pensylvanica, 495. 
townsend1, 484. 
gotrens, 488. 

Denny Pheasant, 1567. 

Desert Bewick Wren, 667. 
Great Blue Heron, 1889. 
Horned Lark, 840. 
Horned Owl, 1113. 

Quail, 1586. 

Savanna Sparrow, 248. 
Sparrow, 273- 

Sparrow Hawk, 1636. 
Thrasher, 705. 
Towhee, 397. 

Wren, 667. 

Diomedza albatrus, 1989. 
nigripes, 1984. 

Dipper, 2057. 

Dipper, American, 731. 

Dirty Little Flycatcher, 886. 

Diver, Great Northern, 2030. 
Lawrence’s Black-throated, 

2034. 
Pacific, 2034. 
Red-throated, 2036. 

Dixon’s Scoter, 1831. 

Dolichonyx oryzivorus, 136. 

Domestic Sparrow, 223. 

Dotted Canyon Wren, 691. 

Dove, Carolina, 1159. 
Mexican Ground, 1168. 
Singing, 1165. 

Turtle, 1159. 
Western Mourning, 1159. 


Western White-winged, 1165. 


Wild, 1159. 
Dowitcher, Long-billed, 1221. 
Western, 1221. 
Downy Woodpecker, 992. 
Drummer, 1596. 
Dryobates nuttalli, 999. 
pubescens gairdneri, 993. 
homorus, 992. 
leucurus, 992. 


turati, 993. 


* 


Dryobates scalaris cactophilus, 997. 


villosus harrisi, 989. 
hyloscopus. 988. 
leucothorectis, 989. 
orius, 987. 

Duck, Black, 1757, 1831. 
Black-bellied Tree, 1875. 
Fish, 1831. 

Flocking, 1807. 

Fulvous Tree, 1876. 

Gray, 1758. 

Greater Scaup, 1807. 

Harlequin, 1825. 

Lesser Scaup, 1810. 

Long-tailed, 1822. 

Mountain, 1825. 

Painted, 1825. 

Raft, 1807. 

Rock, 1825. 

Ruddy, 1840. 

Sea, 1831. 

Spatter, 1840. 

Spirit, 1819. 

Spoon-bill, 1778. 

Squaw, 1831, 1835. 

Summer, 1796. 

Surf, 1835. 

Wood, 1796. 

Duck Hawk, 1624. 

Dumetella carolinensis, 712. 

Dunlin, American, 1243. 

Dusky Grouse, 1589. 
Horned Lark, 840. 
Horned Owl, 1114. 
Poorwill, 1054. 

Vireo, 576. 

Warbler, 447. 

Dwarf Cowbird, 76. 
Hermit Thrush, 740. 
Savanna Sparrow, 249. 
Screech Owl, rrog. 

Dwight’s Western Gull, 1380. 


E 


Eagle, Black, 1711. 

Golden, 1701. 

Gray, I71I. 

Southern Bald, 1711. 

White-headed Sea, 1711. 
Eared Grebe, American, 2051. 
Eastern Fox Sparrow, 365. 

Kingbird, 849. 

Phoebe, 867. 

Robin, 758. 

Savanna Sparrow, 247. 
Egret, American, 1896. i 

California White, 1896. 

Great White, 1896. 

Lesser, Igor. 

Little White, rgor. 


Egret, Snowy, Igol. 
Western, 1896. 
White, 1896. 
*Egretta candidissima candidissima, 
Igol. 
thula thula, 1901. 
*Elanus leucurus, 1648. 
majusculus, 1648. 
Elegant Tern, 1441. 
Elf Owl, Arizona, 1133. 
Emperor Goose, 1872. 
Empidonax difficilis difficilis, 878. 
griseus, 896. 
hammondi, 886. 
trailli brewstert, 884. 
wright, 889. 
Endomychura hypoleuca, 1489. 
“English”, Snipe, 1215. 
English Sparrow, 223. 
Ereunetes maurt, 1246. 
Erismatura jamatcensis, 1840. 
Euphagus carolinus, 81. 
cyanocephalus cyanocephalus, 83. 
minusculus, 84. 
European Teal, 1766. 
European Widgeon, 1761. 
Evening Grosbeak, California, 139. 


F 


Falco columbarius columbarius, 1630. 
richardsont, 1634. 
suckley1, 1633. 
mexicanus.. 1608. 
peregrinus anatum, 1624. 
Sparverius sparverius, 539- 
Falcon, American, 1624. 
American Lanner, 1608. 
Great-footed, 1624. 
Mexican, 1608. 
Peregrine, 1624. 
Prairie, 1608. 
Rusty-crowned, 1636. 
Farallon Bird, 1494. 
Black Rail, 1549. 
Cormorant, 1937- 
Rail, 1549. 
Ferruginous Rough-leg, 1698. 
Ferruginous Rough-legged Buzzard, 
1698. 
Field Lark, 129. 
Field Plover, 1277, 1296. 
Finch, Blanding’s, 386. 
California House, 212. 
California Purple, 208. 
Cassin’s Purple, 201. 
Crimson-fronted, 212. 
Dawson’s Rosy, 156. 
Green-tailed, 386. 
Lazuli, 409. 
Miller’s Grass, 386. 


2107 


Finch, Pine, 181. 

Sierra Nevada Rosy, 156. 
Western Grass, 241. 
Western Lark, 234. 

Fish Duck, 1743, 1831. 

Flamingo, 1932. 

Flammulated Screech Owl, 1109. 

Flesh-footed Shearwater, 2005. 

Flicker, 1037. 

Flicker, Boreal, 1037. 
Mearns’s Gilded, 1047. 
Northern, 1037. 
Northern Yellow-shafted, 

1037. 
Northwestern, 1040. 
Red-shafted, 1039. 
Yellow-shafted, 1037. 

Flocking Duck, 1807. 

Florida Gallinule, 1554. 

Flycatcher, Arizona Crested, 861. 
Arkansas, 851. 
Ash-throated, 862. 
Brewster’s, 884. 

Dirty Little, 886. 
Gray, 897. 
Hammond’s, 886. 
Little, 884. 

Little Gray, 889. 
Little Western, 884. 
Olive-sided, gor. 
Pewit, 867. 
Scissor-tailed, 847. 
Townsend’s, 785. 
Tyrant, 849. 
Vermilion, 911. 
Western, 878. 
Western Yellow-bellied, 878. 
Wright’s, 889. 

Fly-up-the-creek, 1907. 

Forbush’s Sparrow, 360. 

Fork-tailed Gull, 1433. 
Petrel, 2010. 

Swallow, 536. 

Forster’s Tern, 1443. 

Fox-colored Sparrow, 365. 

Fox Sparrow, 365. 

Fox Sparrow, Alberta, 367. 
Eastern, 365. 

Kadiak, 367. 

Mono, 379. 
Slate-colored, 375. 
Shumagin, 367. 

Sooty, 369. 
Stephens’s, 384. 
Thick-billed, 378. 
Townsend’s, 368. 
Valdez, 368. 

Warner Mountains, 378. 
White Mountains, 379. 
Yakutat, 368. 


2108 


Fox Sparrow, Yolla Bolly, 378. 
Yosemite, 379. 
Franklin’s Gull, 1420. 
Fratercula corniculata, 1516. 
Frazar’s Oyster-catcher, 1345. 
*Fregata aquila, 1982. 
minor palmerstont, 1982. 
Frigate-bird, 1982. 
Frosted Poorwill, 1054. 
Fulica americana, 1557. 
Fulmar, 1992. 
Fulmar, Cape, 1995. 
Pacific, 1992. 
Rodger’s, 1994. 
Fulmarus glacialis glupischa, 1992. 
rodgersi, 1994. 
rodgersi, 1994. 
Fulvous Tree Duck, 1876. 


G 


* 


Gadwall, 1758. 

Gairdner’s Woodpecker, 993. 
*Gallinago delicata, 1215. 
Gallinula galeata, 1554. 
Gallinule, American, 1554. 

Florida, 1554. 
Gambel’s Quail, 1586. 
Sparrow, 326, 331. 
Garrot, 1814. 
Garrot, Rocky Mountain, 1817. 
Gavia arctica pacifica, 2034. 
immer, 2030. 
pacifica, 2034. 
stellata, 2036. 
Geococcyx californianus, 1137. 
Geothlypis trichas occidentalis, 504. 
scirpicola, 505. 
sinuosa, 506. 
Gila Woodpecker, 1035. 
Gilded Flicker, Mearns’s, 1047. 

Glaucidium gnoma californicum, 

1128. 
grinnelli, 1129. 
pinicola, 1130. 


* 


Glauctonetta clangula americana 1814. 


islandica, 1817. 
Glaucous Gull, 1363. 
Glaucous-winged Gull, 1366. 
Glupisch, 1992. 

Gnatcatcher, Black-tailed, 819. 
Blue-gray, 809. 
Plumbeous, 815. 

Western, 809. 

Gnome Owl, California, 1128. 

Godwit, Marbled, 1258. 

Golden-crowned Accentor, 501. 
Kinglet, Western, 796. 
Sparrow, 317. 

Thrush, sor. 

Golden Eagle, 1701. 


Golden-eye, 1814. 
Golden-eye, American, 1814. 

Barrow’s, 1817. 

Golden Plover, American, 1296. 
Golden Pileolated Warbler, 514. 
Golden Warbler, 514. 

Goldfinch, California, 187, 191. 

Green-backed, 191. 

Lawrence’s, 197. 

Willow, 187. 

Gooney, 1984. 
Goosander, 1743. 
Goose, Blue, 1849. 

Cackling, 1867. 

Canada, 1858. 

China, 1850. 

Common Wild, 1858. 

Emperor, 1872. 

Hutchins’s, 1863. 

Lesser Snow, 1845. 

Ross’s Snow, 1850. 

Tule, 1856. 

White-fronted, 1853. 

Wild, 1858. 

Goshawk, 1668. 
Goshawk, American, 1668. 

Western, 1668. 

Grackle, Rusty, 81. 
Grasshopper Sparrow, Western, 263. 
Gray Brant, 1853, 1867. 

Eagle, 1711. 

Flycatcher, 896. 

Fork-tailed Petrel, 2010. 

Jay, 72. 

