RMaV 'vjSG V / THE-C9HD9R HGlKGBZXWG- OB (Detss^mx ■ on,;njsBOTrOGY' 0/6 97 L/C E.dited by Walter Hi. FisHer JosepH Grinnell R. E.. Snodgrass William Lovell Finley Associates Volume VII 1905 Published Bi-Monthly by the Cooper Ornithological Club of California Palo Alto, California THE ONDOR A M^a^ine of Western^ OrnitHology j Volume VII January- February, 1905 Number 1 CONTENTS Young Red-tailed Hawks Fully Fledged, May 24th. .Herman T. Bohlman , Frontispiece Photographing the Aerie of a Western Red-tail . . William Lovell Finley , 7 photo- graphs by Herman T. Bohlman 3 An Untenable Theory of Bird Migration Wells W. Cooke 8 Old Fort Tejon Joseph Grinnell 9 Some Bird Notes from the Central Sierras Charles R. Keyes 13 Mr. William Dutcher, portrait 17 The California Sage Sparrow .Joseph Grinnell 18 Notes from Flathead, 1904 (photograph) P. M. Silloway 19 Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona Harry S. Swarth 22 A New Code of Nomenclature W. K. Fisher 29 EDITORIAL NOTES . , 31 Entered January 16, 1903, at Palo Alto, Cal., as second-class matter. SEPARATES Separates of articles in The Condor will be furnished by The Nace Printing Company, Santa Clara, Cal., at the following uniform rates. All orders for separates must accompany manuscript, and be written plainly at the head of the article. No separates can be furnished gratis. No. of Copies 50 75 100 2 Pages $ 90 I OO I 15 4 Pages $1 35 1 50 1 65 8 Pages $2 25 2 40 2 65 12 Pages $2 70 2 95 3 15 Cover and Title $1 00 I 25 I 50 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS Subscribers are particularly requested to send their subscriptions directly to Joseph Grinnell, by postal money order, ■ rather than through news-dealers, subscription agencies, or other middlemen. Subscriptions for 1905 are now due. Remit to Joseph Grinnell, Pasadena, Cal. Photographed by Herman T. Itolilman THE-C9ITD9R ./axuaG/rzirvec- of ® ffs G app • OI^UJGBOL 0 6Y- Volume VII J anuary-F ebruary, 1905 Number 1 Photographing the Aerie of a Western Red-tail BY WILLIAM LOVELL FINLEY ILLUSTRATED BY HERMAN T. BOHLMAN o' IF there is another red-tail in the county that has found a nesting site higher than the one in the cotton- wood over the bank of the Columbia river, we have never seen it. A red-tail likes a high commandingsite just asa mallard searches the sedge grass about the pond for a home. This pair of hawks surely found it. We would never have discovered the aerie, had we not searched the bottom when the trees were leafless. Finding a red-tail’s nest is very different in Oregon from what it is in California. You may look through the forest of tall firs till you are blind, or search the river bottoms for miles and not find the trace of a nest. But it seems that every little canyon of the California hills has its red-tail, and all you have to do to find a nest is to sit at the outlet and scan the trees with your field glass. We have found few nests that are absolutely beyond human touch, but it has taken a deal of photographer at work, ,20 ft. from the ground 4 THE CONDOR Vol. VII scheming and a risk of life and limb to reach some of them. We schemed for three different summers after we found this aerie of the red-tail before we finally suc- ceeded in leveling our camera at the eggs. The nest-tree measured over fourteen feet around at the bottom. There was not a limb for forty feet. The nest itself was lodged just one hundred and twenty feet up. It was out of the question to clamber up such a tree with climbers, ropes, or anything else, but we had an- other plan. We had spotted a young cottonwood just fifteen feet away. This might serve as a ladder so we chopped at the base till it began to totter. With ropes we pulled it over. The crown lodged in the branches of the first large limb of the nest-tree full forty feet up. This formed a shaky aerial bridge, up which we clambered a third of a distance to the nest. The anticipation led us on. We lassoed upper branches, dug our climbing- irons into the bark and worked slowly up. We found a stack of sticks the size of a small haycock. They were not pitched to- gether helter-skelter. A big nest like a hawk’s or heron’s always gives me the impress- ion that it is easily thrown together. I examined this one and found it as carefully woven as a wicker basket. It was strong at every point. Sticks over a yard in length and some as big as your wrist were all worked into a compact mass. In the hol- lowed top on some bark and leaves lay the two eggs. I never saw a more com- manding stronghold. It over looked the country for miles in evefy direction. From where the hawk-mother brooded her eggs I looked out far up the Columbia, and I POSITION OF NEST, SHOWING OPPOSITE LIMB FROM WHICH PHOTOGRAPHER WORKED Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 5 APRIL 1 5TH, THE TWO EGGS could see the cavern-cut slopes of Mt. Hood. Extending to the westward, was the long line of ponds and lakes, the redtail’s favorite hunting ground, while to the north lay the broad expanse of water and in the distance loomed up the dome-like peak of St. Helens, covered with perpetual snow. YOUNG IN DOWNY STATE, MAY 3RD 6 THE CONDOR Vol. VII How could we ever secure a good series of pictures at such a distance from the ground? It looked impossible at first, but a careful examination revealed a rare arrangement of nests and surroundings. If we could but hoist our equipment there was no question as to photographs. Eight feet below the aerie the trunk of the tree branched and spread in such a way that we could climb to a point just above the nest on the opposite limb. We strapped the camera in a crotch that seemed built for the purpose, with the sun coming from the right direction. The rub came in focusing the instrument. One hundred and twenty feet is not such a dizzy height when you stand on the ground and look up, but strap yourself to the limb of a tree and dangle out backward over the brink. No matter how strongthe rope, there’s a feeling of death creeping up and down every nerve in your body the first time 3'ou try it. The eggs of some hawks differ widely in marking, but the two we found in the cottonwood year after year were always of a bluish white tint, with pale lavender shell markings. The mother cradles her two eggs just about the first of April before the first buds begin to swell on the cottonwoods. The spring of 1902 the young birds hatched on April 20th. The picture of the birds in down was taken on May third. The third photograph was taken on May 18th, when the heads were still covered with downy white but the bodies were well feath- ered out. The fourth picture of the series was taken on May 24th when the young were al- most full grown (frontispiece). On the first day of June both the young hawks left the nest. This makes the period almost two months to the day from the time the eggs are laid till the at the base of the hawk tree youngsters make their debut in- to the world. We made a close study of the red-tail’s home in the tall cottonwood. He was always a successful hunter. In all our visits we never saw the time when his larder was empty. Nor did we find that we had to resort to the chicken yard for food. There was plenty of wild game. On the first visits we found the remains of quail and pheasants in the aerie. One morning we saw the mangled body of a screech owl; almost a case of hawk eat hawk. Later in the season when the banks of the Columbia overflowed, and covered most of the surrounding country, the old hawk did not abandon his own preserve. He turned his attention entirely to fishing. Where Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 7 the carp and catfish fed about the edges of the ponds he had no trouble in catching plenty to eat. Twice we found carp over a foot in length in the aerie. On our last visit we picked up the head bones of seven catfish in the nest. The wild life of the red-tail fascinates me. He has an individuality that is as interesting as a person. He has a character as clearly marked as in any feathered creature I ever studied. The bleak winter winds that sweep the valley of the Col- umbia and drive the other birds to the southland, never bother him. This is his permanent home. He is not a vagabond. He is local in attachments and habits. MAY 1 8TH , PARTLY FEATHERED This is his hunting ground. He won it by years of defence. He beats over the field and along the edge of the woods as regularly as the fishman casts his net. He has his favorite perch. He watches the pond as closely for carp as the farmer watches his orchard. His routine of life is as marked as any inhabitant along the river. Nor can I believe he is lacking in the sentiment of home. He adds sticks to his house and enlarges it year by year. Who can say that the old aerie is not fraught with many hawk memories of the past? a Portland , Oregon. a The photographs which illustrate this article Jare protected by copyright. The hawk here referred to is Buteo borealis calurus. 8 THE CONDOR VOL. VII An Untenable Theory of Bird Migration BY WEBBS W. COOKE SOME years ago Palmen advanced his theories of bird migration, which have not received much support among American ornithologists. One phase of his belief was favorably commented upon by a scientist in this country and has lately been brought so prominently into notice that a few words in regard to it at this time seem advisable, before the error makes further headway. Palmen’s theory has been stated as follows: “The annual migration route of a species indicates the way by which it original^ immigrated into its present breed- ing home.”" A few months ago Mr. C. C. Adams, of the University of Michigan, used this theory to explain the migration route of the Kirtland warbler ( Dendroica kirt- landi.)b In conversation with Mr. Adams I told him that I did not believe that theory was correct and he said he hoped I would write out its refutation. At the outset one is met by the fact that several species have different migra- tion routes spring and fall. The Connecticut warbler ( Geothlypis cigilis ) is one of the best known examples among land birds and the golden plover ( Cha - radrius dominions) among the water birds. Evidently both routes cannot be the original path of immigration and the theory will not hold for such species. The species Mr. Adams selects, the protlionotary warbler ( Protonotaria citrea ), is probably as good as any one that could be chosen to show the strong points in the belief. According to the theory, the prothonotary warblers of the Mississippi Valley spread northward following the retreating ice of the Glacial Period, and gradually worked up the river bottom, following the lead of the swampy bottom lands that form their natural home. Now year by year they follow back and forth over these river courses that marked their original entry into the country. However plausible this may seem to one who looks at the map of the Mississippi Valley and notes how the whole great river system seems especially adapted for a natural highway of bird migration, yet the argument fails when it attempts to answer the question: how did the birds originally get to the mouth of the Miss- issippi River to begin their extension up its watershed? It happens to be known that the prothonotary warblers of the Mississippi Valley pass neither to the west along the coast of Texas, nor to the east through Florida, but on arriving at the coast they make a flight across the Gulf of Mexico, here nearly at the widest. To my mind it seems an impossibility that any land bird should voluntarily take a flight across water for an unseen shore, unless it had previously learned the route by a gradual extension from a shorter flight, or was in company with some bird who had so learned it. Two suppositions are possible. First, that for- merly a chain of islands extended across the Gulf of Mexico, and that the birds having learned the way from southern Mexico to the United States, by way of these islands, continue to travel the same route after the islands have disappeared. Against this supposition is the fact that the Gulf of Mexico off the mouth of the Mississippi River is a vast abyss, with no indication that any of its central portioff has been above water since bird life appeared on the earth. This first supposi- tion then may be considered not available as an explanation of the manner in which the birds learned their course across the Gulf of Mexico. Recourse must be a Stejneger, American Naturalist, XXXIII, 1899, p. 68. b Bull. Mich. Orn. Club, V, 1904, pp. 14-21. •Jan., 1965 | THE CONDOR 9 had, therefore, to the second supposition which is that the birds learned this course gradually by an extension of a shorter course. It is known that at one time the Gulf of Mexico extended north approximately to what is now the mouth of the Ohio River. It is a fair presumption that at this time migrants passed by land from Mexico through what is now Texas to their summer homes in the Mississippi Valley. This course would be but little longer than the direct course across the Gulf. As time passed and the land began to ap- pear to the south of the mouth of the Ohio, the bird’s route would turn more and more to the east in northern Texas, while at the same time it is probable that the climatic conditions in southern Texas and northwestern Mexico became less favor- able to the support of a large population of forest loving birds. These two causes together probably induced the birds at first to follow close along the Texas coast to shorten the distance and obtain food; later to make short flights over the water, near to the shore, and still later to lengthen these flights, carrying the path of the flight continually to the eastward, until finally they adopted their present route across the full width of the Gulf of Mexico. It is believed by some that many of the birds of the eastern United States reached their present breeding grounds by way of a former extension of Honduras toward Cuba, and thence across that island to the Bahamas and Florida. The argu- ment is just the same whether it is supposed the route began in Texas and moved eastward or commenced in Cuba and moved westward. In either case the migra- tion route now used does not indicate the way by which the species “originally immigrated into its present breeding home.” Washington , D. C. Old Fort Tejon BY JOSEPH GRINNELE SCARCELY any locality in California could be named which would fail to afford at least a modicum of interest to the nature student. Yet Old Fort Tejon possesses an added attraction due to its position in the early history of California and its zoology, which cannot fail to continually draw more explorers in its direction in the future. Fort Tejon lies in a well watered valley which leads down from Tejon Pass towards the San Joaquin Valley. This Pass is the lowest one of the southern Sierras, 4200 feet, and was the one selected by the forty-niners who entered Cali- fornia by the way of the Mojave Desert. The Pass itself is in the extreme north- western corner of Los Angeles county, but Fort Tejon, five miles north, is beyond the boundry, in Kern county, and about a thousand feet lower. The old immigrant trail still shows in places, but is now for the most part replaced by the well graded State road which leads up from Antelope Valley (the extreme westward arm of the Mojave Desert) over Tejon Pass, down the valley and past Castac Lake (now dry) and Fort Tejon, and on down the steep and narrow Canada de las Uvas out into the San Joaquin Valley by the way of Rose’s Station to Bakersfield. They tell us that the military post was established at this point about 1850 in order to furnish protection to the immigrants through the mountains which were at that time infested with bands of Mexican bandits and renegade Indians. The ruins of the Fort buildings cover considerable ground, and point to the great im- IO THE CONDOR Vol. VII portance of the place. This importance, however, lasted but a few years, and was followed by complete abandonment. The roofs have been removed from most of the buildings with the result that a few winters’ rains reduce the adobe walls to low mounds of earth, in many places scarcely distinguishable from the surrounding ground. Earthquakes have also helped in this leveling process which will at the present rate before long result in the total obliteration of this, one of California’s most interesting land marks. The site is now owned privately and is part of the 25,000-acre Tejon Rancho which is devoted to cattle raising. My assistant, Joseph Dixon, and myself arrived by wagon with our collecting outfit on the 19th of July, and were fortunate in obtaining prompt permission from the major-domo of that part of the rancho to camp right at the Fort which is a quarter of a mile off the main road. For the whole country is fenced, and hunters and campers kept out for fear of starting fires or disturbing the stock. One of the Spanish vaqueros lives with his family in the best preserved of the adobe buildings, and I believe I never met a more hospitable gentlemen anywhere, and this was surely welcome. He helped us to locate on the best camping ground near a clear, cool spring, turned our horse into the best pasture close at hand, and gave us many a pointer as to the whereabouts of the different animals we were after. We set up our skinning-table under an immense white oak, said to be the largest in California. It was 27 feet in circumference at the base, and was only one of many others nearly as large which form a group in front of the rectangle formed by the Fort ruins. In fact the most impressive feature of the Tejon valley to one entering from the dry barren plains on either side, are the magnificent oak groves, interspersed with green pastures. What an oasis this must have looked to the early traveler who had gotten safely this far after his perilous journey across the desert. Many springs contribute to a fair-sized brook, which, lined with im- mense willows and lofty maples festooned with grapevines, takes its tumultuous way down the narrow gorge below the Fort to the San Joaquin Valley. The hill- sides were at the date of our visit brown with a heavy clothing of dry grass, while the northerly slopes were covered with clumps of horse-chestnut (. /Esculus ), the first to be met with towards the north. As the reader will have already suspected, such a region fairly swarms with animal life, as compared with the usual desert or semi-desert of southern California. Insects were abundant, and insectivorous birds and mammals were corresponding- ly numerous. I have never anywhere seen such great numbers of bats as made their appearance at early dusk. They made their way in veritable streams out of the attics of buildings, hollows of trees, and even crevices in the adobe walls. The mellow notes of poor-wills were to be heard of evenings, while by day troops of violet-green swallows skimmed back and forth over the meadows. A few western martins had nests safely ensconced in holes of lofty oaks. From the dense green foliage of maples and willows came the melodious songs of the Cassin and warbling vireos. Western kingbirds were plentiful, and from their perches in the more open places assailed any whose intent might be suspie- ioned. The old government rain gauge out in the middle of the long-forsaken parade ground had evidently been a favorite perch for many a year, for it was al- most completely filled with excrement. Traill flycatchers were exceptionally abundant in shaded places, and several of their nests were discovered in goose- berry bushes two to five feet above the ground. Black phoebes fluttered about the crumbled walls, while a family of young wood pewees was noted daily lined up on a barbed-wire fence, getting pointers from their elders on how to catch bees without getting stung. Jan., 1905 THE CONDOR 1 1 Among the finch family, lark sparrows were the most plentiful. Scattered flocks, often mixed with bluebirds and linnets, were continually flushed from the road-side through the dryer portions of the valley. About a tule-bordered pond were a number of song sparrows, which I was anxious to secure, because one of the subspecies was described from here. But the sparrows refused to be enticed into the open by any variety of curiosity-arousing squeaks we could produce. Most of the specimens finally procured came incidentally by way of