PRESENTED TO ST. PATRICK’S SEMINARY LIBRARY BY HIS EXCELLENCY THE MOST REVEREND ARCHBISHOP JOHN J. MITTY, D. D. jar- NUNC COCNOSCO EX PARTE TRENT UNIVERSITY LIBRARY PRESENTED IN MEMORY OF REG CHANDLER ... - - Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Kahle/Austin Foundation https://archive.org/details/birdsofcaliforni0004daws The Birds of California Copy No M&- Patrons’ Edition, De Luxe Mountain Quail About % life size From a water-color painting by Major Allan Brooks m$$ fai$/wdl$ • g" -food/- WaVA u'fcV.V ^ 8 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 oj the International Museum of Comparative Oology , Author of “ The Birds of Ohio" and ( with Mr. Bowles ) of "The Birds of IV ashington" Illustrated by 30 Photogravures, 120 Full-page Duotone Plates and More Than 1 100 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 no Full-page Color Plates Chiefly by Major Allan Brooks Format De Fuxe 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 PAGE List of Full-page Plates . xiii Description of Species Nos. 308-424 Family RallidcB (Continued). 308 The California Black Rail, Creciscus jamaicensis coturniculus . 1549 309 The Florida Gallinule, Galliniila galeata . *554 310 The American Coot, Fulica americana . 1557 Order Galliformes -Fowls. Family Phasianidce — Pheasants. 31 1 The Mongolian Pheasant, Phasianus torquatus 1567 Family Perdicidce — Partridges, Francolins, Quails. 312 The Mountain Quails, Oreortyx picta . 1570 313 The Valley Quails, Lophortyx calif ornica . 1575 314 The Desert Quail, Lophortyx gambeli . 1586 Family Tetraonidce — Grouse. 315 The Dusky Grouse, Dendragapus obscurus . 1589 316 The Oregon Ruffed Grouse, Bonasa umbellus sabini . 1596 317 The Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse, Pedicecetes phasianellus columbianus . 1599 318 The Sage-Grouse, Centrocercus urophasianus . 1602 Order Falconiformes — Falcons, Hawks, Eagles, Vultures. Family Falconidce — Falcons, Merlins, Kestrels, etc. 319 The Prairie Falcon, Falco mexicanus . 1608 320 The Peregrine Falcon, Falco per egrinus an alum . 1624 321 The Pigeon Hawks, Falco columbarius . 1630 322 The American Kestrel, Cerchneis sparverius sparverius . 1636 323 The Audubon Caracara, Polyborus cheriway auduboni . . 1643 Family Pandionidce — Ospreys. 324 The Osprey, Pandion haliaetus carolinensis . . 1644 Vll PAGE Family Milvidce — Kites. 325 The White-tailed Kite, Elanus axillaris majusculus . 1648 Family Buteonidce — Hawks, Harriers, Buzzards, Eagles, etc. 326 The Marsh Hawk, Circus cyaneus hudsonius . 1652 327 The Sharp-shinned Hawk , Accipiter velox . 1657 328 The Cooper Hawks, Accipiter cooperi . 1663 329 The Goshawks, Astur gentilis . 1668 330 The Harris Hawk, Parabuteo unicinctus harrisi . 1672 331 The Western Red-tailed Hawk, Buteo borealis calurus . 1674 332 The Red-bellied Hawk, Buteo lineatus elegans . 1683 333 The Zone-tailed Hawk, Buteo abbreviatus . 1687 334 The Swainson Hawk, Buteo swainsoni . 1689 335 The American Rough-leg, Buteo lagopus sancti-johannis . . . . 1696 336 The Ferruginous Rough-leg, Buteo ferrugineus . 1698 337 The Golden Eagle, Aquila chrysaetos . 1701 338 The Southern Bald Eagle, Ilaliceetus leucocephalus leuco- cephalus . 1 7 1 1 Family Cathartidse — American Vultures. 339 The California Condor, Gymnogyps calif ornianus . 1717 340 The Turkey Vulture, Cathartes aura septentrionalis . 1736 Order Anseres — Ducks, Geese, Swans. Family Anatidce — Ducks, Geese, Swans. 341 The American Merganser, Mergus merganser americanus . . . 1743 342 The Red-breasted Merganser, Mergus serrator . 1747 343 The Hooded Merganser, Lophodytes cucullatus . 1749 344 The Mallard, Anas boschas . 1751 345 The Black Duck, Anas rubripes . 1757 346 The Gadwall , Chaidelasmus streperus . 1 758 347 The European Widgeon, Mareca penelope . 1761 348 The Baldpate, Mareca americana . 1761 349 The European Teal, Nettion crecca . 1766 350 The Green-winged Teal, Nettion carolinense . 1767 351 The Blue-winged Teal, Querquedula discors . 1769 352 The Cinnamon Teal, Querquedula cyanoptera cyanoptera . 1772 353 The Shoveller, Spatula clypeata . 1778 354 The Pintail, Dafila acuta tzitzihoa . 1784 355 The Wood Duck, Aix sponsa . 1796 viii PAGE 356 The Redhead , Marila americana . 1800 357 The Canvas-back, Marila valisineria . 1803 358 The Greater Scaup Duck, Marila marila . 1807 359 The Lesser Scaup Duck, Marila affinis . 1810 360 The Ring-necked Duck, Marila collaris . 1812 361 d he American Golden-eye, Glaucionetta clangula americana. . 1814 362 The Barrow Golden-eye, Glaucionetta islandica . 1817 363 The Buffle-head, Charitonetta albeola . 1819 364 The Old-Squaw, Clangula hyemalis . 1822 365 The Harlequin Duck , Histrionicus histrionicus . 1825 366 The King Eider, Somateria spectabilis . 1828 367 The American Scoter, Oidemia nigra americana . 1830 368 The White-winged Scoter , Melanitta fusca dixoni . 