Titmouse, 601. 

Vireo, 583. 

Gray-headed Junco, 299. 
Great Basin Heron, 1889. 
Great Basin Horned Lark, 840. 
Great Blue Heron, 1888. 
Great Blue Heron, California, 1888. 
Desert, 1889. 
Pallid, 1889. 
Western, 1889. 
Great Gray Owl, 1096. 
Great Northern Diver, 2030. 
Great Northern Shrike, 589. 
Great White Egret, 1896. 
Greater Scaup, 1807. 

Scaup Duck, 1807. 

Waxwing, 546. 

Yellowlegs, 1263. 

Grebe, American Eared, 2051. 

Holbeell’s, 2047. 

Horned, 2048. 

Pied-billed, 2057. 

Western, 2039. 
Green-backed Goldfinch, 191. 
Green-backed Rufous Humming- 

bird, 924. 


* 


Green-tailed Finch, 386. 
Green-tailed Towhee, 3£6. 
Green-head, 1751. 
Green Heron, Anthony’s, 1907. 
Green-wing, 1767. 
Green-winged Teal, 1767. 
Grinnell’s California Jay, 46. 
Hermit Thrush, 748. 
Kinglet, 802. 
Water-Thrush, 503. 
Woodpecker, 1004. 
Grosbeak, Arizona Blue, 413. 
Black-headed, 419. 
Blue, 413. 
California Blue, 414. 
California Evening, 139. 
California Pine, 152. 
Pacific Black-headed, 420. 


Rocky Mountain Black-headed, 
419. 


Rose-breasted, 417. 

Western Blue, 413. 
Ground Cuckoo, 1137. 
Ground Owl, 1120. 
Grouse, Blue, 1589. 


Columbian Sharp-tailed, 1599. 


Common Sharp-tailed, 1599. 
Dusky, 1589. 
Mountain, 1589. 
Oregon Ruffed, 1596. 
Pin-tailed, 1599. 
Sage, 1602. 
Sierra, 1590. 
Sooty, 1589. 
Guillemot, Pigeon, 1475. 


Grus canadensis canadensis, 1525. 


mexicanus, 1526. 
mexicana, 1526. 


Guillemot, Pigeon, 1475. 


Gutraca cerulea lazula, 413. 
salicarius, 414. 
Gull, Blue, 1366. 
Bonaparte’s, 1422. 
Bonaparte’s Rosy, 1422. 
California, 1398. 
Common, 1366. 
Dwight’s Western, 1380. 
Fork-tailed, 1433. 
Franklin’s, 1420. 
Glaucous, 1363. 
Glaucous-winged, 1366. 
Harbor, 1366. 
Heermann’s, 1428. 
Herring, 1394. 
Hyperion, 1380. 
Iceland, 1365. 
Kittiwake, 1361. 
Point Barrow, 1363. 
Ring-billed, 1413. 


Gull, Sabine’s, 1433. 
Short-billed, 1418. 
Western, 1376. 

Western Herring, 1376. 
White-headed, 1428. 

Gull-chaser, 1360. 

Gull-hunter, 1355, 1357. 

Gymnogyps californianus, 1717. 


H 


Hematopus bachmani, 1346. 
frazart, 1345. 
palliatus frazari, 1345. 

Hair-bird, 302. 

Hairy Woodpecker, 987. 


* 


Haligetus leucocephalus leucoce pha- 
lus, 1711. 


Hammond’s Flycatcher, 886. 
Harbor Gull, 1366. 

*Harelda hyemalis, 1822. 
Harlequin Duck, 1825. 
Harris’s Hawk, 1672. 

Sparrow, 315. 

Woodpecker, 989. 
Hawk, Bird, 1657. 

Black Pigeon, 1633. 

Blue Hen, 1668. 

California Squirrel, 1698. 

Chicken, 1663, 1674. 

Cooper’s, 1663. 

Desert Sparrow, 1636. 

Duck, 1624. 

Fish, 1644. 

Goose, 1668. 

Harris’s, 1672. 

Hen, 1674, 1683. 

Marsh, 1652. 

Mexican Cooper, 1664. 

Pigeon, 1630. 

Red-bellied, 1683. 

Red-breasted, 1683. 

Richardson’s Pigeon, 1634. 

Sea, 1353. 

Sharp-shinned, 1657. 

Sparrow, 1636. 

Swainson’s, 1689. 


Western Red-shouldered, 1683. 


Western Red-tailed, 1674. 
Zone-tailed, 1687. 
Hedymeles ludovicianus, 417- 


melanocephalus capitalis, 420. 


melanocephalus, 419. 


Heermann’s Gull, 1428. 
Heermann’s Song Sparrow, 354 


Heleodytes brunneicapillus couest. 


Hell-diver, 2057. 


, 662. 


*Helodromas solitarius cinnamomeus, 


Helvetian Plover, 1299. 
Hen Curlew, 1282. 


1268. 


Hermit Thrush, Alaska, 739. 
Cascade, 748. 
Dwarf, 740. 
Grinnell’s, 748. 
Monterey, 746. 
Pacific, 740. 
Sierra, 748. 
Western, 748. 
White Mountains, 748. 
Hermit Warbler, 490. 


*Herodias egretta, 1896. 


Heron, Anthony’s Green, 1907. 
Black-crowned Night, 1910. 
California Great Blue, 1888. 
California White, 1896. 
Desert Great Blue, 1889. 
Great Basin, 1889. 

Kelp, 1888. 
Louisiana, 1996 
Snowy, 1901. 
Treganza, 1889. 
Western Great Blue, 1889. 
White, 1896. 
Herring Gull, 1394. 


Hesperiphona vespertina californica, 


139. 


* Heteractitis incanus, 1274. 


Heteroscelus incanus, 1274. 
High-hole, 1037. 
High-holder, 1037, 1039. 


Himantopus mexicanus, 1204. 


*Hirundo erythrogastra, 536. 


rustica erythrogaster, 536. 
Histrionicus histrionicus, 1825. 
Holbeell’s Grebe, 2047. 

Honker, 1858. 

Hooded Merganser, 1749. 

Hooter, 1589. : 

Hoot Owl, 1090, 1112. 

Hoover’s Warbler, 469. 

Horn-billed Puffin, 1518. 

Horned Grebe, 2048. 

Horned Lark, Bleached, 842. 
California, 837. 
Columbian, 840. 
Desert, 840. 

Dusky, 840. 

Great Basin, 840. 

Island, 839. 

Merrill’s, 840. 

Mohave, 841. 

Pacific, 839. 

Plains, 840. 

Ruddy, 838. 

Sierra, 840. 

Streaked, 839. 

Yuma, 842. 
Horned Owl, 1112. 
Horned Owl, California, 

Desert, 1113. 


III2. 


2109 


Horned Owl, Dusky, 1114. 
Pacific, 1112. 
Pallid, 1113. 
Western, I113. 

Horned Puffin, 1516. 

Horsefoot Snipe, 1337. 

House Finch, California, 1337. 

House Sparrow, 223. 

House Wren, Pacific, 674. 

Western, 674.: 

Hudsonian Curlew, 1285. 

Hummer, Alexander, 954. 
Allen’s, 924. 

Anna’s, 935. 
Black-chinned, 954. 
Broad-tailed, 922. 
Calliope, 915. 
Costa’s, 946. 
Nootka, 930. 
Rufous, 930. 
Sponge, 954. 

Star, 915. 

Hummingbird, Calliope, 915. 
Green-backed Rufous, 924. 
Red-backed, 930. 

Rufous, 930. 

Hutchins’s Goose, 1863. 

Hutton’s Vireo, 576. 

Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis, 1906. 

*[Tydrochelidon nigra surinamensis, 
1460. 
Hydroprogne caspia, 1435. 
Hylocichla guttata guttata, 739. 
nanus, 740. 
poltonota, 748. 
sequotensis, 748. 
slevini, 746. 
ustulata ustulata, 750. 
swainsont, 756. 
Hyperion Gull, 1380. 


I 


Ibis, White-faced Glossy, 1924. 
Wood, 1922. 
Iceland Gull, 1365. 
Icteria virens longicauda, 510. 
Icterus bullockt, 97- 
cucullatus nelsoni, 89. 
parisorum, 93. 
Indian Hen, 1916. 
Intermediate-crowned Sparrow, 326. 
Intermediate Sparrow, 326. 
Intermediate Wren-Tit, 822. 
Inyo Mountain Chickadee, 612. 
Inyo Slender-billed Nuthatch, 642. 
Iridoprocne bicolor, 539. 
Island Horned Lark, 839. 
Island Shrike, 598. 


21I0 


Ivory-billed Coot, 1557. 
Ixobrychus exilis exilis, 1920. 
Ixoreus nevius neévins, 768. 


meruloides, 769. 
ow 


cack 12 85e 

Jack Snipe, 1215. 

Jaeger, Arctic, 1360. 
Buffon’s, 1360. 
Parasitic, 1357. 
Pomarine, 1355- 
Pomatorhine, 1355. 
Richardson’s, 1357. 

Jay, Blue, 65. 

Blue-fronted, 65. 
California, 44. 

Coast, 66. 

Coastal Gray, 70. 
Gray, 72. 

Grinnell’s, 66. 
Grinnell’s California, 46. 
Island, 58. 
Maximilian’s, 28. 
Mountain, 65. 

Oregon, 70. 

Oregon Gray, 70. 
Pinyon, 28. 

Pine, 28. 

Santa Cruz, 58. 
Steller’s, 65. 

Swarth’s California, 46. 
Woodhouse’s, 63. 

Jaybird, 65. 

Junco, Coues’s, 289. 
Eastern, 286. 
Gray-headed, 299. 
Oregon, 288. 
Point Pinos, 298. 
Rocky Mountain, 2 
Shufeldt’s, 289. 
Sierra, 291. |, 
Slate-colored, 286. 
Thurber’s, 291. 
Townsend’s, 288. 
Washington, 289. 


o 
<2) 


Junco caniceps, 299. 

hyemalis hyemalis, 286. 
oreganus, 288. 
pinosus, 298. 
thurbert, 291. 

oreganus couest, 289. 
oreganus, 288. 
pinosus, 298. 
thurbert, 291. 

pheonotus caniceps, 299. 