our small mammal traps set for voles and harvest-mice and baited with rolled oats. A grosbeak and tow bee also fell victims to these indiscriminating contrivances. Of all the birds of the neighborhood, the most insistent upon our attention were the California woodpeckers. The oaks furnish these droll birds with a gen- erous livelihood, so they seem to have plenty of time for all sorts of nonsensical performances. Their medley of quavering nasal notes echoed among the oaks from daylight till dark. Sometimes a “carpintero,” as the vaqueros call this bird, would repair to the roof which yet remains on one of the large barracks and now used to shelter the hay crop, and selecting a loose shake, would pound on it for a half hour at a time, making as much noise as a lather, and evidently enjoying it. The wood-work under the eaves and around the doors and windows, which we were told had been shipped to California around the Horn, was perforated with holes made by the woodpeckers to fit the white-oak acorns. In some places the boards were quite symmetrically inlaid with acorns, just as the old doors were studded with wrought nails. Near the skinning-table was a baling-wire line stretched between two trees. On this the vaqueros had hung out a batch of meat in strips to dry. Most of this had been gathered in; but a few strands of beef suet still depended from the wflre, and to this woodpeckers and slender-billed nuthatches made many visits each day. They would either perch on the line or cling to the strips to peck off bits of the fat of which they seemed very fond. It was seldom that two woodpeckers re- mained peaceably feeding together very long at a time. One or the other would be driven off after much dodging and scolding. But it was no unusual thing to see a nuthatch and a woodpecker industriously pecking away at the same piece of jerky, apparently taking little notice of each other. From the grassy stretches high on the canyon sides could now and then be heard the wierd notes of the rufous-crowned sparrow, contrasted with the more sprightly song of the least vireo from the poison-oak clumps nearby. Outcrop- pings of rock on the hillsides below the Fort afforded congenial homes for the canyon and rock wrens, full-grown young of which were common. A surprise was afforded in the presence of the Sierra creeper, numbers of which were to be seen and heard in company with plain titmouses and nuthatches in a particularly dense grove of oaks below the Fort. Their faint wiry “tee, tee, te-deedle-de wee” re- minded us of the conifers of a higher zone. Ravens often flew by overhead in pairs, heads on one side, and croaking war- ily. One afternoon a flock of fully fifty convened on a neighboring hilltop. After an hour’s parleying and restless moving about, the whole band took flight circled upwards awhile, and then started off east on a bee-line, doubtless with intent to visit either the almond orchards or grasshoppery fields of Antelope Valley. Dixon discovered a number of ravens quietly bathing in a willow-skirted pond, and suc- ceeded in crawling within range unnoticed. As a result, the peaceful ablutions were interrupted, and a pair of these tantalizingly shy birds found their way into the collecting-chest. As is usual on stock ranges turkey buzzards were numerous; and the vaqueros 12 THE CONDOR Vol. VII maintained that condors, or “wietros” as they called them, are fairly common in the vicinity. We saw two condors circling above a carcass, and forthwith set out several steel traps around it, with hopes that almost amounted to certainty of se- curing one of the big birds within a day or two. But calves presumably walked into the traps and walked off with them before the vultures returned, if the latter did come back at all. The vaquero living at the Fort, declared that he often saw “wietros” bathe by dipping their heads into the long low watering-troughs, as the birds flew slowly past! Mourning doves were to be seen by hundreds, but valley quail were sparsely represented in the region. A family of six Cooper hawks were dealing relentless- ly with the smaller birds of the vicinity. We caught them in persuit of grosbeaks and linnets. A righteous satisfaction gradually grew within ourselves the while we “collected” the hawks one by one from day to day. We felt as if we were atoning for the songsters we killed ourselves. The few red-tailed hawks around evidently contented themselves with ground squirrels of which there was surely a plenteous supply. It is from a historical standpoint that Fort Tejon appeals to one with peculiar interest. During the Pacific Railway Surveys in the 50’s, that greatest western field naturalist of those times, John Xantus de Vesey, was located here for a time, and he sent to the Smithsonian Institution large collections of animals. The birds were many of them recorded by Baird in 1858 in Volume IX of the Pacific Rail- way Reports. But in July, 1856, Xantus published in the Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia a complete list of 144 species of birds which he had actually obtained “in the vicinity of Fort Tejon.” It is very evi- dent from a perusal of this article, which is merely a bare list of names, that his collecting had extended through the whole year, for it includes both summer and winter visitants and transients as well as permanent residents. Unfortunately Xantus failed to record the dates of capture for most if not all of his specimens; and also species are included which were very likely not taken within many miles of the Fort and whose precise locality therefore must always be in doubt. This is also true of other animals than birds; for example the type of a lizard ( Xcuitusia vigilis) is given as “Fort Tejon.” This animal is abundant in the tree yucca belt of the Mojave Desert. It strikes me as extremely probable that the type speci- men really came from there, not nearer than sixteen miles from Fort Tejon, and in an altogether different faunal area. Furthermore the tree yucca itself has been ascribed to Fort Tejon, but I am very sure it does not actually occur within sixteen miles; not so very far on the map, but a very long way off, faunally. Also the “pinyon and sage brush belt” does not include Fort Tejon as has been more re- cently averred, but begins at least four miles south and at a higher elevation, a big jump faunally. The abrupt changes in fauna and flora that take place within a very short distance from the coast slope and valleys towards the interior, are amazing, and to be comprehended must be actually seen and studied. The value of precise locality on labels, which was not recognized in early days, must now be considered of almost as much importance as the specimens themselves. The Xantus collection of birds from “Fort Tejon” afforded the types of several new species. Xantus himself described the spotted owl, Hammond flycatcher, and Cassin vireo; and Baird described as new the spurred towhee, thick-billed spar- row, and Heermann song sparrow. Besides Xantus, Fieutenant Williamson also collected at about the same time through ‘‘Tejon Valley.” In the 70’s H. W. Henshaw visited the locality, and in 1891 members of the Death Valley Expedi- tion passed through the region, making observations on birds which were published Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 13 in “North American Fauna No. 7.” As is evident, probably no other one interior locality has already received so much attention from Naturalists, and yet much new and valuable data doubtless await the future explorer of this locality still far from the influences of cultivation and the railroad. The following is a list of the birds detected during my brief visit, July 19 to 26, 1904, within two miles up and down the valley from Fort Tejon: Lophortyx californicus vallicolus Zeiiaidura macroura Gymnogyps californianus Cathartes aura Ac dpi ter cooperi Buteo borealis calurus I'alco sparverius phalcena Strix pratincola Megascops asio bendirei Bubo virginianus pacificus Dryobates villosus hyloscopus Dryobates pubescens turati Dryobates nuttalli Melanerpes formicivorus bairdi Colaptes cafer col tar is Phalcenoptilus nuttalli californicus Calypte anna Tyrannus verticalis Myiarchus cinerascens Sayornis nigricans Contopus richardsoni Empidonax trailli Aphelocoma californica Corvus corax sinuatus Icterus bullocki Euphagus cyanocephalus Carpodacus mexicanus frontalis Astragalinus psaltria hesperophilus Astragalinus lawrencei Chondestes grammacus strigatus Aimophila ruficeps Melospiza cinerea heermanni Pipilo maculatus" me galonyx Pipilo fuscus crissalis Zamelodia melanocephala capiialis Guiraca ccerulea lazula Cyanospiza amcena Progne subis hesperia Tachycineta thalassina lepida Vireo gilvus swainsoni Vireo solitarius cassitii Vireo pusillus albatus Dendroica' cestiva brewsteri Toxostoma redivivum pasadenense Salpinctes obsoletus Calherpcs mexicanus punctulatus Troglodytes aedon parkmani Certhia americana zclotes Sitia carolinensis aculeata Bceolophus inornatus Chamcca fasciata Psaltriparu s\minimus Polioptila ccerulea obscura Sia/ia mexicana occidentalis Some Bird Notes from the Central Sierras BY CHARLES R. KEYES DURING the late spring and early summer of 1903 a small party, including the writer, tramped with pack animals from Sonora to Fake Tahoe, thus passing through the central heavily timbered portion of the Sierra Ne- vada mountains. We left Sonora on May 27, crossed the north fork of the Stanis- laus river at Robinson’s Ferry and thence made a leisurely trip by the old Big Trees — Carson Valley stage road along the north bank of this river, the route tak- ing us through the Calaveras grove of sequoias, through Bear Valley and through the beautiful chain ot mountain meadows called Charity, Faith, and Hope Valleys. From the latter we left the old time stage road, now frequented by few except passing sheep and cattle men, and, turning northward through Futher’s Pass, soon descended into Fake Valley and finally concluded our itinerary, so far as H THE CONDOR VOL. VII tramping was concerned, on July 5th at Tallae on the southern shore of Lake Tahoe. Including numerous side trips, such as those to South Calaveras Grove, to various lakes about Glen Alpine, and finally the ascent of Mt. Tallae, we tramped about two hundred miles, at no time meeting with hardships and at all times surrounded by a nature surpassingly beautiful in its combination and suc- cession of forest and meadow and mountain. Notes were made on the birds seen throughout the trip and the opportunities for such study proved to be far richer than had been expected. The alleged “scar- city of birds in the High Sierras” could not at no time be a subject of reasonable complaint. Probably birds were not so abundant as in the plains and foothills of the lower altitudes, but one was seldom indeed removed from the sight of flitting forms and almost never from the sound of bird voices. The loud “querk” of the plumed partridge, the joyous quavers of the ruby-crowned kinglet and the serious- ly dignified song of the white-crowned sparrow were constantly in one’s ears dur- ing the days spent in the higher altitudes and the last named songster at least often continued his efforts until well into the night, when sleep had overcome one’s powers to observe and note. In a previous number of The Condor Mr. Barlow contributed his very thor- ough observations on the birds of the Placerville-Lake Tahoe stage road, a region lying mostly along the course of the American River to the north of the territory covered by our party and joining the region of our observations at Lake Tahoe. So far as the mere occurrence of species is concerned lists of birds found along the route studied by Mr. Barlow and on the one taken by us would differ but little, the faunal conditions evidently being very similar. About all I can hope to add in the way of notes from this region therefore will concern those species which acci- dent or unusual opportunity allowed me to observe with special success. I should say farther that in writing these notes I have kept in mind Mr. Belding’s accounts of the same species in his very valuable “Land Birds of the Pacific District.” Mr. Belding has covered at different times a considerable part of the very ground which it was my privilege to tread, my most interesting days with the birds being on what is apparently familiar and favorite ground to him, viz., Bear Valley in Al- pine county. I should like to say parenthetically that Mr. Blood, who last year completed his fortieth and, as he said, last year in charge of the toll and ranch in this mountain meadow, always spoke with unusual enthusiasm of the days when Mr. Belding came to hunt and study in this favored spot. It caused one to regret the fact that to many of us a personal acquaintance with our esteemed honorary member has not been possible. In the following notes I shall venture a few ob- servations on nine species of land birds only, namely, the plumed partridge, Wright flycatcher, white-crowned sparrow, Lincoln sparrow, thick-billed sparrow, tree swallow, phainopepla, pileolated warbler, and mountain chickadee. The plumed partridge ( Oreortyx pictus plumiferus ) had already assumed nup- tial cares apparently when we first reached its breeding range on June 1, a short distance below Avery at an altitude of 3000 feet. From here on to the end of the trip it was no uncommon sight to see a pair of these birds walking sedately along the road or across a forest opening, the male leading with plumes erect and the fe- male walking close behind. As I afterward learned this was usually an indication of an incompleted set of eggs in the near vicinity. At Bear Valley elevation 7015 feet, three occupied nests were found and two nests of the preceding year. A sixth occupied nest was found on Mt. Tallae. Eyesight alone was depended on to reveal a nest after having decided upon the approximate location from hearing the whistle of the male or seeing the pair walking about as mentioned. The nests Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 15 were all on the ground and, while always more or less concealed, yet it seemed to me that the rich buff-colored eggs were rather conspicuous objects. A single egg was first discovered on June 12 in a battered old nest of 1902, or possibly even an earlier date. The egg was a dried up specimen of chalky appearance, which had lost its original color and lustre, having lain under many feet of snow for one win- ter at least. The nest still showed a slight concavity, being protected under the outer edge of a mass of deer brush ( Ceanothus velutinus). On June 13 a nest full of egg-shells was found neatly tucked away along the northwest side of a small boulder and partly concealed by dwarf man/.anita. The shells seemed to repre- sent about eight eggs and still possessed their color and lustre to a remarkable de- gree. Evidently, however, these too had passed through a winter, for the snow had only recently disappeared from this locality and indeed still existed in isolated drifts of considerable magnitude. Acting on this clue I found two days later, June 15, a nest with seven eggs in a precisely similar situation and partly concealed by the same kind of dwarf manzanita sprays. It was composed of pine needles and was eight inches in diameter and three inches deep in the center. This nest was carefully observed during the remainder of our stay at Blood’s, or until June 21. On the 17th eight eggs were in the nest and another was laid on the 19th, appar- ently during the early morning. At eleven o’clock a. m. on the 20th, the nest still contained nine eggs but before one o’clock of the same day a tenth had been added. The female was on the nest at 10 a. m. the following day but I approached her too closely and she left the nest without having laid another egg. Whether she would have done so I did not determine, not caring to collect the bird and this being the last day of our stay at Blood’s. My fourth nest was also found on June 15, and like the other contained seven eggs. It was in rather an open situation under a Murray pine and five feet away from the trunk, was composed entirely of pine needles and measured nine inches in diameter and three inches in depth. Like the two last it was partially concealed by low sprigs of manzanita. Eight eggs were in the nest when visited the next day, the 16th, nine were found on the 1 8th, ten on the 20th and eleven on the 21st. These two cases then are not in agreement with Major Bendire’s statement that “an egg is laid daily until the set is complete. ”a The fifth nest was found on June 20 by tramping through deer brush near the place where a male had been heard calling for several days. It was the best concealed of any, being under quite a thick mass of ceanothus, though I hardly think I should have overlooked it, even though the female had not flushed with a great whirr of wings when I was three or four feet away from her. The nest was quite well constructed of coarse dry grass, a few small twigs, and many breast feathers from the bird. The measurements were the same as those of the last nest described and the eggs were twenty-two in number, laid in two layers, the lower of nineteen eggs with three on top in the center. The set was probably complete, as the bird was again flushed from the nest after an hour or two, though the eggs showed no entirely positive trace of incubation. The question naturally arises in case of a set of this size whether it might have been the joint product of two females. I could not decide this point and the eggs themselves did not make the matter clear. Both long ovate and short ovate forms were in the nest but there were also intermediates and the color tones showed but little variation. I might say in this connection that before I discovered this nest I was drawn away in the opposite direction for a considerable distance by a clucking sound which certainly came from a plumed quail. It was impossible to see the bird, however, a Bendire’s Life Histories of N. A. Birds, Vol. I, p. 16. i6 THE CONDOR Voi,. VII from the thickness of the brush, and finally I interpreted it as the ruse of the male to decoy me from the nest and so began to hunt in the other direction. If it could be shown that the male bird never clucks then some further light might possibly be shed on the question of the origin of this nestful of eggs. I am uninformed on this point. The sixth nest was found July 2 many miles from Blood’s on the slope of Mt. Tallac, close to where the trail sends off a branch to Susie Rake, the eleva- tion being about 8000 feet. The nest was under a dwarf laurel bush, was six and a half inches in diameter by two and a half inches deep, composed of a few twigs, pine needles and laurel leaves, and contained nine eggs. The bird was not to be seen at this time but was sitting on her eggs the next day at noon, when I watched her for some time. A tenth egg had been added. From the foregoing it certainly appears, as Mr. Belding says, that the plumed quail does not desert her nest for slight cause. All of the occupied nests were visited and examined more than once and two of them at frequent intervals for a week without disturbing the owners’ intentions in the least. The dainty little Wright flycatcher ( Empidonax wrighti) was observed only once when a nest, containing four fresh eggs on which the parent was sitting, was discovered in Bear Valley on June 20. This was placed in the forks of a small dead branch of a living ceanothus two feet above the ground. It measured three inches in diameter outwardly and the same in depth. The outer material was soft gray bark strips and the inner part was composed of fine brown bark fibers, hair, wool, and seven small gray feathers. The eggs were immaculate and pure white with but little gloss. A second nest of practically the same description and situ- ated in the same manner, except that the branch was alive throughout, was found on this same day and probably belonged to the same species. The nest was fin- ished but no eggs had yet been laid and the birds were not to be seen. The white-crowned sparrow (. Zonotrichia l. leucophrys ) was common in and about Bear Valley, but, on account of the bird’s shyness and because of my lack of acquaintance at first with its song, I did not realize this until several days had been spent there. On June 13 a nest was