1831 369 The Surf Scoter, Melanitta perspicillata . 1835 370 The Ruddy Duck, Erismatura jamaicensis . 1840 371 The Lesser Snow Goose, Chen hyperboreus hyperboreus . 1845 372 The Blue Goose, Chen ccerulescens . 1849 373 The Ross Snow Goose, Chen rossi . 1850 374 The White-fronted Geese, Anser albifrons . 1853 375 The Canada Geese, Branta canadensis . 1858 376 The Brant, Branta bernicla . 1869 377 The Emperor Goose, Philacte canagica . 1872 378 The Black-bellied Tree Duck, Dendrocygna autumnalis . . 1875 379 The Fulvous Tree Duck, Dendrocygna bicolor . 1876 380 The Whistling Swan, Olor columbianus . 1882 381 The Trumpeter Swan, Olor buccinator . 1886 Order Herodiones Herons, Storks, Bitterns, Ibises, etc. Family Ardeidce - — Herons, Egrets, Bitterns, Nos. 382-389. 382 The Great Blue Herons, Ardea herodias . 1888 383 The American Egret, Casmerodias egretta . 1896 384 The Snowy Egret, Egretta thula thula . 1901 385 The Louisiana Heron, Hydranassa tricolor rujicollis . 1906 386 The Anthony Green Heron, Butorides virescens anthonyi . I9°7 387 The Black-crowned Night Heron, Nycticorax nycticorax ncevius 1910 388 The American Bittern, Botaurus lentiginosus . 1916 389 The Least Bittern, Ixobrychus exilis exilis . 1920 Family Ciconidce — Storks, Adjutants, Y\ ood Ibises, etc. 390 The Wood Ibis, Mycteria americana . 1922 IX PAGE Family Ibididce — Ibises, No. 391. 391 The White-faced Glossy Ibis, Plegadis guarauna . 1924 Family Plataleidce — Spoonbills, No. 392. 392 The Roseate Spoon-bill, Ajaja ajaja . 1932 Order Staganopodes — Cormorants, Boobies, Pelicans, etc. Family Phaethontidce — Tropic-birds. 393 The Red-billed Tropic-bird, Phaethon cethereus . 1933 Family Anhingidce — Darters, No. 394. 394 The Water Turkey, Anhinga anhinga . 1935 Family Phalacrocoracidce — Shags, or Cormorants. 395 The Farallon Cormorant, Phalacrocorax auritus albociliatus . . . 1937 396 The Brandt Cormorant , Phalacrocorax penicillatus . 1948 397 The Baird Cormorant, Phalacrocorax pelagicus resplendens . . . . 1956 Family Pelicanidce — Pelicans. 398 The White Pelican, Peleccinus erythrorhynchos . 1961 399 The California Brown Pelican, Pelecanus occidentalis cali- fornicus . 1970 Family Fregatidce — Man-o’-war-birds. 400 The Pacific Man-o’-war-bird, Fregata minor palmerstoni . 1982 Order Procellariiformes -Petrel-like Birds. Family Diomediidce — Albatrosses. 401 The Black-footed Albatross, Diomedea nigripes . 1984 402 The Short-tailed Albatross, Diomedea albatrus . 1989 Family Pr ocellar iidce — Petrels, Shearwaters, etc. 403 The Fulmars, Fidmarus glacialis . 1992 404 The Pintado Petrel, Daption capense . 1995 405 The Pink-footed Shearwater, Pufinus creatopus . 1996 406 The Black-vented Shearwater, Pnffinus opisthomelas . 1998 407 The Dark-bodied Shearwater, Pufinus griseus . 2001 408 The Flesh-footed Shearwater, Pufinus carneipes . 2005 409 The Slender-billed Shearwater, Pufinus tenuirostris . 2006 410 The New Zealand Shearwater, Pufinus bulleri . 2008 x PAGE 4 1 1 The Black-tailed Shearwater, Priofinus cinereus . 2009 412 The Fork-tailed Petrel, Oceanodroma furcata . . 2010 413 The Leach Petrels, Oceanodroma leucorhoa . 2013 414 The Coues Petrel, Oceanodroma homochroa . 2024 415 The Black Petrel, Oceanodroma melania . 2027 416 The Wilson Petrel, Oceanites oceanicus . 2029 Order Gaviae — Loons, Divers. Family Gaviidce — Loons. 417 The Common Loon, Gavia immer . . 2030 418 The Pacific Loon, Gavia arctica pacifica . 2034 419 The Red-throated Loon, Gavia stellata . 2036 Order Podicipedes — Grebes. Family Podicipedidce — Grebes. 420 The Western Grebe, PEchmophorus occidentalis . 2039 421 The Holboell Grebe, Colymbus grisegena holbcelli . 2047 422 The Horned Grebe, Colymbus auritus . 2048 423 The American Eared Grebe, Colymbus nigricollis calif ornicus . . 2051 424 The Pied-billed Grebe, Podilymbus podiceps . 2057 Analytical Keys . 2067 Index . 2103 xi List of Full-page Plates Facing Page Mountain Quail (Color-plate) . Frontispiece California Black Rail (Color-plate) . 1552 Nest and Eggs of Florida Gallinule (Photogravure) . 1556 Valley Quail (Color-plate) . 1574 Valley Quail, Female at Nest (Duotone) . 1576 Under the Lemon Tree (Duotone) . 1578 N/20 Valley Quail (Duotone) . 1584 Desert Quail (Color-plate) . 1586 N/14 Desert Quail in Old Thrasher Nest (Duotone) . 1588 Mammoth Rock (Duotone) . 1590 Prairie Falcon (Color-plate) . 1608 Point of Rocks (Duotone) . 1616 Nesting Site of Prairie Falcon (Photogravure) . 1622 Nest and Eggs of Peregrine Falcon (Duotone) . 1628 American Kestrel (Color-plate) . 1640 White-tailed Kite (Color-plate) . 1648 American Goshawk (Color-plate) . 1668 A Desert Oasis (Duotone) . 1674 Nest of Bald Eagle on Sea Cliff (Photogravure) . I7:4 California Condors (Duotone) . i724 Mallards and Pintails (Color-plate) . 175° Portrait of Green-winged Teal, Female (Duotone) . 