=) 


K 


Kadiak Dwarf Thrush, 739. 
Fox Sparrow, 367. 
Kaeding’s Leach Petrel, 2013. 
Petrel, 2013. 
White-rumped Petrel, 2013. 
Kelp Heron, 1888. 
Kern Redwing, 117. 
Kestrel, American, 1636. 
Killdeer, 1299. 
Killdee Plover, 1299. 
Kingbird, 849. 
Kingbird, Arkansas, 851. 
Cassin’s, 858. 
Eastern, 849. 
Western, 851. 
King Eider, 1828. 
Kingfisher, 1049. 
Kingfisher, Western Belted, 1o4y. 
Kinglet, Alaskan, 802. 
Ashy, 801. 
Grinnell’s, 802. 
Ruby-crowned, 8or. 
Sitka, 802. 
Sitka Ruby-crowned, 802. 
Western Golden-crowned, 796. 
Western Ruby-crowned, 8o1. 
Kirtland’s Owl, 1099. 
Kite, Black-shouldered, 1648. 
White-tailed, 1648. 
Knot, 1228. 
Krieker, 1231. 


L 


Lantus borealis invictus, 589. 
ludovicianus anthonyt, 598. 
excubitorides, 591. 
gambeli, 592. 
Lanivireo solitarius cassini, 570. 
plumbeus, 571. 
Large-billed Marsh Sparrow, 259. 
Lark, Bleached Horned, 842. 
Brown, 831. 
California Horned, 837. 
Columbian Horned, 840. 
Desert Horned, 840. 
Dusky Horned, 840. 
Field, 129. 
Great Basin Horned, 840. 
Horned, 837. 
Island Horned, 839. 
Merrill’s Horned, 840. 
Mohave Horned, 841. 
Old-field, 129. 
Pacific Horned, 839. 
Plains Horned, 840. 
Ruddy Horned, 838. 
Sierra Horned, 840. 
Streaked Horned, 839. 


* 


Lark, Yuma Horned, 842. 
Lark Bunting, 232. 
Finch, 234. 
Sparrow, Western, 234. 
Larus argentatus argentatus, 1394. 
brachyrhynchus, 1418. 
caltfornicus, 1398. 
canus brachyrhynchus, 1418. 
delawarensis, 1413. 
franklini, 1420. 
glaucescens, 1366. 
heermannt, 1428. 
hy perboreus, 1363. 
leucopterus, 1365. 
occidentalis livens, 1380. 
occidentalis, 1376. 
philadelphia, 1422. 
Laughing Goose, 1853. 
Lawrence’s Black-throated Diver, 
2034. 
Lawrence’s Goldfinch, 197. 
Lazuli Bunting, 409. 
Finch, 409. 
Leach’s Petrel, 2013. 
Lead-colored Bush-Tit, 636. 
Least Bittern, 1920. 
Bush-Tit, 628. 
Canada Goose, 1867. 
Sandpiper, 1238. 
Screech Owl, 110g. 
Tern, Brown’s, 1453. 
Vireo, Arizona, 586. 
California, 586. 
Leconte’s Thrasher, 705. 
Lesser Egret, 1901. 
Redpoll, 178. 
Scaup Duck, 18to. 
Snow Goose, 1845. 
Waxwing, 550. 
Yellowlegs, 1266. 
Leuco, Dawson’s, 156. 
Leucosticte, California, 156. 
Leucosticte tephrocotis dawsont, 156. 
Lewis’s Woodpecker, 1039. 
Light-footed Rail, 1533. 
Limnodromus griseus scolopaceus, 
1221. 
Limosa fedoa, 1258. 
Lincoln’s Song Sparrow, 359. 
Lincoln’s Sparrow, 359. 
Linnet, 178. 
Linnet, California, 212. 
Pine, 181. 
Lintie, 178. 
Little Blackhead, 1810. 
Black Rail, 1549. 
Brown Crane, 1525. 
Flycatcher, 884. 
Gray Flycatcher, 889. 
Sandhill Crane, 1525. 


Little Western Flycatcher, 884. 
White Egret, 1g9o1. 
Lobipes lobatus, 1178. 
Logcock, 1020. 
Long-billed Curlew, 1282. 
Long-billed Dowitcher, 1221. 
Long-eared Owl, 1080. 
Long-tailed Chat, 510. 
Duck, 1822. 
Jaeger, 1360. 
Loon, 2030. 
Loon, Common, 2030. 
Pacific, 2034. 
Red-throated, 2036. 
Sprat, 2036. 
Western, 2034. 
Longspur, Alaska, 228. 
Chestnut-collared, 230. 
Lophodytes cucullatus, 1749. 
Lophortyx californica californica, 
1575 
catalinensis, 1578. 
vallicola, 1576. 
gambeli, 1586. 
Lord and Lady, 1825. 
Louisiana Heron, 1906. 
Tanager, 431. 
Water-Thrush, 502. 
Loxia curvirostra. minor, 146. 
bendtrei, 147. 
Lucy’s Warbler, 455. 
Lunda cirrhata, 1507. 
Luteoline Warbler, 443. 
Lutescent Warbler, 443. 


M 
Macgillivray’s Warbler, 497. 


*Macrorhamphus griseus scolopaceus, 


1221. 
Magnolia Warbler, 466. 
Magpie, American, 31. 
Black-billed, 31. 
California, 38. 
Yellow-billed, 38. 
Mailliard’s Song Sparrow, 355. 
Mallard, 1751. 
Mallard, Black, 1757. 
Gray, 1751. 
Man-o’-war-bird, Pacific, 1982. 
Palmerston’s, 1982. 
Marbled Godwit, 1258. 
Marbled Murrelet, 1484. 
Mareca americana, 1761. 
penelope, 1761. 
Marila affinis, 1810. 
americana, 1800. 
collaris, 1812. 
marila, 1807. 
valisineria, 1803. 
Marin Chickadee, 620. 


Marin Song Sparrow, 348. 

Marlin, Brown, 1258. 
Common, 1258. 

Marlinspike, 1357, 1360, 1933- 

Marsh Blackbird, 114. 

Marsh Hawk, 1652. 

Marsh Sparrow, Belding’s, 256. 
Bryant’s, 254. 
Large-billed, 259. 

San Diego, 256. 

Marsh Wren, 657. 

Marsh Wren, California, 657. 

Interior, 659. 
Pacific, 657. 

San Joaquin, 659. 
Suisun, 659. 
Swarth’s, 659. 
Western, 657, 658. 

Martin, Sand, 533. 

Western, 520. 
McFarlane’s Screech Owl, trot. 
Meadowlark, Western, 129. 
Meadow-wink, 136. 

Mearns’s Gilded Flicker, 1047. 

Meat-bird, 70. 

Medlark, 129. 

Megaceryle alcyon caurina, 1049. 

*Melanerpes formicivorus batrdt, 1023. 

Melanitta fusca dixont, 1831. 
perspicillata, 1835. 
Melopelia asiatica mearnsi, 1165. 
Melospiza georgiana, 365. 
Melospiza lincolni gracilis, 369. 
lincolnt, 359- 
Es striata, 360. 
Melospiza melodia caurina, 343. 
clement@, 353- 
cleonensts, 347- 
coopert, 351. 
fallax, 356. 
fisherella, 356. 
gould2, 348. 
gramined, 353- 
heermannt, 354- 
maillairdi, 355- 
maxillaris, 349- 
merrilli, 356. 
a morphna, 344. 
phea, 347- 
pusillula, 349. 
rufina, 344. 
saltonts, 358- 
samuelis, 348. 
sante@cructs, 351- 
Mendocino Song Sparrow, 347- 
Merganser, American, 1743- 
Hooded, 1749. 
Red-breasted, 1747- 


Zlglel 


*Mergus americanus, 1743. 
merganser americanus, 1743. 
serrator, 1747. 

Merlin, American, 1634. 

Black, 1634. 

Richardson’s, 1634. 

Suckley’s, 1633. 

Merrill’s Horned Lark, 840. 
Merrill’s Song Sparrow, 356. 
Mew Gull, American, 1418. 

Mexican Bluebird, 774. 

Brown Crane, 1526. 

Cooper Hawk, 1664. 

Falcon, 1608. 

Ground Dove, 1168. 

Raven, I. 

Screech Owl, 1104. 
Micropallas whitneyi whitney, 1133. 
Migrating Thrush, 758. 

Mimus polyglottos leucopterus, 714. 
Mniotilta varia, 437. 
Mockingbird, Mountain, 727. 

Western, 714. 

Modesto Song Sparrow, 355. 
Modoc Song Sparrow, 356. 
Modoc Woodpecker, 987. 
Mohave Horned Lark, 841. 
Mollemawk, 1992. 
Molothrus ater artemisia, 75. 
obscurus, 76. 
Mongolian Pheasant, 1567. 
Monkey-faced Owl, 1070. 
Mono Fox Sparrow, 379. 
Monterey Hermit Thrush, 746. 
Mosquito Hawk, 1064. 

_ Mountain Bluebird, 781. 
Chickadee, 611. 

Duck, 1825. 

Grouse, 1589. 

Hermit, 748. 

Jay, 65. 

Mockingbird, 727. 

Plover, 1329. 

Quail, 1570. 

Northern, 1570. 
Southern, 1571. 

Robin, 768. 

Swift, 960. 

Towhee, 392. 

Mourning Dove, Western, 1159. 

Mrs. Bailey’s Mountain Chickadee, 
611. 

Mud-hen, 1530, 1554, 1557. 

Mud-hen, Red-billed, 1554. 

Mudlark, 129. 

Murre, California, 1494. 

Murrelet, Ancient, 1481. 

Marbled, 1484. 

Townsend’s, 1484. 

White-bellied, 1489. 


DUH 


Murrelet, Wrangel’s, 1484. 
Xantus’s, 1489. 
Muscivora forficata, 847. 
Mutton-bird, 2006. 
Myadestes townsendt, 785. 
Mycteria americana, 1922. 
Myiarchus cinerascens cinerascens, 
862. 
magister magister, 861. 
Myiochanes richardsoni richardsont, 
gos. 
Myrtle Warbler, Alaska, 469. 
Western, 469. 


N 


*Nannus hiemalis pacificus, 679. 
Nannus troglodytes pacificus, 679. 


Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow, 266. 


Nelson’s Sparrow, 266. 
Neoglottis flavipes, 1266. 
melanoleuca, 1263. 
Nephecetes niger borealis, 971. 
Nettion carolinense, 1767. 
crecca, 1766. 
Nevada Canyon Wren, 690. 
Cowbird, 75. 
Redwing, 116. 
Sage Sparrow, 281. 
Savanna Sparrow, 248. 
Spotted Towhee, 392. 
New Zealand Shearwater, 2008. 
Nicasio Wren, 670. 
Nighthawk, Pacific, 1059. 
Texas, 1064. 


Night Heron, Black-crowned, 1910. 


Night Squawk, 1910. 
Northern Black Cloud Swift, 971. 
Black Swift, 971. 
Brown Crane, 1525. 
Brown Towhee, 403. 
Flicker, 1037. 
Phalarope, 1178. 
Red-breasted Sapsucker, 1ort. 
Varied Thrush, 769. 
Violet-green Swallow, 543. 
Waxwing, 546. 
White-headed Woodpecker, 
1003. 
Wren-Tit, 823. 
Yellow-shafted Flicker, 1037. 
Northwest Robin, 760. 
Northwestern Flicker, 1o4o. 
Redwing, 116. 
Shrike, 589. 
Nootka Hummer, 930. 
Nucifraga columbiana, 23. 
Numenius americanus, 1282. 
hudsonicus, 1285. 
Nutcracker, Clark’s, 23. 


* 


Nuthatch, California, 646. 
Canadian, 643. 
Inyo Slender-billed, 642. 
Pygmy, 646. 
Red-bellied, 643. 
Red-breasted, 643. 
Slender-billed, 638. 
White-breasted, 638. 
White-naped, 647. 
Nuttallornis borealis, got. 
Nuttall’s Poorwill, 1053. 
Sparrow, 331. 
Woodpecker, 999. 
Nyctea nyctea, 1119. 
Nycticorax nycticorax n@vius, 1910. 


O 


Oberholseria chlorura, 386. 
Oceanites oceanicus, 2029. 
Oceanodroma furcata, 2010. 
kaedingi, 2013. 
leucorhoa beali, 2013. 
haedingi, 2013. 
socorroensis, 2021. 
homochroa, 2024. 
melania, 2027. 
socorroensis, 2021. 
*Oidemia americana, 1830. 
deglandi, 1831. 
nigra americana, 1830. 
re perspicillata, 1835. 
Old Squaw, 1822. 
Old-wife, 1822. 
Olive-backed Thrush, 756. 
Olive-sided Flycatcher, gor. 
Olor buccinator, 1886. 
columbianus, 1882. 
Oporornis tolmiet, 497. 
Orange-crowned Warbler, 442. 
Oregon Chickadee, 607. 
Gray Jay, 70. 
Jay, 70. 
Junco, 288. 
Robin, 768. 
Ruffed Grouse, 1596. 
Snow-bird, 288: 
Song Sparrow, 347- 
Towhee, 391. 
Vesper Sparrow, 245. 
Wren-Tit, 823. 
Oreortyx picta confinis, 1571. 
picta, 1570. 
Oreoscoptes montanus, 727. 
*Oreospiza chlorura, 386. 
Oriole, Arizona Hooded, 89. 
Bullock’s, 97. 
Palm, 89._ 
Scott’s, 93. 
Osprey, 1644. 


* 


* 


Otocoris alpestris actia, 837. 
ammophila, 841. 
insularis, 839. 
leucansiptila, 842. 
leucolema, 840. 
merrilli, 840. 
rubea, 838. 
sterr@, 840. 
Strigata, 839. 

Otus asic bendiret, 1103. 

gilmani, 1104. 
macfarlanet, 11OT. 
flammeolus, 1109. 

Ouzel, Water, 731. 

Oven-bird, sor. 

Owl, Acadian. 1099. 
American Barn, 1070. 
Arizona Elf, 1133. 
Arizona Screech, 1104. 
Bendire’s Screech, 1103. 
Billy, 1120. 

Burrowing, 1120. 

California Coast Screech, 1103. 

California Gnome, 1128. 

California Horned, 1112. 

California Pygmy, 1128. 

Cat, 1112. 

Coast Pygmy, 1129. 

Cuckoo, 1120. 

Desert Horned, 1113. 

Dusky Horned, 1114. 

Dwarf Screech Owl, 1109. 

Flammulated Screech, 1109. 

Great Gray, 1096. 

Ground, 1120. 

Hoot, 1090, 1112. 

Horned, 1112. 

Kirtland’s, 1099. 

Least Screech, 1109. 

Long-eared, 1080. 

McFarlane’s Screech, 1101. 

Mexican Screech, 1104. 

Monkey-faced, 1070. 

Pacific Horned, 1112. 

Pallid, 1113. 

Pygmy, 1128. 

Rocky Mountain Pygmy, 
1130. 

Sahuaro Screech, 1104. 

Saw-whet, 1099. 

Screech, 1101. 

Short-eared, 1087. 

Snake, 1120. 

Snowy, II119. 

Spotted, rogo. 

Tawny, 1070. 

Western Barred, 1090. 

Western Horned, 1113. 

White, 1070. 

Wood, togo. 


Owl, Xantus’s, 1090. 

Ox-bird, sor. 

Ox-eye, 1246, 1290. 

Oxyechus vociferus vociferus, 1299. 

Oyster-catcher, Black, 1346. 
Frazar’s, 1345. 


P 


Pacific Black-headed Grosbeak, 
420. 
Black Rail, 1549. 
Bush-Tit, 628. 
Diver, 2034. 
Fulmar, 1992. 
Hermit Thrush, 740. 
Horned Lark, 839. 
Horned Owl, 1112. 
House Wren, 674. 
Kittiwake, 1361. 
Loon, 2034. 
Man-o’-war-bird, 1982. 
Marsh Wren, 657. 
Nighthawk, 1059. 
Vesper Sparrow, 245. 
White-rumped Petrel, 2013. 
Pagolla wilsonia beldingi, 1328. 
Painted Duck, 1825. 
Painted Quail, 1570. 
Paisano, 1137. 
Pale-footed Shearwater, 2005. 
Pallid Great Blue Heron, 1889. 
Horned Owl, 1113. 
Wren-Tit, 823. 
Palmer’s Thrasher, 694. 
Palmerston’s Man-o’-war-bird, 
1982. 
Palm Oriole, 89. 
Palm Warbler, 496. 
Paloma cantador, 1165. 
Pandion haliaetus carolinensis, 


1644. 


Parabuteo unicinctus harrisi, 1672. 


Paradise Tern, 1450. 
Parasitic Jaeger, 1357. 
Parkman’s Wren, 674. 
Paroquet Auklet, 1474. 
Parrot Auk, 1474. 
Parrot, Sea, 1507. 
Partridge, 1596. 
Partridge, California, 1575. 
Mountain, 1571. 
Plumed, 1571. 
“Passenger Pigeon,” 1153. 
Passerculus beldingi, 256. 
rostratus guttatus, 260. 
rostratus, 259. 


sandwichensts alaudinus, 247. 


brookst, 249. 
bryanti, 254. 
nevadensis, 248. 


Passerculus sandwichensis 
sandwichensis, 245. 
Savanna, 247. 
Passer domesticus, 223. 
Passerella iliaca altivagans, 367- 
annectens, 368. 
brevicauda, 378. 
canescens, 379- 
fuliginosa, 369. 
fulva, 378. 
iliaca, 365. 
insularis, 367- 
maripos@, 379. 
megarhyncha, 378. 
monoensis, 379- 
schistacea, 375- 
sinuosa, 368. 
stephenst, 384. 
townsendi, 368. 
unalaschensts, 367- 
*Passerherbulus nelsoni nelsoni, 2665. 
Passerina amena, 409. 
versicolor pulchra, 412. 
Peabody Bird, 335. 
Pectoral Sandpiper, 1231. 
Pediecetes phasianellus colum)i- 
Peep, 1238, 1246. [anus, 1599- 
Peet-weet, 1278. 
*Pelcanus californizus, 1970. 
Pelecanus erythrorhynchos, 196t. 
occidentalis californicus, 1970. 
Pelican, California Brown, 1970. 
Rough-billed, 1961. 
White, 1961. 
Pelidna alpina sakhalina, 1243. 
Penthestes atricapillus occidentalis, 
607. 
gambeli abbreviatus, 611. 
baileye, 611. 
inyoensis, 612. 
rufescens barlowi, 620. 
neglecius, 620. 
rufescens, 618. 
Peregrine Falcon, 1624. 
Perisoreus obscurus griseus, 72. 
obscurus, 79. 
Petrel, Ashy, 2024. 
Beal’s, 2013. 
Black, 2027. 
Black Fork-tailed, 2027. 
Cape, 1995. 
Checkered, 1995. 
Coues’s, 2024. 
Fork-tailed, 2010. 
Gray Fork-tailed, 2o0r0. 
“Kaeding’s,” 2013. 
Leach’s, 2013. 
Pacific White-rumped, 2013. 
Pintado, 1995. 
Wilson’s, 2029: 


* 


Petrochelidon albifrons albifrons, 523. 
hypopolia, 523. 
lunifrons lunifrons, 523. 
Pewee, 867. 
Pewee, Bridge, 867. 
Richardson’s, 905. 
Say’s, 873. 
Short-legged, go5. 
Western Wood, 905. 
Pewit Flycatcher, 867. 
Phaeopus hudsonicus, 1285. 
Phaethon @thereus, 1933- 
Phainopepla, 554. 
Phainopepla nitens, 554. 
Phalacrocorax auritus albociliatus, 
1937- 
pelagicus resplendens, 1956. 
penicillatus, 1948. 
Phalenoptilus nuttalli californicus, 
1054. 
nitidus, 1054. 
nuttalli, 1053. 
Phalarope, Gray, 1171. 
Northern, 1178. 
Red, 1171. 
Red-necked, 1178. 
Wilson’s, 1184. 
Phalaropus fulicarius, 1171. 
Phaleris psittacula, 1474. 
Phasianus torquatus, 1567. 
Pheasant, 1596. 
Pheasant, Bush, 1596. 
Chinese, 1567. 
Denny, 1567. 
Mongolian, 1567. 
Ring-necked, 1567. 
Philacte canagica, 1872. 
Phleotomus pileatus pictnus, 1020. 
Phoebe, 867. 
Phoebe, Black, 868. 
Eastern, 867. 
Say’s, 873. 
Western, 873. 
Phoebe-bird, 867. 
Pica pica hudsonia, 31. 
nuttalli, 38. 
Picoides arcticus, 1006. 
Pied-billed Grebe, 2057. 
Pigeon, Band-tailed, 1153. 
“Passenger,” 1153. 
Sea, 1422, 1475. 
White-collared, 1153. 
Wild, 1153. 
Pigeon Guillemot, 1475. 
Pigeon Hawk, 1630. 
Pigeon Hawk, Black, 1633. 
Richardson’s, 1634. 
Pigeon Woodpecker, 1037, 1039. 
Pileated Woodpecker, Western, 
1020. 