discovered by accident and with consid- erable difficulty the proper identification made, the bird flushing before one was near the nest and darting away through weeds and brush in a very perplexing wav. This nest was placed in a slight hollow on the ground in a patch of broad- leaved plants called locally “wild corn” ( Ver atrium calif ornicum). These plants were very characteristic of the damper places about the edges of the valley and were much frequented by the white-crowned sparrows and the pileolated warblers. They had attained a height of about eighteen inches at this time and so made ex- cellent retreats. Two other nests were found on June 15 and 17 situated in quite the same way, except that they were rather more on top of the ground than sunken into it. The one was in a patch of unidentified coarse-leaved herbage and the other in a thick mass of veratrium. One description will answer for all three nests. They were quite bulky, from six to eight inches in diameter outwardly and in- wardly two and a half inches across and the same in depth. The materials used were weed-stems for the foundations and fine dry grasses with a few horse hairs for lining Each nest contained four fresh eggs. The birds were shy in all cases and the nests could be located only by close search in such places as the experience in the first case had shown to be likely. It may be worth while to record a nest of Lincoln sparrow ( Melospiza lijicolni') as neither Mr. Barlow nor Mr. Belding make a definite record for the central Sierras. A nest with three half-fledged young was found in a small and very wet meadow near Susie Lake, just off the Mt. Tallac trail, on July 2. It was placed in Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 17 a bunch of dead grass and composed of the same material and a few hairs. Both parents approached me closely while at the nest. The disparity between the abundance of the thick-billed sparrow {Passer el la iliaca megarhyncha) in the Big Trees region and the number of nests that one can note in a week’s observation is very striking. One nest only was found, this be- ing at Gardner, elevation 4800 feet on June 8. It was placed in a small cedar two feet above the ground and contained three eggs in which the incubation was al- most completed. The nest materials used were stems, dry grass, and fine inner bark. The sitting bird was very tame and all but allowed me to touch her with my hand. The fact that the male kept close to the nest and sang lustily most of the time makes it all the more remarkable that the breeding habits of this species have been comparatively so little studied. We were compelled to leave Gradner before the eggs were hatched. ( To be concluded.) NR. WILLIAM DUTCHER We take pleasure in being able to publish the portrait of Mr. William Butcher, chairman of the A. O. U. Committee on the Protection of North American Birds, and chairman of the National Committee of Audubon Societies. For a number of years Mr. Butcher has been untiring and effective in his efforts to gain better pro- tection for North American birds. His success, in the face of innumerable diffi- culties, is well known to all ornithologists and bird lovers. Mr. Butcher’s earlier work was especially concerned with the birds of Tong Island, N. Y. With this issue of The Condor the series of portraits of American ornitholog- ists will be discontinued. In the editorial column will be found an announcement of interest. 1 8 THE CONDOR Vol. VII The California Sage Sparrow BY JOSEPH GRINNET.I, — • Amphispiza belli canescens new subspecies. Subspecific Characters — Resembles Amphispiza belli belli , but size somewhat greater, and coloration throughout very much paler; resembles Amphispiza belli nevadensis , but size very much less, and coloration slightly darker. Type — <$ adult; No. 5789, Coll. J. G.; Seymour Creek Meadow, 5500 feet elevation, Mount Pinos, Ventura County, California; June 27, 1904; collected by J. Grinnell. Description— Lower surface white; sides, flanks and crjssum faintly tinged with oehraceous buff, the former with narrow inconspicuous dusky shaft-streaks; sides of chest more distinctly streaked with slate; spot in middle of breast, submaxillary stripe, lores, region immediately beneath eyes, and extreme forehead, slate; spots above lores, one on forehead just back of cul- men, eyelids, maxillary region and throat, pure white; rest of head, including auricular region, sides of neck and nape, clear gray; back and rump drab gray; middle of back with narrow dusky shaft-streaks; wings and tail blackish, strongly edged with pale clay color; outer web of outer tail-feather, and inner web of same for about 2 millimeters at tip, abruptly white. Measureme n t s — A. b. nevadensis ( Wing Av. 80.2 Max. 82.5 Min. 7S 6 6 6 ( Tail Av. 81.2 Max. 85.5 Min. 79 A. b. nevadensis 1 Wing Av. 74.1 Max. 75 Min. 73 4 ? ? '( Tail Av. 76 Max. 76.5 Min, 75 A. b. canescens 1 Wing Av. 71 Max. 73 Min. 69 10 $ $ } Tail Av. 77 Max. 79 Min. 74 A. b. canescens t Wing Av. 67 Max. 68 Min. 65 7 ? ? 1 Tail Av. 73 Max. 75 Min. 71 A. b. belli \ Wing Av. 67.8 Max. 71 Min. 65 12 $6 / Tail Av. 74.2 Max. 77.5 Min. 70 A. b. belli i Wing Av. 64.7 Max. 66.5 Min. 63 i3 ? ? i Tail Av. 71 Max. 73 Min. 68 Range — The elevated Upper Sonoran and Transition sage valleys of the southern Sierras of California, slightly migratory to lower levels in winter. Specimens examined from: Piute Mts., northeastern Kern Co.; lower Cuddy Canyon, southern Kern Co., near Tejon Pass; valleys in im- mediate vicinity of Mt. Pinos, Ventura Co.; near Pine Flats, head of Tujunga Canyon, Sierra San Gabriel, Los Angeles Co.; San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles Co. (winter); Whitewater, Riverside Co. (winter). Remarks — This is the form which myself and others have repeatedly recorded from Los Angeles county as nevadensis. But that the two are altogether different is readily seen on comparison of the Los Angeles county specimens with true nevadensis from Nevada, Arizona, and the Colorado desert in southeastern Califor- nia. (In the latter two localities nevadensis occurs only in winter.) Although canescens presents characters in the aggregate fairly intermediate between belli and nevadensis , the gap is so definite between canescens and belli , that were it not for current rulings being overwhelmingly against it, I should not hesitate to con- sider them specifically distinct. Each of the three forms occupies separate breed- ing areas. But in the mountains of Los Angeles county, as I have already noted {Auk, XV, Jan. 1898, p. 58), canescens (recorded as nevadensis) and belli doubtless breed within a very short distance of one another. This is also probable in Ven- tura county where Mr. O. W. Howard has taken several sets of eggs of the “sage sparrow” {canescens) in Lockwood Valley three to five miles southeast of Mt. Pinos. The fact that in the extensive series of Amphispizae in the collection of the Cali- fornia Academy of Sciences, as well as among mv own specimens, not a single in- termediate is to be found between canescens and belli (or canescens and nevadensis , for that matter) argues for the distinctness of the forms. There is but one record that I can find of “intermediates” between belli and nevadensis. Dr. A. K. Fisher states in the Death Valley Report (N. Am. Fauna No. 7, May 1893, p. 98) that “the Jan., 1905 THE CONDOR 19 specimens collected along the east slope of the Sierra Nevada [near Olancha, Inyo county] in Owens Valley are almost intermediate, both in size and color, between Amphispiza belli and Amphispiza belli nevadensis." Dr. Fisher cites the same in- stance later (Auk, XV, April 1898, p. 190) as an argument against my contention that nevadensis is a distinct species from belli. Through the courtesy of Dr. Fisher I have just been enabled to examine these specimens, and I find they are unques- tionably referable to canescens, thus indicating the range of this form further northward. Their measurements are very slightly greater than those of my series of canescens previously presented, which points toward a possibility of inter- osculation between canescens and nevadensis still further north along the Sierras. But as I have already emphasized there is not yet the least evidence that canescens grades into belli geographically. This is the identical point of my contention in 1898, as above referred to; then 1 had specimens of catiescens in hand, calling them nevadensis as labeled by an eastern authority. It is therefore only under protest that I use the combination Amphispiza belli canescens , instead of Amphispiza nevadensis ca?iescens. Notes From Flathead, 1904 BY P. M. SI I.T.OWAY ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR IT had been reported to me by reliable observers that the varied thrush was nesting in the Flathead region of Montana, but I did not succeed in establish- ing the fact for record until this season. In the summer of 1903 I took adult specimens of the varied thrush ( Ixorens ncevius) at Swan Lake, about eight miles from Flathead Lake, and in the same summer collected a young thrush at Flathead which evidently had been out of the nest about two weeks. In 1904, however, I succeeded in finding a nest of this thrush. It came about in this way. Just across the Swan River from the University of Montana Biological Station there is a patch of undisturbed woodland used as a club ground for sportsmen. A road through this woodland is used daily by people who have settled in the neighborhood of the club grounds. Near the gate opening into the grounds is a by-path, along which I generally entered the grounds, as it is more shady and offered better facilities for collecting. Now on June 25, while passing along the woods road, I chanced upon a fledgling varied thrush which had left the nest but was yet unable to fly. I caught it with my hands as it hopped among the weeds at the edge of the woods. This event seemed quite singular to me, for the natives had told me that this thrush nests very early in the season; here was indisputable evidence, however, that the varied thrush was nesting in this particular piece of woods, and at a comparatively late time of the season. On July 5, I took another young varied thrush along the same road, near the place where I had taken the first specimen. This bird was flying about independently, though it was likely one of the brood to which the first be- longed. Thinking that the varied thrush season for nesting had closed, I gave no time to looking for nests; and of course the nest was found by accident. It was on July 12. On that day, instead of following the somber by-path, I entered the club grounds through the gate by the roadway. When scarcely 20 THE CONDOR Vol. VII twenty yards within the grounds, my attention was attracted by a female varied thrush chirping in the lower branches of a large conifer. I lost no time in collect- ing her, and soon went on my way rejoicing; but something about her peculiar action, in sitting there chirping as she had done, set me to thinking. I went back to the place, and looking over the locality, found a nest in a scrubby fir about twenty feet from the roadside. The affair did not look promising, for it appeared to be an old nest of olive-backed thrush, though somewhat larger. The site was eleven feet from the ground, on a horizonsal branch beside the main stem, a typ- ical site for the olive-back. Upon climbing to it, I found three eggs in the nest. It was a bulky structure, having an external framework of coarse twigs, with thick walls of lichen, bark, and dried grasses. The lining was of fine dried grass, the cavity being three inches and three and one-half inches across in various direc- tions, and one and seven-eights inches deep. In preparing the eggs, I found them incubated 50 per cent or more. Later dissection of the female showed that the set was complete. After packing the eggs, I went back to the station, got an axe, cut down the tree, cut out the section containing the nest, and later photo- graphed the nest in situ with the accompanying results. The male had not yet appeared, and I waited. While cutting down the tree, I heard several peculiar, long-drawn whistles in different keys, and I knew that he was in the neighborhood. For a long time he hesitated to come near, but kept in the tree tops out of sight, still calling. At length I attempted to respond to his calls, and presently he flitted nearer, finally alighting over my head in a tree at the edge of the woods. His was a most unusual call, a plaintive though loud whistle, uttered singly, each call in a different key from the preceeding utterance, as if he were practicing various tones of the musical scale, though he appeared to strike only three or four different tones. Several conclusions may be drawn from the finding of this nest. The fact is established that the varied thrush nests regularly as far eastward as Flathead Lake; it is also apparent that this thrush nests later than is generally supposed; and that under ordinary circumstances, after its first brood has left the nest, it hastens to rear another brood. Generally the nest-site is much lower than in the instance under consideration, according to the reports of native observers; and it was be- cause of this I did not think of making such a find at the time. Later examina- tion of the nest showed that the foundation and walls contained dried leaves and similar material which had dried in form, giving a solidity to the structure common to nests of other thrushes. This season for the first time I found the Tennessee warbler (. HelmintJiopliila pcreg7'ina) at home. Near the station there is a large willow swamp, annually overflowed and usually inaccessible because of mosquitoes; but this season there was a pleasant lack of such pests, and I spent many hours with the birds in the swamp. On June 29 my attention was attracted by a new song. At a favorable opportunity I captured the songster. He spent most of his time in the top of the lower undergrowth and shrubbery, but when taken he was singing vigorously among the larger willows. It proved to be a new bird to my Montana list, easily identified. Another male was singing as it gleaned among the foliage of dogwood and wfillow saplings, but at that time I had no need for it. Soon several males were found to be frequenting that part of the swamp, each appearing to have his little area. On several occasions I followed a singing male entirely around his little domain, and in the course of my visits to the swamp I learned the particular locality each male frequented. The center of operations of each was a little open- Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 21 ing among willows where there was a mossy bog and several cottonwood trees, with tangled dogwood and other shrubbery surrounding the area. On June 30 I spent most of the day watching the Tennessee warblers in this swamp. The males only were seen, and though I searched every bit of the area under observation and the shrubbery for many yards around the places, it appeared that I did not get near a nest, for the male would manifest no anxiety, merely moving farther away when I gradually drew nearer, and he would spend most of the time among the foliage. The songster would spend most ot the time among the stems in the lowest foliage of the swamp, apparently at a level of five to ten feet from the ground. The male Tennessee warbler is a most persistent songster, rivalling the red- eyed vireo in this respect. The song is very characteristic, as uttered by the dif- ferent performers in various localities of the swamp. It can be expressed as fol- lows: “Tuhwit, tuhwit, tuh wit, tzee tzee tzee tzee, chee chee chee chee. chee chee NEST AND EGGS OF THE VARIED THRUSH chee chee chee chee," expanding in power to the close, as is usual with many war- bler songs. In the three weeks that I spent, more or less, in searching the swamp for nests of this warbler, I did not hear any variations of the foregoing song, except perhaps some slighting of the opening syllables, or an omission of one or more of the “ chee ” in closing. Sunday, July 3, was fair and warm, and I spent the forenoon in the swamp searching for warbler nests. On that day I saw the first female warbler. She came flitting in the medium-sized aspens, at the edge of one of the little openings, and was carrying a blade of dried grass in her mouth. As I had just then chanced on a nest of red-eyed vireo, I thought at first that I was dealing with the female owner of the nest. The little superciliary streak of white lent color to the illusion; indeed, this warbler is not unlike a small pattern of the red eyed vireo. When she saw me she dropped her burden and chirped rather feebly around me. A 22 THE CONDOR Vol. VII male was singing nearby, though not so vigorously as usual while in that neigh- borhood. Alter chirping quietly near the place, the female flitted away and I saw her no more. I concluded that nest-building was then in progress, and decided to leave the warblers for awhile. Two weeks later, while at the same place I had seen the female carrying her nest material, I engaged the attention of two warblers, a male and a female. Dur- ing the hour I spent searching the shrubbery near the place, the two birds mani- fested much uneasiness, though chirping in their quiet fashion. I am as certain that there was a nest in the neighoorhood as anyone can be without ocular demonstration, but I failed to find it. though I searched both among the dead leaves on the ground and every bit of bush within fifty yards of that place as a center. During all this period, from June 20 to nearly the end of July, the males were in song, and were only silenced by the parching heat of the sultry July after- noons. It seems perfectly safe to assume that this warbler nests in Montana in the Flathead region, and further observation will verify the assumption. Lezvistown, Montana. Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona BY HARRY S. SWARTH SOUTH of Tucson, Arizona, along the banks of the Santa Cruz River, lies a region offering the greatest inducements to the ornithologist. The river, running underground for most of its course, rises to the surface at this point, and the bottom lands on either side are covered, miles in extent, with a thick growth ot giant mesquite trees, literally giants, for a person accustomed to the scrubby bush that grows everywhere in the desert regions of the southwest, can hardly believe that these fine trees, many of them sixty feet high and over, really belong to the same species. This magnificent grove is included in the Papago Indian reservation, which is the only reason for the trees surviving as long as they have, since elsewhere every mesquite large enough to be used as firewood has been ruthlessly cut down, to grow up again as a straggly bush. Twice, at about the same season of the year, it has been my good fortune to spend a short time studying the birds of this region. The first time was in 1902, when Mr. O. W. Howard and I spent a week, from May 17 to 23, in the mesquites; while my second visit to the place was in 1903, when Mr. F. Stephens and I ex- plored it pretty thoroughly during the first two weeks in June. Leaving Tucson on the afternoon of June 3, we had ourselves and outfit driven to a spot about at the edge of the big mesquite forest, some ten miles from town, and less than a mile from the old San Xavier Mission. But little could be done that day beside getting some order in camp, and the first thing the next morning we went to call on Mr. Berger, the Indian agent, to whom we explained our aims and objects. He at once gave us permission to camp as long as we de- sired, and to make ourselves at home in every way; with the added request, how- ever, that we refrain from shooting around the fields where the Indians were get- ting in hay. It seemed that some sportsmen (?) from town had on various occa- sions, in their reckless shooting, peppered the Indians with shot, a procedure to which Lo most unreasonably objected. Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 23 The first three days we devoted to exploring the mesquite forest, with most gratifying results. In the early morning the medley of bird songs wTas absolutely confusing, and the number of individuals of the many species found in this region, was far beyond what is usually the case in the lowlands of Arizona, w'here, al- though quite a variety of species may often be found, the conditions are not such as to support an abundance of animal life of any kind. A little later several days were spent in investigating the secrets hidden in the giant cactuses. Just north of our camp was a steep, circular hill, apparently of volcanic origin, covered with loose, black boulders, and rising abruptly from the fertile valley, like an island from the sea, other similar ones, being irregularly scattered through the valley. Aside from some thin, straggly larrea bushes, and a few small cactuses, the only vegetable growth on the hill was the giant cactus (Cereits giganteus), with wrhich huge plants the southern slope was thickly covered, there being none upon the opposite side. In working in the mes- quites we wrere always in the shade, and did not suffer much from the heat, but out on this hill, exposed to the full glare af the Arizona sun, we found it impossi- ble to work except in the early morning and late in the afternoon, being driven to shelter in the middle of the day. It is no joke to carry a twenty-foot ladder about on level ground, from one cactus to another, but on a steep hillside, stumbling over loose boulders, dodging cactus, and with the perspiration running in one’s eyes, a person feels that he earns pretty nearly all that he succeeds in getting. The cac- tuses on this barren, unattractive looking hill were partiealarly rich in bird life, and one or two species were found that did not seem to occur at all out on the flat, open mesa, though the elf owls were probably more abundant in the latter locality. On June 1 1, while miles from camp, Mr. Stephens and I were caught in a thunder shower. I suppose it is right to call it a shower, for it did not last many hours, but then the way in rains in Arizona it does not need to continue many hours before the heavens are emptied. We plodded back, ankle deep in water, along roads where we had kicked up clouds of dust on starting out in the morning; and that night the river rose so, that, had not the banks been worn fifteen or more feet deep by previous similar occurrences, one camp would have probably been washed away, and we would have been obliged to take to the trees. Two days later we left this place and started for the Santa Rita Mountains. All of one day we drove up the valley of the Santa Cruz, thirty miles or more, then, turning to the left, headed straight to the mountains, which we reached about noon of June 15. Our camp was pitched near the mouth of what appeared to be the best, almost the only, canyon of any size on the west side of the moun- tains. It was very broad, with widely extending slopes on either side, running up to a low saddle on the divide. The altitude at this point on the divide was 7400 feet, and at our camp 4500 feet. From the saddle, the mountain on the north ran up to a high granite peak, steep and nearly bare of vegetation, to an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet. Below the mountains the canyon continued in the shape of a deep, sharply defined ravine, extending for miles, but turning sharply to the south, so as to run nearly parallel with the range. This ravine was densely wooded with sycamore, oak, mesquite and other trees. The whole of the lower parts of the mountains were thickly covered with live oaks, and in the higher parts there was some, though not a great deal, pine timber. On the west side we found the mountains covered nearly everywhere with thick brush, and, in the higher parts, exceedingly steep and rough, so that it was impossible to travel in comfort anywhere but along the main canyon, and in one or two of its branches. In years gone by there was a great deal of timber taken out of these mountains, and traces l2!4 'THE CONDOR ; Vol. vn of the old roads used may still be seen in many places, though nearly overgrown with underbrush. At that time there seemed also to be a good deal of mining go- ing on, and there were probably many people living in the mountains. Now they seem almost deserted except for a few wandering prospectors and hunters. In many places we found the remains of old adobe houses, and about three miles be- low our camp was the site of the old abandoned Fort Buchanan. Under ordinary circumstances this should have been a place rich in bird life, and indeed Mr. Stephens found it so on a previous visit to the mountains in 1884, when he found several species then new to our fauna. We were much disap- pointed, however, in the great scarcity, both of birds and small mammals, the cause of which was not hard to surmise, for, for several years past the country had been suffering from a prolonged drought, the marks of which could be plainly seen in the numerous dead trees scattered along the canons. The last winter, however, had left plenty of snow on the mountains, and the heavy rain storm that occurred just before we reached them started the streams running in good shape, so there was plenty of water in the mountains while we were there; but many species of birds that had been driven away by the dry weather had not yet returned to their old haunts, and others that should have been abundant were very scarce. One effect of the drought was to cause many birds to refrain from breeding altogether; for individuals were taken of many of the species found in the mountains, that had evidently not been breeding, nor showed any intention of doing so. I have thought it best, the two localities being so entirely different, to make separate lists of the species seen along the Santa Cruz River, and in the Santa Rita Mountains. The first mentioned list is, I think, fairly complete, for I know of hardly any species that might be expected to occur in this region during the summer months that we failed to meet with. During the migrations it is different, for at such times there should be a great variety and number of birds found pass- ing through this region. The river valley runs practically due north and south, and, presenting an abundance of food, water and shelter in a comparatively re- stricted area, with a barren, practically desert, country on all sides, it forms a nat- ural highway, along which the majority of the birds passing through the region would naturally travel. The list of the Santa Rita Mountain birds is anything but complete, for we explored but a small part of the range, under very unfavorable circumstances. Many species have been taken that we failed to meet with, and still others, not yet recorded from the range, will probably be found there later. Such notes as were made, however, present some points of interest, and I give the list for what it is worth. BIRDS SEEN IN THE PAGAGO INDIAN RESERVATION Ardea v. anthonyi. Anthony Green Heron. Several that were seen along the Santa Cruz River were probably breeding somewhere in the vicinity, though no nests were found. Nycticorax n. naevius. Black-crowned Night Heron. Several seen in the same place as the last. Callipepla gambeli. Gambel Partridge. Breeds in considerable numbers throughout the mesquite forest. Broods of young were continually being met with, most of the juveniles being about the size of sparrows, though able to fly, and presenting a curious appearance as they buzzed away in all directions through the trees, like overgrown bumble bees or beetles. Zenaidura macroura. Mourning Dove. Quite abundant, but so overshadowed by the following species as hardly to be noticed. Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 25 Melopelia leucoptera. White-winged Dove. The Sonora dove of the natives. By far the most abundant bird in the mesquite forest, and also the most conspicu- ous and noisy. Though not particularly gregarious, at least not at this time of the year, white-winged doves were to be seen in all parts of the forest though but seldom out on the mesa; and while rarely out of sight, they were never out of hearing. The coo of this bird has been aptly compared to the sounds produced by a young cockerel just beginning to crow, and while this conveys some idea of the gasping, choking, disconnected nature of the outcry, no description can do justice to the effect produced by the united effort of thousands at once. They were not quite so noisy toward noon, during the heat of the day, but the noise they made morning and evening was such as to almost entirely drown the notes of the other birds; after a little the continual rumble they made, forming, as it were, a sort of back ground to the other sounds, was hardly noticed by us, except when some per- formers started to tune up near at hand. Judging from the individuals I watched, it seemed to call for considerable physical exertion for them to discharge themselves of the music with which their souls wrere burdened. A good many nests of this species were found, but nothing in proportion to the number of birds seen, and I am quite sure that the bulk of them were not breeding at this time. Many specimens of both sexes were taken that certainly were not. The nests were usually built rather low down, from five to twenty feet above the ground, generally below fifteen feet; and apparently with no attempt at concealment. When the female was flushed from the nest she usually fluttered away, simulating a broken wing, as the mourning dove does. Unfinished nests were found, and others containing young nearly ready to fly. Male birds, pre- sumably, were occasionally seen circling about with wings and tail rigidly out- spread, as the band-tailed pigeon does in the breeding season; but I never heard them make any such peculiar noise as the larger bird does at such times. Columbigallina p. pallescens. Mexican Ground Dove. Fairly abundant about the cultivated fields and in the pastures, and also in the more open places in the mesquites. None were seen in the thicker parts of the forest. The curious note so out of proportion to the size of the bird was occasionally heard, but not often, as they had not yet commenced to breed. They were usually found in small bunches of four or five, often whirring up from the grass or weeds in nearly as startling a manner as so many quail. It is rather singular that while quite a good many of the Inca dove {Scardafella inca ) were seen about the streets of Tucson, and in corrals and gardens, not a single one was met with anywhere out- side of the town. Cathartes aura. Turkey Vulture. Seen flying about overhead occasionally. Accipiter cooperi. Cooper Hawk. In May, 1902, Mr. O. W. Howard and myself secured two sets of eggs of this species in this region. On my second visit to the mesquites none of the birds were seen, though there were probably some about for all that. Parabuteo u. harrisi. Harris Hawk. On May 23, 1902 I vainly pursued an individual of this species that lit on a tree near our camp. It was the only one I saw in this region. Buteo b. calurus. Western Red-tail. One or two seen. A few nests of this species were seen on limbs of the giant cactuses on the mesa, but I think they are far more abundant along the base of the Santa Catalina Mountains, on the other side of the valley. Buteo swainsoni. Swainson Hawk. One or two seen along the Santa 26 THE CONDOR Vol. VII Cruz River, probably after lizards or frogs. They breed out on the open mesa, but do not seem to do so in the thick woods. Asturina plagiata. Mexican Goshawk. On June 4 a set of three, and on June 11 one of two eggs were secured. In the third week in Majq 1902, Mr. How- ard and I secured five sets of three eggs each in this same place. All the nests found were in the largest mesquites, built from forty to fifty feet from the ground, one that we measured being just forty-seven feet. Five of the birds were secured; the stomach of one contained some very young doves, apparently taken from the nest, another contained the remains of a quail, and the others held some large liz- ards. Those secured were all alike in the ordinary adult plumage, but two others were seen, possibly birds of the previous year, with longitudinal instead of trans- verse markings on the lower parts; and the female from which the set of two eggs was taken, was of a brownish coloration, so much darker than the others that at the first glance we were uncertain whether or not she was a Cooper hawk. They were rather noisy birds and could often be heard screaming as they flew about over the tree tops. Falco s. phaloena. Desert Sparrow Hawk. Common; breeding in giant cactus. In one hole young about ten days old were found, which, with claws and lu ngs, vigorously entered their protest at being handled. Polyborus cheriway. Audubon Caracara. Though not observed on the res- ervation, while we were returning from the Santa Ritas, on June 28, a single indi- vidual of this species was seen near the Santa Cruz River, feeding on some carrion in company with a number of turkey buzzards. Megascops a. cineraceus. Mexican Screech Owl. A single specimen was secured by Mr. Stephens, though others were heard hooting every evening. They breed in the giant cactus. Bubo v. pallescens. Western Horned Owl. Two were seen in the mes- quites, but not secured. Micropallas whitneyi. Elf Owl. This interesting little owl is so entirely re- stricted to the giant cactus, in the cool depths of which he finds a comfortable sum- mer home when everything outside is fairly sizzling with the heat, that in the breeding season, at least, it is almost useless to seek for them elsewhere. I have seen an odd bird or two in other places, and was with Mr. Howard when he secured a set of eggs from a hole in a mesquite tree, but such individuals are but the merest stragglers from the hundreds that occupy the cactuses on the surround- ing mesa. Mr. Stephens and I were too late for them and secured but a single set of eggs, but a great many young of all ages were found in the holes examined. The elf owl seems to be strictly nocturnal, and, when turned loose in the glaring sunlight, they were singularly helpless, in striking contrast to the little pigmy owl, which, in general appearance, they resemble so much. Judging from an examination of the contents of the stomachs of about twenty of the birds, I should say that they were entirely insectivorus in their diet, as nothing but the remains of beetles and other insects were found. Geococcyx californianus. Roadrunner. A few were seen in the mesquites. Coccyzus a. occidentalis. California Cuckoo. This species was more common in the mesquite forest than I have ever seen it anywhere else. As usual the birds were hard to see in the shrubbery, though we occasionafly caught sight of them crossing from one side of the river to the other; but their peculiar notes could be heard everywhere we went, and sometimes around the camp three or four could be heard calling at once. Some of the females secured had evidently laid part of their sets, but we were unable to find any nests. Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 27 Dryobates s. bairdi. Texan Woodpecker. Quite common in the big mesquites. Centurus uropygialis. Gila Woodpecker. The curious querulous note of this woodpecker could be heard everywhere in the mesquite forest, and many were found breeding in the giant cactus as well. Several nests full of half grown young were found in the latter locality. Colaptes c. collaris. Red-shafted Flicker, A very few individuals of this species were seen in the big mesquites. Colaptes chrysoides. Gilded Flicker. This is another species that appears to be restricted entirely to the giant cactus during the breeding season; a very few were seen in the mesquites, but not many, and no nests were found in that locality. The unfortunate flickers seem to have a big contract forced upon their hands, for they undoubtedly furnish most of the nesting sites occupied by the many species that have come to look upon the big cactus as their natural summer home. The Gila woodpeckers do some of the work, no doubt, but the}' breed in other trees more than in the cactus, and on the flickers fall most of the labor, needed to supply the sparrow hawks, owls, flycatchers, and others, with safe retreats. Of course the work is not as hard as chopping into hard mesquite or oak trees, hut still if the cactus is as yielding, and yet clinging to their hill, as it is to t lie col- lector’s hatchet, they are by no means to be envied their job. It is rather curious that, breeding close together, as C. chrysoides and C. c. collaris do in southern Arizona, more hybrids between the two are not found. I have seen but one. This bird, a male taken at Tucson, appears to be a true hybrid between the two species. It is about the size of chrysoides, and in general colora- tion is darker than that species, hut appreciably paler than collaris. There are no bright yellow feathers in either tail or wings, but in all the quills the red has a very washed out appearance, being much paler, more of a brick red, than is ever the case with collaris. In southern California, birds with more or less yellow in wings and tail are of fairly common occurrence, but I think that in all such cases it is due to intermixture with C. a. luteus , as indeed is shown in most cases by more or less distinct traces of the red nuchal crescent, of which there is no sign in the bird mentioned above. In the mountain regions of Arizona, where collaris breeds quite commonly, I have never seen chrysoides, nor do I know of any instance of the former species breeding in the giant cactus. As noted above, I saw a few red-shafted flickers in the mesquites along the Santa Cruz river, where they were probably breeding; and it seems strange that we should find the two species breeding almost side by side, practically without mixing, when we consider the extensive hybridization that takes place in the northwest, where collaris and luteus come together. Phalaenoptilus nuttalli. Poor-will. Frequently heard calling in the evenings, usually on the rocky, cactus-covered hill near the camp. Chordeiles a. texenis. Texan Nighthawk. Very abundant, though not seen in the thick woods. They undoubtedly bred in the vicinity, but though many were flushed from the ground, no eggs were found. Aeronautes melanoleucus. White-throated Swift. Occasionally seen flying overhead, having probably strayed down from the Santa Catalina Mountains. Trochilus alexandri. Black-chinned Hummingbird. A few were seen along the Santa Cruz River, no other species of hummingbird being observed anywhere in the vicinity. Tyrannus verticalis. Arkansas kingbird. Breeds around the edges of the mesquites and in the cottonwoods around the cultivated fields. I thought I saw vociferans, as well, once or twice, but could not make sure. 28 THE CONDOR Vol. VII Myiarchus m. magister. Arizona Crested Flycatcher. On the cactus covered hill north of our camp we found this species breeding quite abundantly, though none were seen out on the flat mesa; and had we remained in our camp in the mesquites, scarcely five hundred yards distant from the hill, I doubt if we would have known there were any of the birds around, so closely did they stick to their barren hillside. The birds were exceedingly noisy and quarrelsome, but very wary and hard to get a shot at, sitting at a safe distance when their nest was robbed, and uttering continually their loud, harsh call. Some eight or ten nests were examined, all very much alike. The cavities were all from fifteen to twenty- five feet from the ground, and I doubt that we found any nests more than half way up the hill. Most of the species occupying the cactuses were found nearer the base than the summit of the hill. The nests were all very much alike, being com- posed mainly of hair taken from dead horses and cattle, and smelling vilely. Usu- ally there were pieces of snake skin in the nests, and occasionally a mummified owl or woodpecker underneath. The number of eggs in a set ranged from three to five. Myiarchus cinerascens. Ash-throated Flycatcher. Breeds fairly abundantly in the mesquites. I have also found it nesting in the giant cactus, but not in any numbers. Empidonax trailli. Traill Flycatcher. Seen and heard in the mesquites along the river. Pyrocephalus r. mexicanus. Vermilion Flycatcher. A common and conspic- uous species, breeding everywhere in the mesquites. ( To be concluded .) A New Code of Nomenclature DURING the latter part of the fall semester of 1904, President Jordan of .Stanford