1766 Cinnamon Teal (Color-plate) . J772 Behind the Screen (Duotone) . 1 77^ Shovellers, Rising en Masse ''Duotone) . 1782 Pintail Ducks (Color-plate) . !784 Mass Flight of Pintails (Duotone) . U88 An Orderly Flight of Sprigs (Duotone) . J794 Wood Duck (Color-plate) . !796 N/19 American Redhead (Photogravure) . 1800 Lesser Scaups (Duotone) . 1810 Ring-neck Duck (Color-plate) . 1812 Barrow’s Golden-eye (Color-plate) . 1816 Bufflehead (Color-plate) . 1818 Harlequin Duck (Color-plate) . l82^ Ruddy Ducks, Male and Female (Duotone) . i84° The Spatter Duck (Duotone) . l844 xiii Facing Page The White-fronted Geese (Color-plate) . 1852 Fulvous Tree Duck (Color-plate) . 1876 Nest and Eggs of Fulvous Tree Duck (Color-plate) . 1880 Great Blue Heron (Photogravure) . 1888 Anthony’s Green Heron (Color-plate) . 1906 N/9 Anthony Green Heron (Duotone) . 1908 Au Revoir (Duotone) . 1910 Humoresque (Duotone) . 1914 Medusa (Duotone) . 1916 A Tut-ankh-amen Frieze (Photogravure) . 1924 Inattention (Duotone) . 1926 Egyptienne (Duotone) . 1930 Farallon Cormorants, Adult and Young (Duotone) . 1936 A Tree-top Colony of Farallon Cormorants (Duotone) . 1924 A Trio of Shags’ Nests (Duotone) . 1946 Breasting the Breeze (Duotone) . i960 “Where Alph, the sacred river, ran” (Photogravure) . 1970 Impending Tragedy (Duotone) . 1974 A Grave Subject (Duotone) . 1978 Taking Off (Duotone) . 1980 Black-vented Shearwater (Color-plate) . 1998 Beal’s Petrel on Nest (Duotone) . 2014 Out of the Depths (Photogravure) . 2040 American Eared Grebe (Color-plate) . 2050 N/9 Eared Grebe (Duotone) . 2054 Contemporary Ancestors (Duotone) . 2 056 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. — Pacific Black Rail. Farallon Rail. Farallon Black Rail. Little Black Rail. Description. — Adult: Plead, 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. Immature: 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. 1 1 1 (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 hie the imagination and feed the fancy. \ our 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 dote 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, 1 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 10th, 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 report2 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 oologists of San Diego, however, belongs the chief credit for having brought the ways of the California Black Rail to light. 1 Auk, Vol. XXIV., April, 1907, pp. 205-210. 2 Mr. Edward Wall in Condor, Vol. XXI., Nov. 1919, p. 238. 1550 The California Black Rail Mr. Frank Stephens, writing in March, 1909,1 credits “a lad” 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 oologist, A. M. Ingersoll, evidently relying in part upon the experience of this same “lad,” reports2 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. s 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. XL, March, 1909, pp. 47-49* -The Condor, Vol. XL, July, 1909, pp. 123-127. 8 Reported in the Condor, Vol. XVIII., March, 1916, pp. 59-6 2. '55i 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. Wit In 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 1552 NEST AND EGGS OF PACIFIC BLACK RAIL % -v-' \ £. ■ .V : .• K.* •• •• *• >. ", • * < ■ • -vs - : , ' ■ . & . *>' : 7 •• California Black Rail About % life size 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 oological 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 oology, 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. 1553 The Florida G allin ule No. 309 Florida Gallinule A. O. U. No. 219. Gallinula galeata (Lichtenstein). Synonyms. — Mud-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: Ma}'— 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 — literally 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 I)r. Brewster1 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 JAuk, 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. I555 The Florida Gallinule sudden dirt 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- CJ S _ © C5 *S o3 ns u © ^ © -c '« ■“ a fc' >, °5 -© «4 -4 o ■50 be be H ■S.-3 *■* w fi « © * 5:« -d S3 03 E © V- ■fc. efi a> 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 silver 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 duckings 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 iorests! No. 310 American Coot A. O. U. No. 22i. Fulica americana Gmelin. Synonyms. — Mud-hen. Water-hen. Crow-duck. Poul d’eau. Ivory¬ 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 ot feathers; frontal shield reduced in size. Immature: Similar but more extensively tipped with whitish; frontal shield still iurther 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 (2-20b Bill (including frontal shield) 44.5 ( 1 . 75) ‘ tarsus 53-3 (2-IQ); middle toe and claw /8-7 (3- 10). •Auk, Vol. XXXIV., July. 1917. P- 319- 1557 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 49.5x33 (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. LT. 