2714 


Pine Bullfinch, 152. 
Crow, 23. 
Finch, 181. 
Linnet, 181. 
Siskin, 181. 
Pine Grosbeak, California, 152. 
Pinicola enucleator californica, 152. 
Pink-footed Shearwater, 1996. 
Pintado Petrel, 1995. 
Pintail, 1784, 1840. 
Pin-tailed Grouse, 1599. 
Pinyon Jay, 28. 
Pipilo aberti, 397. 
crissalis carole, 403. 
crissalis, 401. 
senicula, 403. 
maculatus clemente, 391. 
curtatus, 392. 
falcifer, 391. 
falcinellus, 392. 
megalonyx, 390. 
montanus, 392. 
oregonus, 391. 
Pipit, American, 831. 
Louisiana, 831. 
Piranga ludoviciana, 431. 
rubra cooperi, 429. 
rubra, 428. 
Pisobia acuminata, 1230. 
auriia, 1230. 
bairdi, 1235. 
maculata, 1231. 
minutilla, 1238. 
Plain Titmouse, 601. 
Plains Horned Lark, 840. 
Planesticus migratorius caurinus, 
760. 
migratorius, 758. 
propinquus, 759. 
Plegadis guarauna, 1924. 
Plover, American Golden, 1296. 
Belding’s, 1328. 
Black-bellied, 1290. 
Field, 1277, 1296. 
Helvetian, 1290. 
Kildee, 1299. 
Mountain, 1329. 
Prairie, 1329. 
Ring, 1310. 
Semipalmated, 1310. 
Snowy, 1314. 
Upland, 1277. 
Western Wilson, 1328. 
Wilson’s, 1328. 
Plumbeous Bush-Tit, 636. 
Gnat-catcher, 815. 
Vireo, 571. 
Plumed Quail, 1571. 
Plumed Partridge, 1571. 
Pluvialis dominicus dominicus, 1296. 


* 


Podasocys montanus, 1329. 
Podilymbus podiceps, 2057. 
Point Barrow Gull, 1363. 
Point Pinos Junco, 298. 
Polioptila cerulea obscura, 809. 
californica, 819. 
plumbea, 815. 
*Polyborus cheriway, 1643. 
audubont, 1643. 
Pomarine Jaeger, 1355. 
Pomarine Skua, 1355. 
Pomatorhine Jaeger, 1355. 
Powcetes gramineus affinis, 245. 
confinis, 241. 
Poorwill, 1053. 
Poorwill, Brewster’s, 1054. 
California, 1054. 
Dusky, 1054. 
Frosted, 1054. 
Nuttall’s, 1053. 
Portland Tern, 1450. 
Porzana carolina, 1540. 
Poul d’eau, 1557. 
Prairie Chicken, 1599. 
Falcon, 1608. 
Plover, 1329. 
Priofinus cinereus, 2009. 
Progne subis hesperia, 520. 
Psaltriparus minimus caltfornicus, 
629. 
minimus, 628. 
plumbeus, 636. 
Ptychoramphus aleuticus, 1467. 
Puffin, Horn-billed, 1518. 
Horned, 1516. 
Tufted, 1507. 
Unicorn, 1518. 
Puffinus bulleri, 2009. 
carneipes, 2005. 
creatopus, 1996. 
griseus, 2001. 
opisthomelas, 1998. 
tenutrostris, 2006. 
Pug-nosed Auklet, 1474. 
Pygmy Nuthatch, 646. 
Pygmy Owl, 1128. 
Pygmy Owl, California, 1128. 
Coast, 1129. 
Rocky Mountain, 1130. 
Pyrocephalus rubinus mexicanus, 


gil. 


Q 


Qua-bird, rgIto. 

Quail, California, 1575. 
Catalina Island, 1578. 
Desert, 1586. 

Gambel’s, 1586. 
Mountain, 1570. 
Northern Mountain, 1570. 


Quail, Northern Valley, 1575. 
Painted, 1570. 
Plumed, 1571. 
San Pedro; 1571. 
Southern Mountain, 1571. 
Southern Valley, 1576. 
Top-knot, 1576. 
Valley, 1576. 

Quail-head, 234. 

Quawk, 1910. 


Querquedula cyanoptera cyanoptera, 


1772- 


discors, 1769. 
Quill-tail, r84o. 


R 


Raft Duck, 1807. 

Rail, California Black, 1549. 
California Clapper, 1530. 
Carolina, 1540. 
Farallon, 1549. 

Farallon Black, 1549. 
Light-footed, 1533. 
Little Black, 1549. 
Pacific Black, 1549. 
Sora, 1540. 
Yellow, 1544. 
Yuma Clapper, 1536: 
Virginia, 1537:": 
Rain-Crow, 1148, 1907: 
Rallus levipes, 1533. 
obsoletus, 1530. 
virginianus; 1537- 
yumanensis, 1536. 

Raven, 1. 

Recurvirostra americana, 1191. 

Red-backed Hummingbird, 930. 

Red-backed Sandpiper, 1243. 

Red-bellied Hawk, 1683. 

Nuthatch, 643. 
Snipe, \r221. 1° 
Red-billed Tropic-bird, 1933. 
Red-breasted Hawk, 1683. 
Merganser,°1747. 
Nuthatch, 643. 
Sapsucker, ro1t. 
Sheldrake, 1747. 
Mealyyi72) 
Woodpecker, 1012. 

Red-Crossbill, 146. 

Red-eyed Vireo, 563. 

Redhead, 1800. 

Red-naped Sapsucker, 1008. 

Red-necked Phalarope, 1178. 

Red Phalarope, 1171. 

Redpoll, 178. 

Redpoll, Common, 178. 
Lesser, 178. 

Red-poll Warbler, 496. 

Red-shafted Flicker, 1039. 


Red-shouldered Hawk, Western, 
1683. 

Redstart, American, 518. 

Red-tail, 1596. 

Red-tail, Black, 1674. 

Western, 1674. 

Red-tailed Hawk, Western, 1674. 
Red-throated Loon, 2036. 
Red-throated Woodpecker, 1016. 
Redwing, Bicolored, 118. 

Kern, 117. 

Nevada, 116. 

Northwestern, 116. 

San Diego, 114. 

Sonora, 116. 

Swamp, I14. 

Tricolored, 104. 
Red-winged Blackbird, rr4. 
Red-winged Woodpecker, 1039. 
Reed-bird, 136. 

*Regulus calendula calendula, 801. 
3 oF grinnelli, 801. 
regulus olivaceus, 796. 
= satrapa olivaceus, 796. 
Resplendent Cormorant, 1956. 
“Rhino,” 1518. 
Rice-bird, 136. 
Richardson’s Jaeger, 1357- 

Merlin, 1634. 

Pewee, 905. 

Pigeon Hawk, 1634. 
Ring-biiled Gull, 1413. 
Ring-neck, 1310. 

Ring-necked Duck, 1812. 
Ring-necked Pheasant, 1567. 
Ring Plover, 1310. 

Riparia riparia, 533. 

Rissa tridactyla pollicaris, 1361. 
Road-runner, 1137. 

Robin, 758. 

Robin, American, 758. 

Columbian, 768. 

Eastern, 758. 

Mountain, 768. 

Northwest, 760. 

Oregon, 768. 

Painted, 768. 

Varied, 768. 

Western, 759. 

Winter, 768. 

Rock Duck, 1825. 
Swift, 960. 
Wren, 683. 
Rocky Mountain Black-headed 
Grosbeak, 419. 
Downy Woodpecker; 992. 
Garrot, 1817. 
Junco, 289. 
Pygmy Owl, 1130. 
Song Sparrow, 356. 


Rocky Mountain Swift, 969. 

Rodger’s Fulmar, 1994. 

Roseate Spoon-bill; 1932. 

Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 417. 

Ross’s Snow Goose, 1850. 

Rosy Finch, Dawson’s, 156. 
Sierra Nevada, 156. 

Rough-billed Pelican, 1961. 

Rough-leg, American, 1696. 

Ferruginous, 1698. 
Rough-legged Buzzard, 1696. 
Rough-legged Buzzard, Ferruginous, 
1698. 
Rough-legged Hawk, American, 
1696. 

Rough-winged Swallow, 529. 

Royal Tern, 1439. 

Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 801. 

Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Sitka, 802. 

Western, 801. 

Ruddy Diver, 1840. 

Ruddy Duck, 1840. 

Ruddy Horned Lark, 838. 

Ruffed Grouse, 1596. 

Ruffed Grouse, Oregon, 1596. 

Rufous Hummer, 930. 

Rufous-crowned Sparrow, 268. 

Russet-backed-Thrush, 759. 

Rusty Blackbird, 8r. 

Rusty-crowned Falcon, 1636. 

Rusty Grackle, 81. 

Rusty Song Sparrow, 344. 


S 


Sabine’s Gull, 1433. 
Sacramento Towhee, 392. 
Sage Cock, 1602. 
Grouse, 1602. 
Hen, 1602. 
Mocker, 727. 
Sparrow, 281. 
Sparrow, California, 282. 
Nevada, 281. 
Thrasher, 727. 
Sahuaro Screech Owl, 1104. 
Salpinctes obsoletus, 683. 
Salt Marsh Song Sparrow, 349- 
Salt Marsh Yellow-throat, 506. 
Salton Sink Song Sparrow, 358. 
Salt-water Marsh-hen, 1530. 
Samuel’s Song Sparrow, 348. 
San Clemente Song Sparrow, 353. 
Towhee, 391. 
Wren, 669. 
Sanderling, 1253. 
San Diego Marsh Sparrow, 256. 
Redwing, 114. 
Song Sparrow, 351. 
Spotted Towhee, 390. 
Titmouse, 602. 