Univer- sity delivered a series of lectures on nomenclature before the faculty and graduate students of the biological departments. After an introductory talk on the history of nomenclature, he devoted the remaining lectures to a discussion of the principles and canons of the A. O. U. Code. O11 several important points Dr. Jordan took issue with these. It is fortunate for students in general that Dr. Jordan’s wide practical experience with knotty problems in nomenclature is to be embodied in a new code, which will shortly appear under the joint authorship of Doctors J ordan, Evermann, and Gilbert. Dr. Jordan has kindly allowed me to make extracts from the manuscript, in advance of the regular publication. There are thirty canons in the new code, several of the A. O. U. canons having in many cases been condensed into one. These are followed at the end by short notes. Most of the canons of the A. O. U. code are now very generally accepted and need no explanation. I have made extracts only where the new code differs materially from that of the A. O. U. The paper is entitled “Nomenclature in Ichthyology. A Provisional Code Based on the Code of the American Ornithologists’ Union.” “The recent preparation of numerous papers in systematic ichthyology has necessitated the reconsideration of many problems of zoological nomenclature, and as some of these are not cov- ered by any canon in any recognized code, and again, as certain canons in the best considered of the various codes of nomenclature, that of the American Ornithologists’ Union, are not available in the study of fishes, we have ventured to draw up a code for our own use in ichthyology. “The value of a code depends not on the authority behind it, but solely 011 its simplicity, use- fulness, and naturalness. Formal agreements among groups of authors are always marked by compromises in which fitness and exactness are more or less sacrificed in the interest of unanim- ity of action. These compromises one and all are discarded in the progress of science. “The present statement represents therefore solely the present practice of the present authors. No one else is bound by it, and they will not be bound in the future in any case in which they find reason to believe that their present views are faulty. “The different canons in this code are based on those composing the code of the American Jan., 1905 | THE CONDOR 29 Ornithologists’ Union, and so far as possible the language of that admirable document has been followed. “We have, however, omitted certain matters which may be considered as self evident, and we have omitted all references to groups of higher than family rank. This has necessitated a change in the numbering of the different canons.” Canon VI of the new code differs from XVII of the A. O. U. chiefly in being simpler. “Pre- ference between competitive specific names published simultaneously in the same work, or in two works of the same actual or ostensible date (no exact date ascertainable), is to be decided as follows: “Of competitive names otherwise tenable, given by the same author, that one is to be pre- ferred which stands first in the text. In case of competitive names otherwise tenable, given by different authors of the same actual date so far as ascertainable, the one standing on the earlier page in its publication must be chosen. [Note.] The sole end of laws of nomenclature is that of fixity, and this is to be ensured only by the elimination among names once printed, of all element of choice by later authors. Even among twins, the laws of primogeniture recognizes one as first born. So with names on the same page. “Canon VII. [Compare A. O. U. XVIII] In case of competitive generic names otherwise tenable, published simultaneously in the same work, preference shall be given to the one stand- ing first in the work. Of competitive generic names of the same actual or ostensible date (no exact date being ascertainable) given by differeut authors, that one is to be taken which is pro- posed on the earlier page of the volume in which it appears. When the same generic name is given to two distinct genera of animals at the same date (as far as ascertainable), the name ap- pearing on the earlier page shall be deemed to have precedence.” Canon X differs widely from the A. O. U. rulings. Compare with XXI, XXIII. “The type of a genus can be indicated by the original author only. This may be done by direct statement that a certain species is a type species, the leading species, the “chef de file,” or by other phrase- ology conveying the same idea; it may be indicated by the choice of a Linnaean or other specific name as the name of a genus, or by some statement which shall clearly indicate an idea in the author’s mind corresponding in fact, if not in name to the modern conception of the type of a genus. The type of a Linnaean genus must be, in the phraseology attributed to Linnaeus, ‘the best known European or officinal species,’ included by that author within that genus. “In every case, the determination of the type of a genus shall rest on evidence offered by the original author, and shall be in no wise affected by restrictions or modifications of the genus in question introduced by subsequent authors, nor shall the views or the dates of subsequent authors be considered as affecting the assignment of the type of a genus. [Note.] It is believed that the principle that a generic name must be fixed by its original author is one of vital importance in nomenclature. All processes of fixing types by elimination or by any other means resting on subsequent literature, lead only to confusion and to the frittering of time on irrelevant ques- tions. The method of elimination cannot be so defined as to lead to constant results in different hands. In general it is much more difficult to know to what types subsequent authors have restricted any name than to know what the original author would have chosen as his type. Most early writers who have dealt with Linnaean species have consciously or unconsciously en- croached on the Linnaean groups rather than made definite restrictions in the meaning of the generic names. “Canon XI. [Compare with A. O. U. XXIV] In case a genus requiring subdivision or modification contains as originally formed more than one species, and the author of the genus does not in any way clearly indicate its type, the first species named in the text by the author as certainly belonging to this genus shall be considered as its type. [Note.] It can never be unjust to an author to regard his first named species as his type, and it can never lead to confusion to let the genus stand or fall with this first species. The same remark applies to composite species. “Canon XVII. [Second paragraph] As a name is a word without necessary meaning, and as names are identified by their orthography, a generic name (typographical errors corrected) is dis- tinct from all others not spelled in exactly the same way. Questions of etymology are not perti- nent in case of adoption or rejection of names deemed preoccupied. [Note.] This canon prohibits change of names because prior names of similar sound or etymology exist. It permits the use of generic names of like origin but of different genders or termination to remain tenable. All man- ner of confusion has been brought into nomenclature by the change of names because others nearly the same are in use. Thus the Ornithologists’ Union sanction the cancellation of Eremo- phila because of the earlier genus Eremophilus , of Parula because of the earlier Parulus, and of Helminthophaga on account of Heminthophagus. O11 the other hand, Pica and Picas are allowed. In ornithology this matter has been handled by a general agreement on the relatively 30 THE CONDOR Vol. VII few cases concerned. But in other groups, the matter is by no means simple, and every degree of similarity can be found. Thus the genus Cantherines is preceded by Acanthorhinus , a correct rendering of the same etymology; Canthiderniis by Acanthoderma, also a correct form of the same word; Thymallus is preceded by Thymalus , Lyopsetta by Liopsetta. Rafinesque changes Hiodon because it sounds too much like Diodon ; frachidermis has been altered on account of its resemblance to Tr achy derma, Ateleopus on account of its resemblance to Atelopus. “Between forms like Pachynathus, antedated by the correctly spelled PachygJiathus, and Aplodontia , antedated by the more correct Haplodon , and Aplodou, every sort of case may be found. If all names are regarded as different unless spelled alike, these matters offer no difficulty. Any other view gives no assurance of stability.” Although there are several other points of difference of a very minor nature, I shall close this short abstract with the following well-considered canon, a portion of which, as will be seen, departs considerably from present usage in ornithology and mammalogy. “Canon XXIX. The authority for a specific or subspecific name is the first describer of the species or subspecies. A name adopted from manuscripts should be ascribed to the person indi- cated as author in the original publication, whether this person be the author of the memoir in which the name occurs or not. * * * [Note] This canon deprecates the practice of ascrib- ing to the author of a paper descriptions and names furnished him in courtesy or otherwise by some other author. If a writer ascribes one of his species to some one else, we must take his word for it. Thus the manuscript species of Kuhl and VanHasselt in the Museum of Leyden, although printed bv Cuvier and Valenciennes, should be ascribed to Kuhl and Van Hasselt.” W. K. Fisher. EDITORIAL NOTES ALTHOUGH Tiie Condor can hardly be classed among “popular” journals (at least the business manager does not believe his accounts will justify such a view), nevertheless a word or two concerning the coming year may be of interest to club members. Our mag- azine corresponds to the “proceedings” of some scientific societies and consequently de- pends almost wholly upon the efforts of the club members. It is manifestly impossible, there- fore, to provide an array of special features in advance, nor is it at all desirable to do so. The special features always depend upon the efforts of the editor and in so far as they occupy the body of the magazine they crowd out contributed material. There is an element of danger also, that if too much is provided in advance the members may tend to lose their sense of responsibility. During the past two years we have published a number of portraits of American ornitholog- ists. The series has been very incomplete, in some cases because we could not secure the necessary photographs and consent, but mostly on acconnt of scarcity of room and funds. As noted on another page this series will be discontinued for the present. Beginning with the March-April issue we will commence a similar series of portraits of eminent European ornitholo- gists, publishing from two to four photographs in each number. So far as we are aware this has never been attempted before. It should prove a feature of exceptional value to everyone inter- ested in the personal and historical sides of ornithology. In an early issue, also, will appear a facsimile page of manuscript from the pen of Prince Charles Lucian Bonaparte. Mr. Emerson will relate something concerning its history and the rather dramatic manner in which it came to light. Inasmuch as it is well-nigh impossible to prognosticate just what the coming year has in store for the readers of The Condor, the contents of this volume upon which we are now enter- ing must be gauged largely by the standard of that just completed. So far as the name of an author is an index to the standard — and it is a good index we believe — we take pleasure in an- nouncing in advance the following contributors to volume seven: Florence Merriam Bailey, Vernon Bailey, Lyman Belding, Herman T. Bolilman, Herbert Brown, William Lovell Finley, A. K. Fisher, Louis Agassis Fuertes, Joseph Grinnell, Rev. S. H. Goodwin, Henry B. Kaeding, Leverett Mills Loomis, Joseph Mailliard, Edgar A. Mearns, E. W. Nelson, Harry C. Oberholser, Wilfred H. Osgood, William W. Price, P. M. Silloway. As a special message to members of the club let us again remind them that the interest and value of a publication such as The Condor must always depend upon the representative charact- Jan., 1905 THE CONDOR 3i er of the list of contributors, in other words upon the members' full and active cooperation. They must be the principal supporters of the enterprise. An editor is, unfortunately, a necessary evil, but he cannot be expected to undertake responsibilities which rightfully belong with the club at large. In other words it is desirable that the members furnish the editor with a large assortment of articles, that he may be less limited in his choice of material. The editor is a clearing-house for all sorts of complaints. One coterie of readers loudly calls for ‘‘popular articles” (whatever that may mean) while another and smaller circle prefers the more serious material. The only criticism we are lead to make is that, in the past, the table of contents might have been more var- ied in several instances had our opportunity for choice been less limited. We consequently re- quest all to unite and do their little toward improving the magazine. Parenthetically, we desire to ask those who are not accustomed to write for publication to be brief, to the point, and to pre- serve a reasonable unity. It is frequently necessary to condense articles, owing to the exigencies of space, and it is not always possible to give anaesthetics before applying the blue-pencil. There is just one feature of The Condor for the coming year which merits special mention, that is, the illustrations. We consider that we have been very fortunate in securing the coopera- tion of Mr. William Lovell Finley and Mr. Herman T. Bohlman of Portland, Oregon, who will contribute to each issue. Mr. Bohlman’s photographs of western birds are of exceptional merit, and rank with the best that have ever been secured. Indeed, considering the difficulties which were overcome in many instances, his best work has been seldom equalled, judging solely from published results. AT PRESENT there is a lively interest in ‘‘nature photography” and especially in photographs of wild animals. Of late years hunting with the camera has come to be considered one of the most satisfying of sports. It is certainly the most difficult to prosecute successfully. Almost anv one is able to shoot birds, or even large game, but there are relatively few who possess patience and alertness sufficient to capture the same creatures with a camera. Photographs of birds are of greatlv varying values from the rigidly^ scientific standpoint. But nearly all are beautiful, and ex- cite our admiration for one reason or another. Probably the most valuable photographs are those which show clearly some fact of the bird's life history or especially elucidate the creature’s rela- tionship with its environment. Occasionally a portrait of a bird may be very beautiful to look upon, and yet when analyzed may show nothing more than the life habit. This of course is desir- able knowledge, but scarcely so important as the life history. Figures of nests are likely to be disappointing unless carefully taken. Usually the most valuable pictures are the most difficult to procure. Those who have never attempted to photograph a live bird, especially a shy one, know little of the nerve-racking work which was necessary to secure the better photographs published during the past few years. The general reader is likely to glance casually at such an illustration without taking in what it reallv represents beyond face value. It has been no uncommon thing for Mr. Bohlman and Mr. Finley to risk life and limb in tall trees, or on cliffy rocks off the Oregon coast. The same experience has been shared by nearly all of the more daring photographers. Every ornithologist knows of the cliff performances of the Kearton brothers. Let the reader, for example, pause a moment to consider the ri.k and work necessary to secure the admirable series of photographs illustrating the growth of the red-tailed hawk, published in this issue. Was there ever a form of hunting that could compare with this? Or, considering the trouble, has a filcher of hawk or eagle eggs in re- cent years such a contribution to offer as this series of photographs. It may be difficult to climb one hundred and twenty feet to secure two egg shells for a plethoric cabinet. It is vastly more diffi- cult and worth while to secure such photographs. As a “gold-cure” for acute cases of the “egg habit” we cordially recommend the camera. IS THERE growing in the minds of some ornithologists an intolerance for the efforts of the obscure beginner, or tor the work of the amateur “without proper connections”? During the past two years we have seen in several places hints at such a sentiment which has recently found utterance in a very unqualified form. On page 18 1 of December Bird- Lore, Ernest Thomp- son Seton says: “The experts of our museums are the only ones who should be allowed to col- lect bird skins today. It is safe to say they will not abuse the privilege. Knowing the value of birds as they do, better than any other class of men, they are not likely to take the life of a sparrow, even, without a very sufficient justification.” .Shades of Audubon and Coues! Whither, pray? This approaches pretty near the “limit”! We would like the serious ornith- ologist to consider, for a moment, the first sentence. The second would be important if not partially vitiated by evidence to the contrary. The third, unfortunately, has its exceptions. Possibly they prove the rule. We must remember that, as in the past so in the present, a very large proportion of original ornithological knowledge is being contributed by persons who 32 THE CONDOR Vol. VII THE CONDOR An Illustrated Magazine of Western Ornithology Published Bi-monthly by the Cooper Ornithologi- cal Club of California WALTER. K. FISHER, Editor, Palo Alto JOSEPH OR INN ELL, Business Manager and Associate Editor, Pasadena R. E. SNODGRASS, Associate Editor Palo Alto, California: Published Jan. 17, 1905 SUBSCRIPTION RATES Price in the United States, Canada, Mexico, and U. S. Colonies one dollar a year; single copies twentv-five cents. Price in all countries in the International Postal Union one dollar and a quarter a year. Subscriptions should be sent to the Business Manager; manuscripts and exchanges to the Editor. EDITORIAL NOTES (' Continued ) have no connection whatever with museums or institutions of any sort. Examine the list of field ornithologists who contributed to Bendire’s “Life Histories.” Few are of the class Mr. Seton would endow with special privileges. Scan the last volume of The Auk. What pro- portion of articles are contributed by men con- nected with museums as compared with those who are not! Practically all the ornithologists west of the Mississippi would go out of commis- sion if this sentiment prevailed. With legiti- mate bird protection we have perfect and un- qualified sympathy, but we have little patience with the wild flights of ultra-enthusiasts. As we hinted above this idea is not new by any means. It has come from high places and is having a little effect on the younger generation. If the discouragement of the gun leads to a closer study of the life histories, well and good, but practical experience teaches that the gun should not be abandoned, as is so often advo- cated. The substitution of “total abstinence” for the old time method is likely to have one serious result, which is already being slightly felt. It favors a growth of the rankest sort of dilletantism; and if the “new and proper” ten- denency is to prevail will we not in time have the serious ornithologist giving way to what Dr. Coues might have termed a “superficial ornitho- phile”? Of course we do not favor that every Thomas, Richard, and Henry shall be allowed unlimited freedom with firearms but we do think the unconsidered condemnation of the gun about a century premature. Owing to demands on available space it has been necessary to omit several pages of reviews which were intended for this number, as well as the usual “From Field and Study,” and the directory of club members. The last two, at any rate, will appear in March. We regret having been obliged to publish Mr. Keyes’s ar- ticle in two portions, but the concluding instal- ment will be in the next issue. The same is true for Mr. Swarth’s paper. Indeed we have been so crowded this month that the title page for volume VII must be deferred till November. Last year we printed it as a part of the first is- sue. Prof. Cooke’s article was read at the twenty-second Congress of the A. O. U., Novem- ber 29th. It is not a pleasant task to be continually harping on the money question but the printer, unfortunately, has to pay his help. Consider- ing the excellent work that he is now turning out, club members should make it a matter of pride to be prompt with dues. The same re- mark applies to subscribers, who are receiving The Condor at bare cost price. We would have no occasion for these observations had not the business manager sent us recently a pitiful wail concerning editorial extravagance, ending with the assertion that he could not collect funds as fast as we are determined to spend them. He further assures us that money is coming in slowly. If the members and sub- scribers wish us to maintain the present stand- ard they will have to do their part. Besides, pity the business manager; his is a hard lot, managing an extravagant editor. There is no reason why we should not have 400 members as well as 225, our present num- ber. If every member would send us one name the trick could be done in a jiffy. The growth of the club is due to the alertness of about 15 people. That all the bird people in the west are not enrolled in very evident. Will not every member ivho reads this make a resolution to send us one new name before the March meet- ing? It is very easily done, and will mean a better magazine and a larger one. Friends of the California Academy of Sciences will be glad to know that the amendment to the Constitution of California exempting the institution from taxation received about 11,000 majority of favorable notes. The exact figures are; for the amendment, 73,207; against, 62,275. The annual dinner, announced in the last is- sue, was held at Jules's Restaurant, 315 Pine St., San Francisco, January 14, at 7 P. M. An ac- count of the meeting will appear in the next issue. Messrs. Joseph Mailliard and Joseph Grinnell spent a portion of the Christmas holidays or- nithologizing near Victorville, California. Mr. William L. Finley gave two lectures il- lustrated with lantern slides at the meeting of the A. O. U. in Cambridge. Mr. Finley is now at Santa Monica. Members who notice errors in their address will do well to send a card of correction before the publication of the directory in the next number. A remarkable series of flamingo photographs and a very interesting article are contributed to the December Century by Mr. Frank M. Chap- man, a member of the Cooper Club and Editor of Bird- Lore. r 'Ttl X JuL X# ONDOR A Ms*.gs>.