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 tide 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 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 a swan. This vis-a-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, 1559 The America n 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 the manner of the do¬ 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 ot 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, cm 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 Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author THE SIGNAL THE FLASH OF WHITE ON THE UNDER TAIL-COVERTS IS THE "FOLLOW ME" SIGN 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 larvae, 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 Taken in San Francisco Ph°‘° by the Author THE CROWD quite capable, likewise, of gleaning grain from the bottom ot 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 1561 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 tlock 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 1562 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 I 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 & the Aulhor 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 tiapped 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 1563 77k’ Anu'hciin Coot appeared to bo \ 01 \ much alix e w lion released either in t lie air or upon the water. It would appear that the bird eannot launch to wing on account ol the impeding grass, and, realizing its plight, attempts deception in¬ stead. by wax ol nesting the C oot puts a hatiul ol speckled eggs on a bulky heap ol broken sedges or tides. This accumulation may be placed either on df\ land near some waterway , or in various depths of waiter in the weedy or reedy margins ol 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 C oot under such lar¬ i' u m s t a n c e s a 1 w a y s 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. I prefer to st ress the tie existing between the RaUiformes and the G alii formes. Whatever other connec¬ tions we must recognize for these two groups, Photo by the Author ■■ \: AMERICAN COOT 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 plumage everywhere in¬ terspersed with longer hair-like feathers, the Taken in Washington A HATFUL OF SPECKLED EGGS Photo hy the A ulhor 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 in ovo, he promptly scrambles over the side of the nest and paddles off to safety. Heartless infant!’’ 1565 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 t566 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, a little 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 nearlv plain buffy brown; the tail-feathers barred for their entire length, dusky and 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 40.9x33.3 (1.61x1.31). 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. II. 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 1568 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 C ontinental fashion. Stubble fields and open situations are the preferred range of the Ring- necks, but they are quite at home in the jungle. I hey 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 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. 0. U. No. 292. Oreortyx picta picta (Douglas). Synonyms. — Painted 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 bufify- and dusky-barred. Average of io 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 0. 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 ( Ortyx picta), Trans. Linn. Soc. London, vol. xvi., pt. 1, 1829, p. 143 (orig. desc. ; interior of Calif.); Ridgway, Auk, vol. xi., 1894, p. 193, pi. 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 0. 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 0. 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 0. 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), leones Avium, pt. 1, Aug., 1837, pi. 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. Zook, vol. x., 1913, p. 228 (San Jacinto Mts. ; habits; crit., as regards 0. p. confinis). 1571 The Mountain Quails 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. Eor a 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. Eor 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 f 572 The Mountain Quails intervals of five or six seconds. Now and 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, 1 believe, is strictly a mating or a questing call, queelk or queelp. This 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 quilk ing, 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 9000 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 1573 The Mountain Quails of its range ( 0 . 