2015 


San Diego Towhee, 390. 
Wren, 668. 

Sandhi!l Crane, Little, 1525. 
Southern, 1526. 

Sand Martin, 533. 

Sand-peep, 1246. 

Sandpiper, Baird’s, 1235. 
Bartramian, 1277. 
Least, 1238. 
Pectoral, 1231. 
Red-backed, 1243. 
Sharp-tailed, 1230. 
Spotted, 1278. 
Western, 1246. 


Western Semipalmated, 1246. 


Western Solitary, 1268. 
Sandwich Sparrow, 246. 
San Francisco Towhee, 391. 
San Joaquin Wren, 669. 
San Pedro Quail, 1571. 


Santa Barbara Island Song Spar 
TOW, 353. 


Santa Cruz Chickadee, 62c. 
Island Jay, 58. 
Island Wren, 66y. 
Jav, 58. 
Song Sparrow, 351. 
Sapsucker, Daggett’s, ror2. 


Northern Red-breasted, 1o11. 


Red-breasted, 1o1'. 
Red-naped, 1008. 

Sierra, 1012. 

Sierra Red-breasted, 1012. 
Williamson’s, 1016. 


Savanna Sparrow, Aleutian, 246. 


Desert, 248. 
Dwarf, 249. 
Eastern, 247. 
Gray, 247. 
Larger, 246. 
Nevada, 248. 
Pale, 248. 
Southern, 256. 
Western, 247. 

Saw-bill. 1743, 1747. 

Saw-whet Owl, rcg9. 

Sayornis nigricans, 8€8. 
phoebe, 867. 
sayus, 873. 

Say’s Pewee, 873. 

Say’s Phoebe, 873. 

Scaup, 1807. 

Scaup, Greater, 1£07. 
Lesser, 1810. 

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher, 847. 

Scooter, 1831. 

Scoter, American, 1830. 
American Black, 1830. 
American Velvet, 1831. 
Dixon’s, 1831. 


2716 


Scoter, White-winged, 1831. 
Scotiaptex nebulosa nebulosa, 1096. 
Scott’s Oriole, 93. 

Screech Owl, r1or. 

Screech Owl, Arizona, 1104. 
Bendire’s, 1103. 

California Coast, 1103. 
Dwarf, 1109. 
Flammulated, rrog. 
Least, 1109. 
McFarlane’s, rror. 
Mexican, 1104. 
Sahuaro, 1104. 

Sea Coot, 1830, 1831, 1835. 

Sea Duck, 1831. 

Sea-hawk, 1353. 

Sea Parrot, 1507. 

Sea Pigeon, 1422, 1475. 

Sea Swallow, 1448. 

Seiurus aurocapillus, 501. 
motacilla, 502. 
noveboracensis notabilis, 503. 

Selasphorus alleni, 924. 
rufus, 930. 
platycercus, 922. 

Semipalmated Plover, 1310. 

Semipalmated Tattler, 1271. 

Setophaga ruticilla, 518. 

Shag, 1937, 1948, 1956. 

Sharp-shinned Hawk, 1657. 

Sharp-tailed Grouse, Columbian, 

1599. 
Common, 1599. 
Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, 1230. 
Sharp-tailed Sparrow, Nelson’s, 
266. 

Shearwater, Black-tailed, 2009. 
Black-vented, 1998. 
Dark-bodied, 2001. 
Flesh-footed, 2005. 

New Zealand, 2008. 
Pale-footed, 2005. 
Pink-footed, 1996. 
Short-tailed, 2006. 
Slender-billed, 2006. 
Sooty, 2001. 

Sheldrake, 1743, 1747. 

Sheldrake, Red-breasted, 1747. 

Short-tailed Gull, 1418. 

Short-eared Owl, 1087. 

Short-legged Pewee, 905. 

Short-tailed Albatross, 1989. 

Short-tailed Shearwater, 2006. 

Shoveller, 1778. 

Shrike, California, 592. 

Great Northern, 589. 
Island, 598. 
Northwestern, 589. 
White-rumped, 591. 

Shuffler, 1807. 


Shufeldt’s Junco, 289. 
Shumagin Fox Sparrow, 367. 
Sialia currucoides, 781. 
mexicana occidentalis, 774. 
Sickle-bill, 1282. 
Sierra Creeper, 651. 
Crossbill, 147. 
Grouse, 1590. 
Hermit Thrush, 748. 
Horned Lark, 840. 
Junco, 291. 
Nevada Rosy Finch, 156. 
Red-breasted Sapsucker, ror2. 
Sapsucker, 1o12. 
Woodpecker, 987. 
Singing Dove, 1165. 
Siskin, American, 181. 
Pine, 181. 
Sitka Kinglet, 802. 
Sitkan Dwarf Thrush, 740. 
Sitka Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 802. 
Sitta canadensis, 643. 
carolinensis aculeata, 638. 
ltenuissima, 642. 
pygmea leuconucha, 647. 
pygmea, 646. 
Skua, Chilean, 1353. 
Pomarine, 1355. 
South American, 1353. 
Southern, 1353. 
Slate-colored Fox Sparrow,,. 375. 
Slate-colored Junco, 286. 
Slender-billed Nuthatch, 638. 
Slender-billed Nuthatch, Inyo, 642. 
Slender-billed Shearwater, 2006. 
Snake-bird, 1935. 
Snake-killer, 1137. 
Snake Owl, 1120. 
Snipe, American, 1215. 
Brant, 1337. 
Checkered, 1337. 
“English,” 1215. 
Grass, 1231. 
Gray, 1228. 
Horsefoot, 1337. 
Jack, 1215, 1231. 
Red-bellied, 1221. 
Robin, 1228. 
Stone, 1263, 1337. 
Western Red-breasted, 1221. 
Wilson’s, 1215. 
Snow-bird, 286. 
Snow-bird, California, 291. 
Hybrid, 289. 
Oregon, 288. 
Western, 288. 
Snow Goose, Lesser, 1845. 
Ross’s, 1850. 
Snowy Egret, 1g9or. 
Heron, 1901. 


Snowy Owl, 1119. 
Plover, 1314. 

Socorro Petrel, 2021. 

Solitaire, Townsend’s, 785. 

Solitary Vireo, 570. 

Solitary Vireo, Cassin’s, 570. 

Solitary Sandpiper, Western, 1268 

Somateria spectabilis, 1828. 

Song Sparrow, 337- 

Song Sparrow, Alameda, 349. 
Heermann’s, 354. 
Lincoln’s, 359. 
Mailliard’s, 355. 

Marin, 348. 
Mendocino, 347. 
Merrill’s, 356. 
Modesto, 355. 

Modoc, 356. 

Oregon, 347- 

Rocky Mountain, 356. 
Rusty, 344. 

Salt Marsh, 349 
Salton Sink, 358. 
Samuel’s, 348. 

San Clemente, 353. 
San Diego, 351. 

Santa Barbara Island, 353. 
Santa Cruz, 351. 
Sooty, 344. 

Suisun, 349. 

Swamp, 365. 
Yakutat, 343- 

Sonora Redwing, 116. 

Sonora Yellow Warbler, 460. 

Sooty Fox Sparrow, 369. 
Grouse, 1589. 
Shearwater, 2001. 

Song Sparrow, 344. 

Sora, 1540. 

Sora Rail, 1540. 

South American Skua, 1353. 

Southern Bald Eagle, 1711. 
Savanna Sparrow, 256. 
Sandhill Crane, 1526. 
Skua, 1353. 

Violet-green Cormorant, 1956. 
White-headed Woodpecker, 

1004. 
Wren-Tit, 823. 

South-southerly, 1822. 

Sparrow, Alameda Song, 349. 
Alberta Fox, 367. 
Aleutian Savanna, 246. 
Artemisia, 281. 
Belding’s Marsh, 256. 
Bell’s, 277. 
Black-chinned, 309. 
Brewer’s, 312. 

Bryant’s Marsh, 254. 
California Sage, 282. 


Sparrow, Crown, 331. 


Desert, 273. 

Desert Savanna, 248. 
Domestic, 223. 

Dwarf Savanna, 24). 
Eastern Fox, 365. 
Eastern Savanna, 247. 
English, 223. 

Forbush’s, 360. 

Fox, 365. 

Fox-colored, 365. 
Gambel’s, 326. 
Golden-crowned, 317. 
Gray Savannah, 247. 
Harris’s, 315. 
Heermann’s Song, 354. 
House, 223. 
Intermediate Crowned, 326. 
Kadiak Fox, 367. 
Large-billed Marsh, 259. 
Larger Savanna, 246. 
Lincoln’s, 359. 

Lincoln’s Song, 359. 
Mailliard’s Song, 355. 
Marin Song, 348. 
Mendocino Song, 347. 
Merrill’s Song, 356. 
Modesto Song, 355. 
Modoc Song, 356. 

Mono Fox, 379. 

Nevada Sage, 281. 
Nevada Savanna, 248. 
Nelson’s, 266. 

Nelson’s Sharp-tailed, 266. 
Nuttall’s, 331. 

Oregon Song, 347. 
Oregon Vesper, 245. 
Pacific Vesper, 245. 
Pale Savanna, 248. 
Rocky Mountain Song, 356. 
Rufous-crowned, 268. 
Rusty Song, 344. 

Sage, 281. 

Salt Marsh Song, 349. 
Salton Sink Song, 358. 
Samuel’s Song, 348. 

San Clemente Song, 353. 
San Diego Marsh, 256. 
San Diego Song, 351. 
Sandwich, 246. 

San Lucas, 260. 

Santa Barbara Island Song, 353. 
Santa Cruz Song, 351. 
Shumagin Fox, 367. 
Slate-colored Fox, 375. 
Sooty Fox, 369. 

Sooty Song, 344. 
Southern Savanna, 256. 
Stephens’s Fox, 384. 
Street, 223. 