«in.e of WesteTrv OmitKology J Volume VII MercH-April, 1905 Number 2 CONTENTS The Prairie Falcon Louis Agassiz Fuertes Frontispiece A Note on the Prairie Falcon Louis Agassiz Fuertes 35 Do Birds Migrate Along Their Ancient Immigration Routes?. . . Leonhard Stejneger 36 Breeding Notes from New Mexico Florence Merriam Bailey 39 Portraits of Dr. Philip Lutley Sclater, Prof. Dr. Jean Cabanis, Mr. Howard Saunders, and Count von Tschusi zu Schmidhoffen 41 Some Bird Notes from the Central Sierras (concluded) Charles R. Keyes 42 Fac-simile Page from First Draft of Bonaparte’s American Ornithology 44-45 A Manuscript of Charles Lucian Bonaparte (with portrait) W. Otto Emerson 46 Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona (continued) Harry S. Swarth 47 Nest of Golden Eagle, in a Bluff near Arroyo Grande, California (photograph) R. B. Moran 50 FROM FIELD AND STUDY Notes by W. K. Fisher, Joseph Grinnell, S. H. Goodwin, H. W. Marsden, C. H. Richardson, Jr., J. S. Hunter, Joseph Mailliard, John J. Williams 51-53 EDITORIAL NOTES California Bird Law, Notes on work of Sclater, Cabanis, Saunders and von Tschusi' zu Schmidhoffen, etc 54 From Field and Study (continued) 55 News Notes , 56 THE AMERICAN BIRD MAGAZINE Profusely illustrated with Photographs of Wild Birds from Life. Fresh, inter- esting, and instructive Bird Literature. Everything original. Each number contains Ten Birds in Natural Colors For identifications Monthly, $1.00 per year Single Copies IO cents Everyone subscribing now is entitled to a Life - sized Enlargement of the “Chippy Family” in natural colors, on paper 12x20 inches. This is prob- ably the best photograph ever taken of an entire family of live wild birds. SPECIAL * ^ ^ To all who mention “The Condor” we will send Vol. I and II, and sub- scriptions for 1903, with the “Chippy Family,’’ for $2.50. Address American Ornithology w£f§®ter> The ©oloj^ist Is Growing Every Day Grooving a Larger Subscription List Growing Better Every Day WHY? Because we aim to give our subscribers what they want as far as possible. If you are forming a collection of bird skins, birds eggs or bird photos; if you need bird literature; if you have any of these to dispose of; in any case you need “The Oologist.” We reach the people interested in these hobbies every month. We keep you posted on the little things you cannot afford to miss. Try the “Oologist1 a year and be convinced. Published every mouth, only 50 cents a year with free exchange or sale notice. Sample copy for stamp. Address, BRNBST H. SHORT Editor and Manager CHILI, .... NEW YORK The Prairie Falcon Falco mexicaiius Drawn by Louis Agassiz Fuertes THE-C9TTD9R ® US S ftRTi, ' Oig\reB CD O GY- Volume VII MarcK-A.pril 1905 Number 2 A Note on the Prairie Falcon BY LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES WITH A DRAWING BY THE AUTHOR AFTER a month or more in the field in California, Dr. C. Hart Merriam, Frank M. Chapman, W. W. Price and myself reached Pyramid Fake, Ne- vada, on the desert side of the Sierras, about July 8, 1903, whither we went to make a study of the great white pelican rookery. But whether pelicans, Pahiutes, or prairie falcons interested us most it would be hard to tell — and cer- tainly the splendid Pyramid Fake trout was not least among the attractions of the region. The central part of the island adopted by the pelicans for their colony rises some four hundred feet, in the form of a great concretion, sloping steeply on the north, and precipitous and cliffy on the south. The lower “bench,” by far the greater part of the island’s area, was occupied by the pelicans, but the castellated dome in the center was usurped and tenaciously held by a pair of prairie falcons and their three grown young, and the bird from which this study was made was killed (almost in self-defence) well toward the crest on the cliff-like southern ac- clivity. All about this point, which I took to be near the eyry, were strewn the feathers of quails and jays, which must have been carried from the mainland, no- where less than a mile and a half distant. As I looked down from my position at a height on the wall like face of the cliff, the yellow rock merged into the chalky levels below, where the huddling herds of young pecilans crowded together; then came the white alkali beach, which lost itself in the wonderful blue of Pyramid Fake — the most glorious color water ever had. And against this marvellous color, the blistering sun gleaming on their broad snowy backs and wings, the old pelicans soared magnificently be- low me, while the falcons screamed in the clear air around my head. I think this was one of the most striking experiences I ever had, and I stood a long time im- bibing the varied new sensations of sound and color before I at last turned my steps downward to join the ‘census bureau’ on the lower levels, where Dr. Mer- 36 THE CONDOR | Voe. VII riatn and Mr. Chapman were diligently counting the young pelicans in the rooker- ies. And when, finally, the work was done, and we went back to the boats and our Indians rowed us away from the curious bird cities on the island, it was near- ly night, and long before we had crossed the seven miles of water that lay before us the wonderful evening fell, the almost peacock blue of the water faded and be- came purple, violet, and at last, as the full moon rose over the jagged horizon all settled into the cool gray night of the desert. Ithaca , N. Y. Do Birds Migrate along their Ancient Immigration Routes? BY EEONHARD STEJNEGER UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM N THE last number of The Condor Prof. W. W. Cooke has an article entitled “An Untenable Theory of Bird Migration’’ intended as a refuta- tion of Palmen’s theory, which in a paper not specially devoted to bird migration I had briefly stated in its generality as follows: “The annual migration route of a species indicates the way by which it originally immigrated into its present breeding home.” His laudable aim is to stop this “error" before it makes further headway “in this country.” And wherein consists this refutation of this untenable theory and error ? The negative exam- ple of Protonotaria citrea which, it is claimed, can- not have immigrated into its present breeding home by a portion of its migration route, viz., that part which lies between southern Mexico and the mouth of the Mississippi River! He gives an explanation of how it may have hap- pened that the prothonotary warbler now apparently makes a direct flight across the Gulf of Mexico, and if examined closely it will be found that this explanation, so far from being a refutation is merely a slight modification of the theory. But even if Prof. Cooke’s example were shown to be diametrically opposite to Palmen’s theory, the latter was never meant or never said to include all and every kind of migration route kept by the thousands of species. No doubt many routes have been deeply modified by comparatively recent topographical and hydro- graphical changes. In others the modifications have been less marked, in few per- haps there have been no modifications in details. But that does not affect the truth of Palmen’s generalization in its wider applicability, nor make it an “unten- able” theory, much less an “error.” To “refute” this hypothesis which has stood the test of nearly forty years, it is not enough to prove that there are some birds which go to their breeding grounds by other routes, but it must be shown that the vast majority do not go by the original immigration route. Even were it demon- strated that the theory holds only for a limited number of species it could not be dismissed as untenable and erroneous. I may also call attention to the fact that when I referred to Palmen’s theory March, 1905 | IMMIGRATION ROUTES 37 as quoted above, it was worded in general terms, because the theory in its details is so well known — and moreover it was not done in an attempt to give an inde- pendent presentation of it but simply to apply it to a given ease. And yet I was careful to use the word “ indicate ” as I was not unmindful of the fact that there are cases which cannot be explaimed on this theory alone, whether the reason be that they are simply so great modifications that we are as yet unable to see through the the complication, or cases for which another theory must eventually be framed. Prof. Cooke at the outset calls attention to the “several species” which have different migration routes spring and fall and by the annihilating remark that “ evidently both routes cannot be the original path0 of migration” he seems to think that he has refuted Palmen’s theory at least so far as these species are concerned. But, pray, why “evidently” ? It is quite thinkable , at least, that the two routes are simultaneous. Suppose, namely, that a species extended its range northward with a broad front along a wide stretch of land bounded east and west by the wide sea. It is conceivable that the climatic and food conditions were so different spring and fall on the two opposite coasts that it might have been highly beneficial for the bird to migrate alternately along the east and west shores, and I, at least, can see no impossibility in some migration routes originating in this way. On the other hand, one of the migration routes, probably the one in spring, may indicate the original way of immigration, while the other may be a much later modification. But now for the route of the prothonotary warbler and the route it follows. Prof. Cooke, in the article alluded to, says that it is known that those of the Missis- sippi Valley “pass neither to the west along the coast of Texas, nor to the east through Florida* but on arriving at the coast they make a flight across the Gulf of Mexico, here nearly at the widest.” He then goes on to show how he thinks the route once was further west at a time when the sea stood much higher and that the birds wandered along the coasts (then far inland) of Mexico and Texas; that as the land rose the birds straightened out the kink in the route and thus came to cross the Gulf where it is at the widest. He next makes the admission that others think the birds once migrated farther east, in the direction of Cuba, and later straightened out that kink by moving the route farther west. Apparently Prof. Cooke is willing to take either horn, for both “refute” Palmen’s theory. But this admission proves conclusively that Prof. Cooke does not know just where the route of the prothonotary warblers lies across the Gulf of Mexico once they are out of sight of land. In his “Distribution and Migration of the North American Warblers” (Bull. 18, Biol. Surv., [904) he plainly shows that the bird in question probably passes along the coast of Campeche, and also that during migrations it, occasionally, at least, touches Cuba and Florida, though he does not believe it passes through southern Florida, as it only becomes more numerous farther north. The great stumbling block in Prof. Cooke’s way apparently is the improbabil- ity of there having existed formerly a “chain of islands” from southern Mexico to the Mississippi, because of “the fact that the Gulf of Mexico off the mouth of the Mississippi River is avast abyss, with no indication that any of its central portion has been above water since bird life appeared on the earth.” This seems to be a very risky statement for a non-geologist to make, since it a Path is Prof. Cooke’s nomenclature. I spoke of the 'way” of immigration which in many cases undoubtedly involves a wide tract of territory. Birds might immigrate with a very broad front and yet they may migrate along comparatively narrow routes. It is essential to maintain this distinction. b Note well the difference between the expressions, “ along the coast of Texas” and "through Florida.” 38 THE CONDOR VOL. VII is one of the very “facts" about which the geomorphists are now holding the most diverging views. Let me quote a few sentences from a paper by Dr. J. W. Spen- cer as late as May, 1898: “It would thus appear that these regions (West Indian region) stood from ten thousand to twelve thousand feet, or in some localities four- teen thousand feet, higher than now;” and further on: “The time of greatest eleva- tion and development of the West Indian continent was during the early Pleisto- cene period.’’ This brings us surely to the time of the origin of bird migration, //conditions were as Prof. Spencer thinks, there is no impossibility of the pro- thonotary warblers’ migration route, no matter how it lies across the Gulf of Mex- ico, indicating the way by which they originally immigrated into the United States. Now, Prof. Cooke will probably answer that there are geologists who hold quite opposite views and that he sides with them, because if they are right, it would be easy to “refute” Palmen’s theory. But would it? Prof. Cooke speaks of the “central portion” of the Gulf as being involved. There is no necessity for such an assumption, however. Do away with an elevation of twelve thousand feet and let us be satisfied with 100 fathoms!0' Take any map showing the 100 fathom contour in the Gulf of Mexico and the drowned valleys from the Mississippi to the Tampa, audit will be found that the whole distance from land to land, if it were raised up to this level, would be 183 miles! Now draw a hypothetical mi- gration route from the northeastern corner of the thus enlarged Yucatan (Cam- peche Bank) northeasterly until it strikes the westwardly extended Florida, and let this line proceed in a northerly to northwesterly direction along the 100 fathom curve to the mouth of the Mississippi sending offside routes up the drowned valley of the Tampa, Suwanee, Appalachicola and other rivers, and you have a route which would explain many features of the migration of the prothonotary warbler, which now are mysterious, and at the same time indicate the way by which it may have originally immigrated into the United States. It would have been very interesting to have gone into these questions in greater detail, but, unfortunately, time and space are limited. All I wanted to show is that Palmen’s theory cannot be disposed of in this off-hand manner. To stop the error from making further headway in this country will require weightier argu- ments than those I have tried to meet today. Wash ington , D. C., Jan. 23, 1903. c It must be distinctly understood that this quotation of Dr. Spencer’s views does not indicate my adoption of them, d An elevation of 600 feet is necessary to bring the 100 fathom line on the west side of Florida up to the present sea-level, if the rise is supposed to be horizontal. Dr. W. H. Dali has indicated, however, that the last rise of the peninsula (subsequent to the one I refer to) “elevated the Atlantic border with its reefs more than the gulf shores.’’ In case of such a tilting it will be sufficient for my purpose to assume a mean elevation of less than 200 feet in orderto insure a shore line 140 to 150 miles west of the present one during that period of the Pleistocene when “the rhino- ceros, the wild horse, the llama, the Columbian elephant, the mastodon, the glyptodon, and various enormous tor. toises wandered along the shores of the lakes and through the marshes (of Florida) while the sabre-toothed tiger lay in wait.” Surely, the landscape suggested by this quotation might well invite the invasion of the prothonotary warbler in the United States! March, 1905 | 39 Breeding Notes from New Mexico0 BY FLORENCE MERRIAM BAILEY OUR Biological Survey work in New Mexico in 1904 took us into the high Rockies during the latter part of the avian breeding season. Between 9500 feet, at the lower edge of the Canadian zone and 12,700 feet at the upper edge of the Hudsonian zone, among the birds that we found feeding young during the last week in July and the first week in August were such species as Picoides a. dorsalis, Empidonax dijpicilis, Zonotrichia leucophrys, Junco caniceps , Me- lospiza li?icolni , Piranga ludoviciana , Tachycineta t. lepida, Vireo g. swain- soni , Dendroica auduboni, Ant has pensilvanicus , Myadestes townsendi , Hylocichla g. auduboni, and Merula m. propinqua. Pinicola e. montan a was doubtless also of the number as the throat of one shot was stuffed out with small seeds and insects ap- parently collected for its young. The glacial amphitheater at the foot of Wheeler Peak was richly populated with the mountain-loving white crowns or striped-heads, as the Indians of the region aptly call them. I he willows in the bottom of the amphitheater above the high water level of the lake were full of them and they were common up to timber- line. The only nest that we found was in a spruce bush at our 1 1 400 foot camp, but young were being fed all about us. The sparrows might have been taken for flycatchers by a novice, for they were constantly springing up in the air in pursuit of insects. So eager was their chase that they not only flew into the air but actu- ally ran down into the water after insects. This we discovered one morning on visiting the lake. The white crowns, in company with Lincoln sparrows, were busily flying back and forth from the willows to the edge of the lake, hopping out onto the stones and wading into the water. We were puzzled at first to know what they were about, but on looking closely saw that the bottom of the lake and the stones along the edge were covered with the sandy tubes of caddice fly larvae from which the flies with their long wings were rapidly emerging. As the caddice flies came out of their cases the birds snapped them up eagerly, flying off with them to their nests. When the hatching process was too slow the sparrows flew up into the air after those that had escaped them. Other species of birds were equally busy, the violet greens, western flycatch- ers, Audubon warblers, and solitaires, in flycatching; the three-toed woodpeckers in digging out wood-boring larvae for their hungry broods. But while the sum- mer resident birds were thus absorbed with their young families, the resident early breeders had not altogether set their young adrift. The handsome black and white nutcrackers (Nnci/raga columbiana') were flying back and forth hunting for insects on the slopes above timberline, and although March and April seem to cover their normal breeding period, the insistant and comparatively weak voices of immature birds were heard as late as the last of July. One bird of the year which came to camp on July 27 was still under the active guardianship of its parent and was seen fluttering its wings for food, though the hint was ignored. A young Rocky Mountain jay {Perisoreus c. capitalis) was also seen fluttering its wings on July 26. Indeed, when our camp in the spruces was first discovered by a pair of these friendly birds — on July 20 — after testing our camp biscuits they flew off, to return promptly with one of their grown brood, readily distinguished a Published with the permission of Dr. C. Hart Merriam, Chief of U. S. Biological Survey. 