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,1 conjectured to be between 0. p. confinis and L. c. calif ornica. 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 1 In Harvey County, Oregon. See Condor, Vol. XIII., Sept. 1911, pp. 149-151. 1574 ■x 9 9 n 03 •a « V « k& 51 — ^ «e C ^ ;5 a JT, o « Gf -2 « ^ «8 t* >» tf 2 11 s *■ 3 S 9 TO 9 -o i 2 * " « ■s 8 s ! o £ 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 californica^. 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 1575 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 ochraeeous buffy or tawny, forming conspicuous stripes; sides the color of back, sharply striped with creamy white; lower breast, broadly, light ochraeeous 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 ochraeeous 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 ochraeeous, 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 io adult males: length 245.7 (9.67); wing 109.6 (4.31); tail 80 (3.15); bill 11.1 (.44) ; tarsus 33-6 (1.32). 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 31.6x24.1 (1.24 x .95) ; index 76.6. Season: May-June 15 (July-Sept. 15 of record); one or two broods. Range of Lophortyx calif ornica. — 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 calif ornicus), 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, pi. 1 (food). No. 313a Valley Quail A. 0. 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 Valley Quail, Female at Nest From a photograph by Donald R. Dickey Taken in the Ojai The Valley Quails Taken[:n theOjai Photo by Donala 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 confinis, 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 A. 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 is 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 Under the Lemon Tree A singularly exposed nesting site of the Valley Quail From a photograph by Wright M. Pierce Taken in Los Angeles County 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 1579 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- T aken at Los Colibris Photo by the A ulhor 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' 1580 The Valley Quails uk, ku kwak' u k - k o , 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 "SETT IN’ HEN" from time to time with a 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, in a clump of ferns, under a protecting bush, nestled at the base of a haystack, or even hidden in the cranny of a rock. 1581 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¬ able save by flight. Eggs are deposited 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,1 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. 1582 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, Airs. 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 ot 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 Taken near Santa Barbara Fhoto by the Author “OR EVEN HIDDEN IN THE CRANNY OF A ROCK” n 20 Valley Quail From a photograph by the Author Taken in Monterey County 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 tides 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 ( Cerchneis 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. 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 anti 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. calif ornica, 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 not marked with white); remainder of back, wings and upper tail-coverts light brownish olive or bufify 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, S3 « <3 U c> mm cu oN N Sd *-35 ss „ - VM & s <5* ■» a> m Q £ .8 A 5? o .a < 3 *■ ;s* 1 ...» .m 5# '*■; . .'>1 1 * • •■> 9 '4 •>« Js •S The Desert Quail plain ochraceous buffy; upper belly, broadly, black (where calif ornica 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 (-93 x -77)- The largest egg is thus 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, irom the desert divide in southern California and northeastern Lower California east to the El Paso region of western Texas north to southern Nevada, southern LTtah, 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 gamheli) , ih Stansbury’s Expl. Great Salt Lake, 1 853, p. 334 (California); Cones, 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 ot 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 1 have heard the questing call kuh kwda 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- 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. — Blue Grouse. Mountain 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 ol 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. richardsoni. 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. 