* 


Sparrow, Suisun Song, 349. 
Swamp, 365. 
Swamp Song, 365. 
Thick-billed Fox, 373. 
Townsend’s Fox, 363. 
Valdez Fox, 368. 
Warner Mountains Fox, 378. 
Western Chipping, 302. 
Western Grasshopper, 263. 
Western Lark, 234. 
Western Savanna, 247. 
Western Tree, 309. 
Western Vesper, 241. 
White-crowned, 319, 331. 
White Mountains Fox, 379. 
White-throated, 335. 
Yakutat Fox, 368. 
Yakutat Song, 343. 
Yolla Bolly Fox, 378. 
Yosemite Fox, 379. 
Sparrow Hawk, 1636. 
Sparrow Hawk, Desert, 1636. 
Spat, 1840. 
Spatter Duck, 1840. 
Spatterer, 1840. 
Spatula cly peata, 1773. 
Speckle-belly, 1853. 
Speckled Brant, 1853. 
Speotyto cunicularia hypoge@a, 1120. 
Spike-billed Curlew, 1258. 
Spike-tail, 1734. 
Spine-tail, 1840. 
Sphyrapicus ruber notkensis, 101i. 
ruber, 1012. 
thyroideus, 1016. 
varius nuchalis, 1028. 
Spinus pinus, 181. 
Spizella arborea ochrasea, 309. 
atrogularis, 30). 
breweri, 312. 
monticola ochracea, 30D. 
passerina arlzon@, 302. 
Sponge Hummer, 954. 
Spoon-bill Duck, 1778. 
Spoon-bill, Roseate, 1932. 
Spoon-billed Butter-ball, 1840. 
Spotted Owl, roo. 
Spotted Sandpiper, 1278. 
Sprat Loon, 2036. 
Sprig, 1784. © 
Sprig-tail, 1784. 
Spurred Towhee, 399, 392- 
Squatarola squatarola, 1299. 
Squaw Duck, 1831, 1835. 
Stake-driver, 1916. 
Steganopus tricolor, 1184. 
Stelgidopteryx serripennis, 529. 
Steller’s Jay, 65. 
Stellula calliope, 915. 
Stephens’s Fox Sparrow, 384. 


2117 


Stercorarius longicaudus, 1360. 
parasiticus, 1357. 
pomarinus, 1355. 

*Sterna caspia, 1435. 


i elegans, 1441. 
forstert, 1443. 
hirundo, 1448. 

* 


maxima, 1439- 
paradis@a, 1450. 


Sternula antillarum brownt, 1453. 


Stilt, Black-necked, 1204. 
Stint, American, 1238. 
Stone Snipe, 1337- 
Streaked Horned Lark, 839. 
Street Sparrow, 223. 
Strix occidentalis, 1090. 
Sturnella neglecta, 129. 
Suckley’s Merlin, 1633. 
Suisun Song Sparrow, 349. 
Summer Duck, 1796. 
Red-bird, 428. 
Tanager, 428. 
Tanager, Western, 429. 
Surf-bird, 1333. 
Surf Duck, 1835. 
Surf Scoter, 1835. 
Swainson’s Hawk, 1689. 
Swainson’s Thrush, 756. 
Swallow, American Barn, 536. 
Bank, 533. 
Barn, 536. 
Cliff, 523. 
Have, 523. 
Fork-tailed, 536. 
Northern Cliff, 523. 
Northern Violet-green, 543. 
Republican, 523. 
Rough-winged, 529. 
Sea, 1448. 
Tree, 539: 
Violet-green, 543. 
White-bellied, 539. 
Swamp Redwing, 114. 
Sparrow, 365. 
Turkey, 1924. 
Swan, Trumpeter, 1886. 
Whistling, 1882. 
Swarth’s California Jay, 46. 
Swift, Cloud, 971. 
Mountain, 960. 
Northern Black, 971. 
Northern Black Cloud, 971 
Rock, 960. 
Rocky Mountain, 960. 
Vaux’s, 982. 
White-throated, 960. 
White-throated Rock, 960 


Synthliboramphus antiquus, 1481. 


2718 


T 


Tachycineta thalassina lepida, 543. 

Tanager, Cooper’s, 429. 
Crimson-headed, 431. 
Louisiana, 431. 
Summer, 428. 
Western, 431. 

Western Summer, 429. 

Tattler, 1266. 

Tattler, Common, 1266. 
Lesser, 1266. 
Long-legged, 1263. 
Semipalmated, 1271. 
Wandering, 1274. 
Yellowshanks, 1266. 

Tawny Creeper, 652. 

Tawny Owl, 1070. 


Teal, American Green-winged, 1767. 


Blue-winged, 1769. 
Cinnamon, 1772. 
European, 1766. 
Green-winged, 1767. 
Red-breasted, 1772. 
Teaser, 1360. 
Teeter-tail, 1278. 
Tell-tale, 1266. 
Telmatodytes palustris @stuarinus, 
659. 
paludicola, 657. 
plesius, 659. 
Tennessee Warbler, 440. 
Tern, Arctic, 1450. 
Black, 1460. 
Brown’s Least, 1453. 
Caspian, 1435. 
Cayenne, 1439. 
Common, 1448. 
Crimson-billed, 1450. 
Elegant, 1441. 
Forster’s, 1443. 
Paradise, 1450. 
Royal, 1439. 
Wilson’s, 1448. 
Thalasseus elegans, 1441. 
maximus, 1439. 
Thistle-bird, 187. 
Thrasher, Bendire’s, 697. 
California, 698. 
Crissal, 710. 
Desert, 705. 
Leconte’s, 705. 
Palmer’s, 694. 
Sage, 727. 
Western Curve-billed, 694. 
Yuma, 705. 
Thrush, Alaska Hermit, 739. 
Alma’s, 756. 
Cascade Hermit, 748. 
Dwarf Hermit, 740. 


Thrush, Golden-crowned, sor. 
Grinnell’s Hermit, 748. 
Hermit, 739. 

Kadiak Dwarf, 739. 

Migrating, 758. 

Monterey, 746. 

Monterey Hermit, 746. 

Mountain Hermit, 748. 

Northern Varied, 769. 

Olive-backed, 756. 

Pacific Hermit, 740. 

Russet-backed, 750. 

Sierra Hermit, 748. 

Sitkan Dwarf, 740. 

Swainson’s, 756. 

Townsend’s Flycatching, 785. 

Varied, 768. 

Western Hermit, 748. 

White Mountains Hermit, 748. 

Wood, 750. 

Thryomanes bewicki cataline, 668. 
charienturus, 668. 
drymecus, 669. 
eremophilus, 667. 
leucophrys, 669. 
marinensis, 670. 
nesophilus, 669. 
spilurus, 669. 

Thunder-pump, 1916. 

Thurber’s Junco, 291. 

Tip-up, 1278. 

Titlark, American, 831. 

Titmouse, Gray, 602. 

Plain, 601. 

San Diego, 602. 
Tolmie’s Warbler, 497. 
Topknot Quail, 1576. 

*Totanus flavipes, 1266. 

Ae melanoleucus, 1263. 

Towhee, Abert’s, 397. 
Anthony’s Brown, 403. 
Arizona Spotted, 392. 
Brown, 401. 

California Brown, gor. 

Desert, 397. 

Green-tailed, 386. 

Mountain, 392. 

Nevada Spotted, 392. 

Northern Brown, 403. 

Oregon, 391. 

Sacramento, 392. 

San Diego, 390. 

San Diego Spotted, 390. 

San Clemente, 391. 

.San Francisco, 391. 

Spotted, 390. 

Spurred, 390, 392. 
Townsend’s Bluebird, 774. 

Flycatcher, 785. 

Flycatching Thrush, 785. 


Townsend’s Fox Sparrow, 368. 
Junco, 288. 
Murrelet, 1484. 
Solitaire, 785. 
Warbler, 484. 
Toxostoma bendiret, 697. 
crissale, 710. 
curvirostre palmert, 694. 
lecontet lecontet, 705. 
redivivum, 698. 
Tree-creeping Warbler, 437. 


Tree Duck, Black-bellied, 1875. 


Fulvous, 1876. 
Tree Sparrow, Western, 300. 
Tree Swallow, 539. 
Treganza Heron, 1889. 
Tricolored Blackbird, 104. 
Redwing, 104. 


Redwinged Blackbird, 104. 


*Tringa canutus, 1228. 


solitaria cinnamomea, 1268. 
Troglodytes aedon parkmant, 674. 


Tropic-bird, Catesby’s, 1933. 
Red-billed, 1933. 

Trumpeter Swan, 1886. 

Tufted Puffin, 1507. 

Tule Goose, 1856. 

Tule Wren, 657. 

Tule Yellow-throat, 505. 

Turkey Buzzard, 1736. 

Turkey, Colorado, 1922. 
Colorado Water, 1924. 
Swamp, 1924. 
Water, 1935. 

Turkey Vulture, 1736. 

Turnstone, 1337- 

Turnstone, Black, 1342. 
Black-headed, 1342. 
Ruddy, 1338. 

Turtle Dove, 1159. 

Tyrant Flycatcher, 849. 

Tyrannus tyrannus, 849. 
verticals, 851. 
vociferans, 858. 

Tyto perlata pratincola, 1070. 


U 


Upland Plover, 1277. 
Uria troille californica, 1494. 


Vv 


Valdez Fox Sparrow, 368. 

Valley Quail, Northern, 1575. 
Southern, 1576. 

Varied Bunting, 412. 

Varied Bunting, Western, 412. 

Varied Thrush, 768. 

Varied Thrush, Northern, 769. 

Vaux’s Swift, 982. 

Verdin, 623. 


Vermilion Flycatcher, g11. 
Vermivora celata celata, 442. 
lutescens, 443. 
orestera, 443. 
sordida, 447. 
lucia, 455. 
peregrina, 440. 
ruficapilla gutturalis, 451. 
virginia, 459. 
Vesper Sparrow, Oregon, 245. 
Pacific, 245. 
Western, 241. 
Vigor’s Wren, 669. 
Violet-green Swallow, 543. 


Violet-green Swallow, Northern, 
543. 


Vireo, Anthony’s, 576. 
Arizona Least, 586. 
California Least, 586. 
Cassin’s, 570. 