40 THE CONDOR | Vol. VII by its smoky crown. How long the nutcrackers and jays remain in families, and whether the jays look after their young later than the nutcrackers, whose vertical migration to the pifion belt begins in August, perhaps only mountaineers can tell us. Butin cases of early accident to a normal spring breed, a second brood could doubtless be reared before cold weather even at such high altitudes. Some such explanation might apply in the case of a pair of golden eagles ( Aqirila chrysaetos ) which we encountered in coming down out of the Taos Moun- tains through Hondo Canyon in August. The canyon with its timbered sides, its cliffs and bold rock towers afforded good eagle country, and when our outfit halted at 8000 feet by a grove of young spruces that promised to supply a needed tent pole, my attention was attracted by two of the noble birds flying back and forth across the slope of the canyon wall. While holding the horses I noted idly, but witli the satisfaction one feels in intelligent work, that the eagles seemed to be hunting over different beats, and also that they saved themselves work by flying back and forth almost without a wing stroke, merely tilting their outspread oblong wings at different angles to act as sails. Occasionally one would light in a small pine top for a few moments, and in descending to the tree one at least showed a white base to its tail. Sounds of dropping came from the spruces and I thought impatiently of the Helminthophilas we were anxious to hunt in the willows down the canyon, when suddenly the eagles claimed all my attention. One of them was proceeding calmly across a slope when its companion started and flew straight out to it. On the in- stant the one approached shot away, rising high in air, to come sweeping down again magnificently on set wings. The whole performance had such an appear- ance of coquettish courtship play that it suggested the booming of the nighthawk. What did it mean — in August? As I was pondering in bewilderment, Mr. Bailey, tent pole in hand, emerged from the spruces, and when I pointed excitedly to the eagles, got out his field glasses to watch developments. In a moment, to our sur- prise, the two birds lit side by side, on the face of the cliff, as it seemed at our distance. Focusing the glass sharply on them however, Mr. Bailey exclaimed, “They’re sitting on the edge of a nest — a big stick nest on a ledge!” This was indeed a surprise. Could they be birds of the year — one had the white tail — re- visiting their old home? Or were they, perchance, a pair hunting food for a belated brood, though the normal breeding time is from December to March. What was it ? As we speculated, first one bird and then the other pitched off the cliff and resumed sailing. Presently, however, one of them flew to a tall tree, lit on a dead branch, gave a jerk and a backward flap and flew off, the broken branch bristling beneath its feet. It made its way quickly back to the nest which when closely examined with the glass proved to have a top layer of freshly broken sticks. We looked at each other in amazement, finally exclaiming, “Eagles — building — the tenth of August!” Washington , D. C. March, 1905 | PORTRAITS OF EUROPEAN ORNITHOLOGISTS 4i DR PHILIP LUTLEY SCLATER LONDON PROF. DR. JEAN CABANIS FRIEDRICHSHAGEN, NEAR BERLIN MR. HOWARD SAUNDERS LONDON 42 Voi„ VII Some Bird Notes from the Central Sierras BY CHARLES R. KEYES (' Concluded from page if) BUT little mention seems to have been made of the tree swallow ( Tachycinela bicolor') from the higher altitudes of this region. They were fairly common at Blood’s and especially toward evening they would come and circle about Mr. Blood’s barn in company with the cliff swallows, which had here a nesting colony. On the afternoon of June 14 nearly a score of them were present and, as they eddied about over the meadow and around the buildings, the air seemed alter- nately to be fdled now with tree and now with cliff swallows. Although the two species appeared to be playing together, yet it seemed that the succeeding waves of flight were made up of one species only. No nesting sites were noted in Bear Valley, though the species was found breeding near Blue Lakes, elevation 8000 feet, and also at Lake Tahoe, as noted by Mr. Beck and cited by Mr. Barlow. The nest seen near Blue Lakes on June 23 was in a hole in a Murray pine eighteen feet above the ground and two feet above a burrow of Williamson sapsucker ( Spliyrapicus thyroideus ), which was also occupied. The sapsucker's nest con- tained noisy young. The contents of the swallow’s nest remained undetermined, it being necessary at this point to keep up with our party and procession of burros. Mr. Belding mentions the presence of the phainopepla ( Phainompla nitens) both summer and winter in the foothills of Calaveras county. To fix its occurrence at the 2000 foot elevation a few miles north of latitude 38°, I shall record it as apparently common at Douglas Flat on May 31. It should be said that the country here is essentially of a foothill nature, however. A small area of arable land exists here jnst below the belts of the yellow and sugar pines and the immediate surroundings are barren. I say the bird was ap- parently common from the fact that single birds or pairs of birds usually the latter flying along rapidly and close together could be recorded every few minutes during the two midday hours that we spent here. Never more than three birds were seen at one time, so it would be difficult to say just how numerous the species really was. They flew about in a nervous manner and were difficult to approach. Their chief attraction was some cherry trees belonging to the ranch where we stopped, the fruit being ripe and furnishing food to the phainopeplas, as we had occasion to witness. A mummified specimen was incidentally found hanging in one of the trees, a victim, I judged, of the ranchman’s gun. Next to the Audubon warbler the pileolated warbler ( Wilsonia pusilla pileolata) was most frequently noted, being seen at all altitudes but with especial frequency among the willows and dwarf aspens of such meadows as Bear Valley. I would hardly call it, however, a really common bird. On June 17 I noticed a small nest which later proved to belong to this species, fitted snugly into a slight hollow of the ground in a scattered growth of veratrum. The spot was close to a small stream and very damp. It was evidently a new nest and completed, so I waited some minutes in hopes of seeing the builder but without results. The following day the nest contained an egg but no bird could be attracted to the spot. An egg was added daily thereafter until the 21st, when, with four eggs in the nest, the fe- male was found sitting and so tame that I could approach within two feet of her. The nest was a considerable mass of weed stems, dry leaves and grass and the in- ner cavity, which was an inch and a half deep and the same in diameter, was lined with fine grass and white cow hair. March, 1905 | BIRD NOTES FROM THE CENTRAL SIERRAS 43 Of all Sierra birds none seemed to possess a greater breadth and depth of char- acter and none impressed its individuality more deeply upon us travelers than the stout-hearted little mountain chickadee (Pams gambeli). From Big Trees on to end of the trip he was ever with us and, while always tending strictly to his own affairs and resenting any intrusion on his own, he was yet far from unsociable and his clear high-pitched notes helped to interpret the spirit of the forest and the mountain. In every way he seemed to justify his position of high development among birds to which he has been assigned. His independence of thought (or is it only instinct?) and action were well shown in his defense of his home. The sitting bird would either slip quietly from its nest when danger was still afar off or would resolutely refuse to budge at all. The sound emitted by a sitting moun- tain chickadee when disturbed was, in my experience, rather that of a sudden ex- pulsion of air from the lungs than that of the hiss of a snake, as Mr. Barlow de- scribes it.a The explosive sound was accompanied by a very decided beat of both wings against the sides and bottom of the nest cavity. Seven nests were noted in all, four of them being in the usual nesting sites between three and eighteen feet above the ground, as given in Mrs. Bailey’s Handbook. The other three pairs re- fused to be bound by the ordinary rules for conventional chickadees and placed their homes at less ambitious elevations. One pair chose a small and well protected natural cavity in a living juniper and built the nest at a height of twelve inches from the ground, the entrance being eight inches higher and quite small. This nest contained on June 19 seven unspotted eggs nearly ready to hatch. Another pair made use of a small burnt tamarack stump which contained a natural cavity, the rather small opening of which was just twelve inches above the ground. This cavity was straight and vertical and slightly over twelve inches in depth, so that the nest was on an exact level with the surface of the ground. This nest contained five fresh spotted eggs on June 17 on which the parent was sitting. The third pair of birds worthy of particular mention had their home in a natural cavity of a big pine stump near Blood’s corral. The entrance was an inch wide, one and a half inches high, quite regular in shape and exactly one inch above the ground. The cavity sloped slightly downward for ten inches to the nest, which was thus eight inches at least beneath the surface of the soil. The nest was observed several times on June 21, the parent sometimes leaving the nest hole when I was still some dis- tance off and again refusing to leave on any provocation. Seven unspotted eggs constituted the complement and from appearances I judged them to be advanced in incubation. In case of most of these nests it was of course necessary to enlarge the entrance somewhat in order to arrive at the desired information. So far as I observed this did not in any case cause the birds to forsake their nests. Of water birds only five species were noted on the entire trip, viz., Forster tern, black tern, spotted sandpiper, killdeer, and an unidentified duck. My notes on these are hardly satisfactory enough to justify any lengthening of the present article. An early summer trip to the Sierras is both a thing to be enjoyed in the mak- ing and a memory of incomparable worth. All the better if one may allow the birds to add to the joys inspired by grand scenery and mountain air. One may well repeat Belding’s and Barlow’s advice to visit these mountains for oneself or Muir’s enthusiastic cry: “Come to the mountains and see!” Mt. Vernon , Iowa. a The Condor, III, p. 113. FAC-SIMILE PAGE FROM FIRST DRAFT OF BONAPARTE’S AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY r / L,ja/rrutud v^it/Vg^ ttt 7/Ay . /ffr. _ • £ 2. . tZyn ■ At*'??’ , ^y . Cy , 6*t/ z7 / i^y .I t t'm r< -y er-'K^cl'l A FzAA /- / ' ■ 4 3/r • FA A' A szAAAo, /Z^A yZZA . £Fa ? jc . 46? • A A^, , 7. /A.A.* rfi-m-/7. ssr/7iZr. U s^, A_, ZAAc-Zj x)a-uJ) Tr/t -J7 ,/t ^/7A^r ^r /Ao^-v / (77+isns ZA'*/A/y+-*-/7 ^ C" • / Zy ■ — *Z7z7/- .pZ^tCks . /yf? ■ '>&'/' ■ ■ /Ji A " A- ^A" TtAAjCyt, StZ z^r. zr y7 /7// AA/A-^Az A 2/ t ^Fz^aF-AF /iy^' <^'y t-^*-' SLi~* J. <*-< A /^f. r At' }'r At a . {jsivxAj ^Jl^AA /^A AAtAAt^ urA**-* ^FcF / 2 e^ia^c^ Az AzZAZi > t<^i***+*-c • AA/F'FaAA1 a A Kasivu /•. ^ . f^- /t 1— fAF*-r A' yL4^ *7*t4AzU^**4**4^<*r14,^*4A£AF*-+*^ ^ - /£*- *J$S. /** F tfF h-CO A*-*2^' -44^ -4 -)6/^'4- , ^o*. 'A T CU-J^ b>*^ $*> Ft. uy +*4*7/ juL+s{£*t' jF+v C*f $^C/~ 4LA~2F%f -* FF ^TFAZA -^%ZzT 0^/^FF^'F' ^Acy^/F^tF ’ -Z*F^4ZsA$Q o - 2< g- *AAAA U^-4t^-7 46 | Vox,. VII A Manuscript of Charles Lucian Bonaparte BY W. OTTO EMERSON WHEN the Cooper homestead was vacated last summer I was permitted to look over a rubbish heap of catalogues, pamphlets, and odds and ends, such as are usually consigned to the lire on an occasion of this sort. Among a great variety of relics of past literary activity I came across a bundle of man- uscript written by Prince Charles Lucian Bonaparte. Examination proved this to CHARLES LUCIAN BONAPARTE FROM A LITHOGRAPH LOANED BY MR. RUTH VEN DEANE be the first draft of the well-known “American Ornithology. ”a Volume I, which was published in 1825, was not in the bundle, volumes II to IV being represented. The fac-simile page here reproduced is natural size. Any doubts as to the authen- ticity of the manuscript were set at rest by a comparison of the writing with sev- eral signatures of Bonaparte, and also by a slip of paper, bearing in the hand- a. This “American Ornithology” is sometimes united with Wilson’s. It is a district work, however, entitled: “American | Ornithology | or, | The Natural History | of | Birds inhabiting the United States | not given by Wilson. | With figures drawn, engraved and colored from Nature. | By Charles U[ucian] Bonaparte | [in MS — Prince of Musignano | A. M. F. M. L. S. — all titles dropped in third volume]. Vol. I [-XV] | Philadelphia | etc. | i825[ — 1833.] The title page of volume II of the MS. has “Uucian” spelled out, and a list of ten titles of membership in American and European Societies follows the name. March, 1905 | MANUSCRIPT OP CHARLES LUCIAN BONAPARTE 47 writing of Dr. Cooper the following note: “Vol. 3, Am. Orn. Vol. Ill (Original MSS. of Prince Carlo Luciano Bonaparte) cousin of Napoleon 1st and uncle of Nap. III. (J. G. Cooper.)” Totally forgotten the old manuscript had lain hidden away for years. It had undoubtedly come to Dr. Cooper through his father who was a warm friend of Prince Bonaparte. In the same rubbish heap was an autograph copy, with annotations, of Bonaparte’s ‘‘Specchio comparativo delle Ornitologie di Roma e di Filadelfia. 8vo. Pisa, Nistri, 1827. — Supplemento alia Specchio compar- ativo etc., 1832.” Also, there was the first manuscript of Bonaparte’s “Catalogue of the Birds of the United States, systematically arranged in Orders, Families, Genera, and Subgenera.” (Contrib. Maclurian Lyc. Arts and Sci., 1, 1827, pp. 8-34.) Prince Charles Lucian Bonaparte, cousin of Napoleon I and uncle of Napo- leon III, was born in Paris, May 24, 1803, and died July 30, 1857. Iu his early youth he came to America, remaining some eight years. He was associated with such ornithologists as Alexander Wilson, John James Audubon, Thomas Say, William Cooper, and the bird delineator, Titian Peal.* He mentions that Audu- bon, on his return from the far west, where he had been in search of novelties, showed him drawings of several new birds. A glance over Bonaparte’s work reveals the touch of the master workmen. It is with great pleasure that I am able to offer the first portrait of this emi- nent ornithologist. No doubt it is the only one, and it has probably never before been publicly exhibited in the United States. The plate has been made from a photograph of a lithograph, 9 by inches, very kindly loaned me by Mr. Ruthven Deane of Chicago, who procured it in Europe. For this privilege The Condor extends its best thanks to Mr. Deane. In the preface, Bonaparte laments the fact that he is unable to portray the history of birds in a style equal to that of his predecessor, Wilson, because he is not writing in his native language. He has, however, shown himself to be a mas- ter of clear description in English and his writings are to the point. He was for- tunate in having material fresh from the field of a little known country, then for the first time being adequately explored. Haywards , California. Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona BY HARRY S. SWARTII (■ Continued from page 28 ) — Ornithion i. ridgwayi. Ridgway Flycatcher. On June 11, 1903, the last day spent in the mesquites, while walking through the forest, a strange note was heard, which Mr. Stevens said sounded much like that of the Ridgway flycatcher, which he had taken here years before. We, of course, started in pursuit instantly, but the bird led us a long, weary chase, being about as elusive as Will-o’-the- Wisp. The note would be heard in the tree tops a short distance ahead, but when the b. Titian Peal was artist to Major Bong's Expedition to the Rocky Mountains and drew on the spot all the new birds contained in the first volume. [Preface to original edition ] He also went to Florida to draw for Bonaparte's second volume, devoted as he said to the water birds. 