0. fuliginosus. — Humid coastal district from Sitka south to north¬ western California. Distribution in California. — 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 ( Tetrao obscurus), Proc. Zool. Soc. London, 1858, p. 1, part (Trinity Mts.);L. Kellogg, Condor, vol. xiii . , 1911, p. 119 (Hayfork, Trinity Co.); Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 11, 1915, p. 60 (status in Calif.). No. 315b Sierra Grouse A. O. U. No. 297c. Dendragapus obscurus sierrae 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. 0. sierrce (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 Mammoth Rock A Breeding Haunt of the Sierra Grouse From a photograph by the A uthor Taken in Mono County 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. x.x., 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. sierrce. 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 himselt 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 ot a cen- 1591 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 I592 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 1 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— A NEST IN THE PINE woods how securely may be noted in As before, the race depicted is d. o. fuiiginosus 1593 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. 1 594 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 ttee-top, squatting and freezing so perfectly that it requires a practiced eye to detect it. 1 he 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. I he bird attains a goodly size, three, four, or even five pounds, in the case of a 1 595 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.” Bush 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. u. 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.). '596 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 Hushing 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. 7 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 the 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. It is a 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 unlikely to be somewhere in 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. near Tacoma Photo by the Author NEST AND EGGS OF OREGON RUFFED GROUSE AT BASE OK ALDER TREE 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 dznt 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. Pedioecetes phasianellus eolumbianus (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 1599 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 huffy 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, etc. 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 1st; one brood. Range of Pedicecetes 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., 1 857 , p. 94 (50 mi. n. e. Ft. Reading; Pit River); Coues, 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 is “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 to wing. 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 ot 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 P “After the disappearance of snow and the coming of warmer weather, the chickens meet every morning at gray dawn in Speaking of a closely allied form, P. p. campestris — The Birds of Manitoba, Proc. U. S. Nat'l Museum, Vol. XIII. (1890), p. 519- IOOI 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 leathers, 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.” No. 318 Sage Grouse A. O. U. No. 309. Centrocercus urophasianus (Bonaparte). Synonyms. — Sage 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 (1 1. 00-14. 00) ; weight 4 to 8 pounds. Adult hen: length 533.4-584.2 (21.00- 23.00); wing 254-279.4 (10.00-1 1. 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. 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); Coues, 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 a sort, but food and probably drink as well. At least, from 1603 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. CHANGE 1604 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, family groups, in which the mother re¬ mains a cen¬ tral figure, until late autumn. At that sea¬ son several Taken in Oregon Photo by William L. Finley ALL FOR THE LADIES! THESE THREE POSES ARE FROM CONTIGUOUS MEMBERS OF A MOTION PICTURE FILM. NOTE RAPIDITY OF The Sage-Hen coveys may unite to form a “pack,” 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. Th ese 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 their local range to 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 1605 in Oregon Photo by Finley and Bohlman PORTRAIT OF SAGE GROUSE 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, the 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 it is absurd ! 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 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 Taken m Oregon Photo by William L. Finley FULL DRESS the sage grouse is well named Cenlrocercus , “spike-tail” 1606 The Sage-Hen 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- r a o n i d ae . 