Cassin’s Solitary, 570. 
Coast, 576. 

Dusky, 576. 

Gray, 583. 

Hutton’s, 576. 

Least, 586. 

Plumbeous, 571. 
Red-eyed, 563. 
Solitary, 570. 

Western Blue-headed, 570. 
Western Warbling, 566. 
Yellow-green, 565. 


Vireo belli arizona, 586. 
pusillus, 586. 
huttont hutiont, 576. 
vicinior, 583. 
Vireosylva flavoviridis, 565. 
gilva swainsoni, 566. 
olivacea, 563. 
Virginia Rail, 1537. 
Virginia’s Warbler, 459. 
Vulture, California, 1717. 
Turkey, 1736. 


Ww 


Wagtail Warbler, 496. 

Wake-up, 1037. 

Wandering Tattler, 1274. 

Warbler, Alaska Myrtle, 469. 
Alaska Pileolated, 513. 
Alaska Yellow, 462. 
Audubon’s, 472. 
Black-and-white, 437. 
Black-throated Blue, 468. 
Black-throated Gray, 479. 


Black-throated Green, 488. 


Calaveras, 451. 
California Yellow, 46r. 
Chestnut-sided, 495. 


Warbler, Dusky, 447. 


Golden, 514. 

Golden Pileolated, 514. 
Hermit, 490. 
Hoover’s, 469. 
Lucy’s, 455. 
Luteoline, 443. 
Lutescent, 443. 
Macgillivray’s, 497. 
Magnolia, 466. 
Orange-crowned, 442. 
Palm, 496. 

Red-poll, 496. 
Sonora Yellow, 460. 
Tennessee, 440. 
Tolmie’s, 497. 
Townsend’s, 484. 
Tree-creeping, 437. 
Virginia’s, 459. 
Wagtail, 496. 
Western, 490. 
Western Myrtle, 469. 
Wilson’s, 513. 
Yellow, 460. 


Warbling Vireo, Western, 566. 
Warner Mountains Fox Sparrow 


378. 


Water-hen, 1557. 
Water Ouzel, 731. 
Water-Thrush, Alaska, 503. 


Grinnell’s, 502. 
Louisiana, 502. 


Water Turkey, 1935. 
Water-witch, 2057. 
Waxwing, Bohemian, 546. 


Carolina, 550. 
Cedar, 550. 
Greater, 546. 
Lesser, 550. 
Northern, 546. 


Western Barred Owl, rogo. 


Belted Kingfisher, 1049. 
Black-capped Chickadee, 607. 
Bluebird, 774. 
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, 8o9. 
Blue Grosbeak, 413. 
Blue-headed Vireo, 570. 
Chat, 510. 
Chipping Sparrow, 302. 
Crow, 16. 
Curve-billed Thrasher, 694. 
Double-crested Cormorant, 
1937. 
Egret, 1896. 
Flycatcher, 878. 
Gnatcatcher, 809. 
Golden-crowned Kinglet, 796. 
Grasshopper Sparrow, 263. 
Great Blue Heron, 1889. 
Grebe, 2039. 


2719 


Western Gull, 1376. 
Hermit Thrush, 748. 
Herring Gull, 1376. 
Horned Owl, 1113. 
House Wren, 674. 
Kingbird, 851. 
Lark Finch, 234. 
Lark Sparrow, 234. 
Leach Petrel, 2013. 
Loon, 2034. 
Marsh Wren, 657, 659. 
Martin, 520. 
Meadowlark, 129. 
Mockingbird, 714. 
Mourning Dove, 1159. 
Phoebe, 873. 
Pileated Woodpecker, 1020. 
Raven, I. 
Red-breasted Snipe, 1221. 
Red-tail, 1674. 
Red-tailed Buzzard, 1674. 
Red-tailed Hawk, 1674. 
Robin, 759. 
Sandpiper, 1246. 
Savanna Sparrow, 247. 


Semipalmated Sandpiper, 1246. 


Snow-bird, 288. 

Solitary Sandpiper, 1268. 

Summer Tanager, 429. 

‘Tanager, 431. 

Tree Sparrow, 300. 

Vesper Sparrow, 241. 

Varied Bunting, 412. 

Warbler, 490. 

Warbling Vireo, 566. 

White-winged Dove, 116s. 

Willet, 1271. 

Wilson’s Plover, 1328. 

Winter Wren, 679. 

Wood Pewee, 905. 

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, 878. 

Yellow-billed Cuckoo, 1148. 

Yellow-throat, 504. 
Whale-bird, 1171, 1992, 2001. 
Whimbrel, American, 1285. 
Whistler, 1814, 1817. 
Whistling Swan, 1882. 
White-bellied Murrelet, 1489. 
White-bellied Swallow, 539. 
White Brant, 1845. 
White-breasted Nuthatch, 638. 
White-breasted Woodpecker, 989. 
White Crane, 1896. 
White-crowned Sparrow, 319, 331. 
White Egret, 1896. 
White Egret, California, 1896. 

Great, 1896. 
Little, rgor. 

White-faced Glossy Ibis, 1924. 
White-fronted Goose, 1853. 


2120 


White-headed Gull, 1428. 
Sea Eagle, 1711. 
Woodpecker, 1003. 

White Heron, 1896. 

White Mountains Fox Sparrow, 


White Mountains Hermit Thrush, 


748. 
White-naped Nuthatch, 647. 
White Owl, 1070. 
White Pelican, 1961. 
White-rumped Shrike, 591. 
White-tailed Kite, 1648. 
White-throated Swift, 960. 
White-throated Rock Swift, 960. 
White-throated Sparrow, 335. 
White-winged Coot, 1831. 
White-winged Scoter, 1831. 
Widgeon, American, 1761. 
European, 1761. 
Wigeon, 1761. 
Wigeon, Green-headed, 176r. 
Wild Canary, 187, 191. 
Wild Dove, 1159. 
Wild Duck, 1751. 
“Wild Goose,” 1858. 
Wild Pigeon, 1153. 
Willet, Western, 1271. 
Williamson’s Sapsucker, 1016. 
Williamson’s Woodpecker, 1016. 
Willow Goldfinch, 187. 
Willow Woodpecker, 993. 
Wilsonia pusilla chryseola, 514. 
pileolata, 513. 
Wilson’s Petrel, 2029. 
Phalarope, 1184. 
Plover, 1328. 
Snipe, 1215. 
Tern, 1448. 
Warbler, 513. 
Winter Robin, 768. 
Winter Wren, Western, 679. 
Wood Duck, 1796. 
Ibis, 1922. 
Owl, r1ogo. 
Woodhouse’s Jay, 63. 
Woodpecker, Arctic Three-toed, 
1006. 
Arizona Hairy, 989. 
Baird’s, 997. 
Batchelder’s, 992. 
Black, 1030. 


Black-backed Three-toed, 1006. 


Black-breasted, 1o16. 
Brown-headed, 1016. 
Cabanis’s, 988. 
Cactus, 997. 
California, 1023. 
Downy, 992. 
Gairdner’s, 993. 


Woodpecker, Gila, 1035. 
Golden-winged, 1037. 
Grinnell’s, 1004. 

Hairy, 987. 

Harris’s, 989. 

Lewis’s, 1030. 

Modoc, 987. 

Northern White-headed, 1003. 
Nuttall’s, 999. 

Pigeon, 1037. 

Red-breasted, 1012. 
Red-throated, 1016. 
Red-winged, 1039. 

Rocky Mountain Downy, 992. 
Sierra, 987. 

Southern White-headed, 1004. 
Southwestern Hairy, 989. 
Western Pileated, 1020. 
White-breasted, 989. 
White-headed, 1003. 
Williamson’s, 1016. 

Willow, 993. 

Wood Thrush, 750. 

Wrangel’s Murrelet, 1484. 

Wren, Auburn Canyon, 691. 
Baird’s, 667. 

Bewick’s, 667. 
Cactus, 662. 
California Marsh, 657- 
Canyon, 690. 
Catalina Island, 668. 
Desert, 667. 
Dotted Canyon, 691. 
Interior Marsh, 659- 
Marsh, 657. 
Nevada Canyon, 690. 
Nicasio, 670. 
Pacific House, 674- 
Pacific Marsh, 657- 
Parkman’s, 674. 
Rock, 683. 
San Clemente, 669. 
San Diego, 668. 
San Joaquin, 669. 
Santa Cruz Island, 669. 
Suisun Marsh, 659. 
Swarth’s Marsh, 659. 
Tule, 657. 
Vigors’s, 669. 
Western House, 674. 
Marsh, 657, 659- 
Winter, 679. 

Wren-Tit, 822. 

Wren-Tit, Coast, 823. 
Dusky, 823. 
Intermediate, $22. 
Northern, 823. 

Oregon, 823. 

Pallid, 823. 

Southern, 823. 
Wright’s Flycatcher, 889. 


x 


Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus, 124. 


Xantus’s Murrelet, 1489. 

Xema sabint, 1433. 

Xenopticus albolarvatus albolarvatus, 
1003. 


gravirostris, 1004. 


Ys 


Yakutat Song Sparrow, 343. 
Yellow-billed Magpie, 38. 
Yellow-bird, rgr. 
Yellow-hammer, 1037. 
Yellow-headed Blackbird, 124. 


Yellow-legs, Greater, 1263. 
Lesser, 1266. 
Yellow-shafted Flicker, 1037. 


Yellow-throat, Salt Marsh, 506. 


Tule, 505. 
Western, 504. 
Yellow Warbler, 460. 
Yellow Warbler, Alaska, 462. 
California, 461. 
Sonora, 460. 
Yosemite Fox Sparrow, 379. 
Yuma Thrasher, 705. 
Yuma Horned Lark, 842. 


Z 


*Zamelodia ludoviciana, 417. 
“2 melanocephala, 419. 
Zenaidura macroura marginella, 
1159. 
Zone-tailed Hawk, 1687. 
Zonotrichia albicollis, 335. 
coronata, 317. 
zambeli gambeli, 326. 
nuttalli, 331. 
leucophrys, 319- 
s leucophrys leucophrys, 319. 
gambeli, 326. 
nuttalli, 331. 
querula, 315- 


vat 


Bixee 
legant a! 


oa 


Tei esl