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 Taken in 0rei°n Pholo by William L. Finley R A DESERT ROSE pel season. out It REAR VIEW OF SAGE COCK AT MAXIMUM STAGE OF COURTING DISPLAY our people can be 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 11s. ✓ 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. 0. U. No. 355. Falco mexicanus Schlegel. Synonyms. — Mexican Falcon. 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 : v.; .. ttkir<i'l tmisiH ,- ■;■■' «sf .. '• Vjilflt Prairie Falcon Adult male and junvenal male, about Va life siae 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 (1 1. 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. Av. 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.1 But the bird-lover cannot be consistent. Within his little province he cannot “love good and hate evil,” tor 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 JThe basis of this article appeared in ‘ The Condor,” Vol. XV., March-April i silfS viittO l.-5-iiiO iV.il K»?, St! , -,< :«[ ;•'•■•} . Nesting Site of Prairie Falcon From a photograph by tV. Leon Dawson Taken in San Luis Obispo County 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 mutahile semper femina ) dips her brush in oorhodeine 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 1853,1 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 i860 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. pi. 16. 2 Birds of the Northwest (1874), p. 346. Taken in San Luis Obispo County Photo by the Author LEAVING THE COUNTRY The Per eg vine Falcon No. 320 Peregrine Falcon A. O. U. No. 356. Falco peregrinus anatum (Bonaparte). Synonyms. — American Peregrine Falcon. Great-footed Falcon. Duck H AWK. 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 eye, 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 ( 1 1. 50- 1 3.00) ; 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 oi birds, in the M. C. O. coll.; 53.7 x 43 (2.11 x 1.69); index 80. Season: March 10— 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, chief!)' 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, pi. 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.). 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 / 62 5 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 Photo 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 Hooded lowlands of the lower San Joaquin. Tyler1 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 1 Pacific Coast Avifauna, No. 9, Some Birds of the Fresno District, by John G. Tyler (1913), p. 45. 1626 The Peregrine Falcon 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 tides, 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 and half a dozen teal fell with cries of fear into the water almost at our feet. Had there been no water directly under them 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, tor 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 trail 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 Taken in Washington Photo by the Author A PAIR OF PEALE FALCONS THESE REPRESENT A DARKER RACE OF THE PERE¬ GRINE FALCON TYPE 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 Nest and Eggs of Peregrine Falcon, in Situ From a photograph by the Author Taken in Kern County 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, 1898. 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 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 Taken in Washington Photo by the Author MASTER PEALE 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. 0. U. No. 357. Falco columbarius columbarius Linnaeus. 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, 1st shorter than 4th, 1st 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. Immature: 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 (10.00-1 1.50) ; 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- 1630 The Pigeon Hawks portions otherwise; heavily umber-streaked lower parts; tail crossed by four whitish bars, as compared with F. c. richardsoni , darker; lighter and more extensively spotted than F. c. suckleyi. 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 the same color. Av. size 38.1 x 30.5 (1.50 x 1.20). Season: c. May 1st; 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- ^0r' PIGEON HAWKS Distribution in Cali¬ fornia. — Rare summer resident in the mountains (Mammoth Lakes, June 26, 1919, 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. iii. , 1846, p. 46 (upper California); Coues, Birds of the Northwest, 1874, p. 345 (syn., desc., discussion of eggs, etc.); Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893, p. 109, pi. 16 (food) ; Grinnell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 11, 1915, p. 68 (status in Calif.); Howell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 12, 1917, p. 57 (s. Calif, ids.). THE PIGEON HAWK is preeminently a collector’s bird. Reports of occurrence are a cherished tradition with the fraternity, but positive 1631 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 little 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 mediaeval 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 1632 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 suckleyi 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. 32la Black Pigeon Hawk A. O. U. No. 357a. Falco columbarius suckleyi Ridgway. Synonyms. — Black 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. suckleyi), 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. 32lb 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, 1634 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 six 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. richardsoni. — 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. 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 richardsoni. 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. 1635 The American Kestrel No. 322 American Kestrel A. 0. U. No. 360. Cerchneis sparverius sparverius (Linnaeus). Synonyms. — Sparrow Hawk. Rusty-crowned Falcon. Desert Sparrow Hawk. 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-°6); 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. 1636 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, pi. 17 (food); Rising, 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. xviii., 1916, p. 1 12 (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. M oreover, 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, etc. The proper name for Cerchneis s. 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 Fuis 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 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 leet again with shrill cries of Killy, killy , hilly. To hear the snarling clamor of the birds, one would think that they were not 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, f t ' V$t \ I 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, or else 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 doubt, by a pair of hard¬ working Flickers ( Colaptes cafer collaris) who occupied fresher quarters hard by. And \d I Taken in the Sespe Photo by D. R. Dickey NEST AND EGGS OF AMERICAN KESTREL 1640 sj«i -Sh American Kestrel Male and female, about % life size 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 oological 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, 1/5-01 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 nuttalli) near Shandon. We are indebted to a fellow member of the Cooper Ornithological Club, Miss Althea R. Sherman, of National, Iowa, for a model study of the nesting habits of the American Sparrow Hawk.1 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. 406-4x8. 164I 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. 1 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 Photo by the Author SUNSET ON THE PALOPRTETA 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 4x9.1 (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 auduboni, and its accidental occurrence near Monterey1 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). I hat the 1 Harold Heath in The Condor, Vol. XXI., May, 1919* P* 123. The Osprey Caracara is a “terror to snakes” there can be no question, nor that he is a 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. Merrill1 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 haliaetus 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. 1644 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, duskv-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, etc. Eggs: 2 to 4; dull or buffy white, heavily spotted, blotched, or overspread with chocolate; rarely almost or quite unmarked. Av. size 62.2 x 46 (2.45 x 1. 81). Season: May 1-20; one brood. Range of Pandion haliaetus. — 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. iii. , 1846, p. 45 (Catalina Id., etc.) ■, Fisher, Hawks and Owls of the U. S., 1893^.130, pi. 18, (food, etc.); Sheldon, Condor, vol. ix., 1907, p. 187 (Eagle Lake; desc. nests) ; Grin- nell, Pac. Coast Avifauna, no. 11, 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 1645 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 oological intent, and uttering, therefore, feeble screams, or “whistles,” of protest, ki-ik, ki-ik, ki-ik. 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 1 have no desire to add to the burden of the long-suffering Osprey. Oological 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 account1 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, halia'etus haliaetus 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* 1 17-121. 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, I 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. , N. 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 164.8 White-tailed Kite About Vs life size From a