48 THE CONDOR | Von. VII spot was reached no bird was in sight, and a little later it would again be heard calling far off to one side. We persevered, occasionally catching a glimpse of a small bird flitting through the tree tops, and finally Mr. Stephens fired and picked up what proved to be a full grown juvenile. While examining this bird, the peculiar, twittering note was again heard on both sides, and we again started in pursuit. I followed my bird in vain for a long time, and finally prepared to give it up; but, while standing behind a thick bush, two of the birds darted over me and lit close by, w'here one could be seen feeding the other The young bird left almost immediately, and I fired and killed what proved to be an adult male. This ended our flycatcher hunt, for we neither saw nor heard them again. Those we saw were probably a single pair with their brood. They are birds that it would be exceedingly easy to overlook, since they are small and dull colored, and keep in the tops of the tallest trees as well; while, judging from those we saw, they would seem to be exceedingly shy and hard to approach. It was within a few miles of where w'e shot these birds that Mr. Stephens secured the type specimens in i S 8 1 ; and I can find no record of the capture of any others since that time. I have looked for them in vain in other parts of Arizona. Corvus c. sinuatus. American Raven. An adult male in very fine plum- age was shot by Mr. Stephens; several others were seen. Corvus cryptoleucus. White-necked Raven. Very common; seen mostly in the open pastures. Nearly all that were seen seemed to be moulting, and were exceedingly disreputable in appearance. Molothrus a. obscurus. Dwarf Cowbird. Exceedingly common all through the mesquite forest. Agelaius phoeniceus subsp? Red-winged Blackbird. A few red-wings were seen on one or two occasions flying about over the Indians’ grain fields, but none were secured. Some breeding birds I secured on the San Pedro River were identified by Mr. Ridgeway as neutrolis , so those seen on the Santa Cruz may have been of this variety, or sonoriensis. Icterus c. nelsoni. Arizona Hooded Oriole. Exceedingly common; breeding everywhere in the mesquite forest. Icterus bullocki. Bullock Oriole. Not nearly so common as the last. Chondestes g. strigatus. Western Lark Sparrow. One or two pairs were seen about the edges of the mesquites; they are not at all common in this region. Amphispiza b. deserticola. Desert Sparrow. Very common everywhere on the open, brush-covered mesas. A few were seen about the edges of the mes- quites, but none in the thick forests. Pipilo f. mesoleucus. Canyon Towhee. Fairly common and breeding in the big mesquites. Pipilo aberti. Abert Towhee. Breeds in limited numbers in the mesquite forests. It is not nearly so abundant as the last, and the birds are so shy and re- tiring that they are hard to catch sight of. Cardinalis c. superbus. Arizona Cardinal. In 1902 I saw a good many car- dinals in the mesquites, but in 1903 they seemed to be almost entirely absent, the only one observed being a single male bird. Pyrrhuloxia sinuata. Arizona Pyrrhuloxia. Fairly common, and often heard singing about the camp. A nest with three eggs was found built in a scraggly mesquite bush at the edge of an Indian field. The nest was not concealed at all and I saw the female fly to it when still a long way off. Both birds stayed around March, 1905 BIRDS OF PAPAGO INDIAN RESERVATION, ARIZONA 49 while we took the eggs, and both gave continual utterance to a loud, sharp, chip. Guiraca c. lazula. Western Blue Grosbeak. Fairly common about the culti- vated fields and pastures of the Indians. One or two broods of young were seen flying about. Piranga r. cooperi. Cooper Tanager. Fairly common, and breeding every- where in the mesquite forest, but very shy and hard to approach. Progne s. hesperia. Western Martin. While working in the giant cactus on the hill before described, a number of purple martins were observed flying about, and many of them were seen entering holes near the tops of the tallest plants. Several of the birds were shot, but they had evidently not yet begun to lay, though from their actions I think there is no doubt that they intended to occupy the holes in the cactus later on. Though most of the species found breeding at this spot were near the base of the hill, the martins stayed near the summit for the most part, and the holes they were seen flying in and out of were near the tops of the tallest of the cactuses. A little later we saw the birds as far up the Santa Cruz River as we went, about forty miles, while on our return from the Santa Rita Mountains at the end of June, they could still be seen flying about the summit of this little hill. Riparia riparia. Bank Swallow. One or two seen along the banks of the Santa Cruz River. They probably bred there though no nests were found. Phainopepla nitens. Phainopepla. Very common, and breeding every where in the mesquites. Lanius 1. excubitorides. Wliite-rumped Shrike. A few seen on the open mesa. Not very common. Vireo pusillus. Least Yireo. Found breeding in abundance all through the mesquites, just as in the willow bottoms in California. Helminthophila luciae. Lucy Warbler. Exceedingly common, and breeding everywhere in the mesquites. Nests were found in old woodpecker holes, in natural crevices and behind loose bark, even in old verdin’s nests, in fact in almost any place that would support the structure. As a rule they were built rather low down, from three to fifteen feet above the ground. Several broods are probably raised, as unfinished nests and incomplete sets were found at the same time that broods of young as large as the adults were seen flying about. Dendroica ae. sonorana. Sonora Yellow Warbler. A few were seen in the cottonwood trees near the Indian agent's house. Just a single bird was seen in the mesquites, and I doubt very much if any breed there. Icteria v. longicauda. Long-tailed Chat. Very common. The varied notes of this bird could be heard on all sides from morning till night. Among his other vocal accomplishments the chat seems to be a pretty good mimic at times. I went in pursuit of one near camp several times under the impression that it was an olive-sided flycatcher, wondering what that bird could be doing here at this time of the year. I could hardly believe it was a chat, even when I saw the bird, so good was the imitation. Mimus p. leucopterus. Western Mockingbird. Quite common in the mesquites. Toxostoma c. palmeri. Palmer Thrasher. Seen occasionally in the mes- quites, but much more abundantout on the mesa, where it breeds in large numbers. Toxostoma bendirei. Bendire Thrasher. Quite common on the mesa. I do not recall seeing any in the mesquite forest. Toxostoma crissale. Crissal Thrasher. Breeds in the mesquites but not in any numbers. They were shy and retiring in their habits, and though fre- quently heard singing, when approached they became silent, slipping away into 50 THE CONDOR Vol. VII the thickest of the bushes. Possibly six or eight pairs were seen altogether, and one set of four eggs was secured. This nest was built about eight feet from the ground, in a thick, thorny bush, covered with blue-black colored berries. This bush grows in abundance all through these bottom lands, and the Indians gather the berries, beating the bushes with sticks and catching the falling berries in wicker baskets. Heleodytes b. couesi. Cactus Wren. A few were seen in the mesquites, but they were far more common out on the mesa. Several nests were seen built in forks in the giant cactus fifteen or twenty feet from the ground. Catherpes m. conspersus. Canyon Wren. One or two canyon wrens were heard singing about the summit of the rocky hill before mentioned. I hardly ex- pected to find any of this species out on an isolated hill like this, entirely discon- nected from any mountain range. Thryomanes b. bairdi. Baird Wren. Breeds fairly abundantly all through the mesquite forest. The first week in June young birds were seen as large as adults. Auriparus flaviceps. Verdin. Very common. The birds themselves were not very conspicuous, but their nests were seen on all sides. Polioptila plumbea. Plumbeous Gnatcatcher. A few seen out on the open mesa; not at all common. ( To be concluded .) NEST OF GOLDEN EAGLE. IN A BLUFF NEAR ARROYO GRANDE, CALIFORNIA PHOTOGRAPHED BY ROBERT B. MORAN March, 1905 | 5i FROM FIELD AND STUDY The Japan Stork. — My friend Mr. T. Kimura of Stanford University has kindly loaned me three interesting photographs showing the nest, adult, and young of the Japan stork, Ciconia boyciana Swinhoe. These photo- graphs were taken in June, 1904, at Izushi in the west central portion of the main island of Japan. The accompanying repro- duction of one of the photographs shows the old bird and one young standing, and apparently one young lying in the nest. Another photograph, however, reveals four young in a sitting posture, together with the adult. Mr. Kimura informs me that the tortoise and stork are venerated in Japan as emblems of long life, and figures of them are used in the ceremony of marriage. A note on the back of the photograph, in the Japanese language, informs the reader that the storks recently returned to this locality after an absence of many years, having been formerly fairly common in the general region. This nest is viewed by many people every day. The coming of the stork is regarded as a happy omen pointing to the supremacy of Japan in the final outcome of the present war. The Japanese believe that the cannonading and noise of fighting have driven the storks out of their wonted homes to seek refuge in the flowery kingdom. I am indebted to Dr. Leonhard Stejneger for the identification of the birds. Dr. Stejneger writes that this species is closely allied to the white stork of Kurope, but is larger; and while the former has a red bill with a black spot in front of the eye, the Japanese species has a black bill with a red spot of naked skin. The Japanese name is Ko-dzuru. (See also: Stejneger, Proc. lT. S. Nat. Museum, 1S87, pp. 2, S5-286.)— Walter K. Fisher. The Flycatcher from the Santa Barbara Islands.— In The Auk for July, 1897, pp. 300-303, Mr. H. C. Oberholser described an alleged new species of flycatcher from the Santa Bar- bara group of islands, calling it Empidonax insu/icola. Ilis material consisted of five speci- mens, two from Santa Rosa island, two from Santa Cruz island, and one from Santa Catalina island. Of these, one specimen is remarked upon as differing somewhat from the rest, thus in- terrupting the uniformity of the “series”! In his further remarks the author calls attention to the fact that among a lot of mainland examples of Empidonax difficilis are at least two which show close approach to “iusu/icola" in characters. He also recognizes “a considerable range of variation” in the mainland series “not satisfactorily attributable to geographical causes.” It is this latter observation that I wish to concur with, and emphasize. In fact, I feel convinced that “insulicola” itself was based upon individual variants of difficilis! In June, 1897, I secured an Empidonax on San Clemente island. The two skins obtained were submitted to Mr. Oberholser, who marked them iusu/icola, and these were so recorded in my paper. (Rep. Bds. Santa Barbara Ids., Aug. 1897, p. 15.) Also Mr. Oberholser has recorded the same birds in the Proceedings of the U. S. National Museum (Vol. XXII, 1900, p. 230), re- marking that they were “substantially identical with those from the other islands.” I now have these two skins before me, and another from the Mailliard collection, taken on Santa Cruz island in April 1898. I also have at hand a series of 50 mainland skins of Empidonax difficilis, includ- ing 9 from Sitka, Alaska, and several from Arizona. I am impressed with the great amount of variation shown, in intensities of dorsal brownness, pectoral brownish suffusion, and abdominal yellowness, all of which appears to me to be entirely independent of locality. I have carefully 5 2 THE CONDOR \ Vor,. VII compared the three island skins above mentioned with the mainland series, and find several counterparts from Palo Alto and Pasadena, which 1 am absolutely and unqualifiedly unable to distinguish from them. A conscientious study of Mr. Oberholser’s description leads me to con- clude that he was not fortunate in having a sufficient series of mainland breeding birds for com- parison . As to bionimic reasoning, this flycatcher is migratory everywhere, north of Mexico at least; it is not known to occur on any of the Santa Barbara islands, except as a summer visitant; hence it is not a resident species there. Therefore we should not expect it to fall under the dominance of local environment, at least to such an extent as resident species like the jays, shrikes, song spar- rows and wrens. As far as we now know, there is no reason for recognizing “ Einpidonax insu- licola" as distinct from E. djffici/is ; therefore I propose that the former name be deposed from our lists. — Joseph Grinnell. Bohemian W axwings in Utah. — Range of Cliff Swallows. — The long awaited Part 1 1 1, of Ridgway’s Birds of North and Middle America came recently to delight my heart, and though a formidable pile of examination papers entered a silent protest, I took time to cut the leaves and “run through” the volume. In the course of my hasty examination, 1 failed to find any Utah record of one of our winter birds, and in another case, I discovered that the range given, can be considerably extended in two directions. The species apparently not reported for Utah is the Bohemian waxwing (Ampelis garru/us). To my personal knowledge these birds have wintered in this part of Utah ( central) for the past seven winters (counting the present) with. one exception, that of 1900-1901. They may have been in the state during the winter named, but I did not hap- pen to see them. These birds come about the middle of December and remain till the last week of March and first week in April. I have in preparation an article for The Condor on the habits of these birds, so will not say more now. The range of the cliff swallow ( Petroch elido n lunifrons lunifrons ), as given by Ridgway is, “mid. and s. Utah.” O11 July 10, 1903, I found these birds nesting well over toward the eastern side of Wasatch County. They were making use of a mass of yellow sandstone that had been weathered into an arch. In my notes, under the date named, is a rough drawing of this arch and the dimensions given are, “twenty feet across the top, while the inside of the span, where the nests are suspended, is a little more than ten feet in length and about the same number of feet in width, while it is just high enough to admit of my standing erect.” Appearances seemed to indicate that a goodly number of nests had been destroyed not long before our visit to the place, and not more than two dozen of the birds were seen by us. Two nests were in use; others were in course of construction. In three instances new nests were being built on the foundations of old nests, and in a single instance the builder was repairing a nest that had the appearance of having been in use the year before. We also found these swallows (during the same trip, July 10-30, 1903) between Lake Fork and Ft. Duchesne, and between the Fort and Vernal, the county seat of Uinta County, thus extending the bounds of their eastern range to within about thirty miles of the Colorado line. On May 10, 1903, and May 12, 1904, I found these swallows nesting in the cliffs at Echo, in Summit County — about twenty miles west of the southwest corner of Wyoming. I am inclined to think that these birds nest throughout Utah, in suitable localities. — S. Ii. Good- win, Provo City , Utah. Status of the Townsend Warbler in California.— Dendroica townsendi occurs in Cali- fornia in two roles, as a regular winter visitant and as a rather late spring migrant.® I have per- sonally met with it in both capacities and have secured considerable series of skins. From the Santa Cruz District b (Black Mt., King Mt., Woodside, Pescadero Creek, and vicinity of Mon- terey) my specimens indicate dates from October 13 through January. In the vicinity of Pasa- dena specimens were taken from April 22 to May 13, of various years. These two sets of skins, namely, mid-winter visitants from the Santa Cruz District, and late spring migrants from Pasa- dena, present slight but significant average differences from one another. The characters con- sist in the larger bill, shorter wing and tail, and more rounded wing of the former, as contrasted with the smaller bill, longer wing and tail, and more pointed wing of the latter. Such differ- ences, we have learned from a study of bird races in general, are apparently correlated with lengths of the respective migratory journeys. For while both sets of birds certainly summer north of California, one goes no farther south in winter than central California, and the other set of individuals traverses the entire length of the state and farther, possibly providing the records from southern Mexico and Guatemala. Unfortunately I have no opportunity to examine breed- ing birds from the north. But I believe these two sets of individuals represent in reality two geographical races, breeding in separate faunal areas, the short-winged birds nesting in the humid Sitkan District, of the coast of south-eastern Alaska and British Columbia, the long-winged birds a Less in evidence during the southward movement in the fall. b See Map 2 in Pacifiic Coast Avifauna No. 3. March, 1905 | FROM FIELD AND STUDY 53 in the more arid interior of British Columbia and Northwest Territory, where the species has been found on the headwaters of the Yukon in July. Parallels seem to be afforded in the cases of Ixoreus n. ncevius and I. n. meruloides , Melospizal. striata and M. /. lincolni, and Regulus c. grinnelli and R. c. calendula. The differences in wing and tail lengths are not due to wear, for the spring birds show the most wear and yet exhibit the greatest measurements. Nineteen males of the Townsend warbler from the Santa Cruz District average: wing 2.57 in. (65 mm.); tail 2.19 in. (55.6 mm.); the 7th primary longest (7-8-9-6-5-4-3-2-1 ), counting the innermost as the first as recently recommended by RidgwayL Forty males from Pasadena average: wing 2.64 in. (67 min.), tail 2.23 in. (56.6 mm.); the 8th primary largest (S-7-9-6, etc.).rf Mr. Wells W. Cooke in his recent account of the “Distribution and Migration of North American Warblers”'’ has the following to say of Dendroica townsendi : “The Townsend warbler is one of the widest ranging of the western warblers, breeding from the mountains of southern California north to Sitka, Alaska, [etc] * * * A few sometimes winter as far north as southern California." [Italics mine.] I hope that Imaynotbe judged over-critical if I venture the assertion that both of these statements are decidedly misleading. One would infer that the species is well known as a regular breeder in the “mountains of southern California”; whereas we know of not one authentic instance of the species nesting anywhere within the State! Of course it is possible there remains unrecorded some instance known to Mr. Cooke; but this, if true, could reasonably be considered exceptional, judging from the comparative thoroughness with which the “moun- tains of southern California” have been explored ornitliologically within the past few years. Again, that a few individuals sometimes winter in southern California, is quite true, but it gives no hint of the fact that the Townsend warbler winters regularly in the Santa Cruz District of central California in such numbers as to be considered common! Recourse to readily-available literature would have disclosed a series of records beginning in 1879./— Joseph Grinnell. Rufous-crowned Sparrow near Stanford University. — During the week from August 29 to September 4, 1904, I was camped in a ravine among the hills opposite Hidden Villa, which is on an old ranch near the base of Black Mountain, Santa Clara County, and about six miles from Stanford University. Here I heard the peculiar notes of the rufous-crowned sparrow ( Aimo - phila ruficeps ) almost daily, and saw several of the birds. On August 30 I procured a specimen, which is No. 5965 of my collection. The species was noted only on a southern hillside covered with a low growth of greasewood brush (Adenosto/na). In this same place the Bell sparrow and dusky poor-will were also common. — Joseph Grinneli.. Aerial Battle of Red-tailed Hawks, Buteo borealis calurus. — On December 8th, 1904, Rev. Thomas J. Wood of this place whilst feeding his chickens heard a loud, shrill sound over- head. On looking up he saw two large hawks fighting fiercely. Continuing to watch them he saw they were in some way fastened together and, going about in circles, were gradually near- ing the ground. In a few minutes they dropped within a few feet of where he stood. As thev struck the ground they become separated, but being somewhat exhausted from their struggle did not take immediate flight or attempt to until Mr. Wood started towards them when one started but was easily overtaken and fearlessly grasped by the neck by Mr. Wood who turning quickly, caught the other in a like manner. He brought and kindly presented them to me. They were the western red-tail ( Buteo bof'ea/is calurus ) in the intermediate plumage and both males. Their skins are now in my collection. — Henry W. Marsden, Witch Creek , Cal. Colaptes auratus luteus in Los Angeles County, Cal. — A female specimen of Co/aptcs auratus luteus has lately come into my possession. It was taken near Alhambra, Nov. 4, 1904, by A. Williamson of this city, and so far as I have been able to obtain information is the second record for Los Angeles County. Our other record is of an adult male specimen taken in the same locality, Feb. 7, 1890, by E. C. Tliurber. — C. H. Richardson, Jr., Pasadena , Cal. Double Nest of Arkansas Kingbird. — During the past summer I made the acquaint- ance of what was to me an unknown trait in any flycatcher, that of building a double nest. A pair of Arkansas kingbirds ( Tyrannus verticalis ) built their nest near the top of a dilapidated windmill tower on an abandoned ranch near Turlock. On May 5, there were three eggs in the nest. I did not handle the eggs, nor even touch the nest, but left them as I wanted to study the feeding of the young. About two weeks later I climbed to the nest and found that the birds had built another nest on top of the first and had already laid three eggs. Two of these were after- wards hatched, the third being infertile. — J. S. Hunter, Berkeley , Cal . {Continued on page 55. ) c Bds. N. and Mid. Am. I, 1901, p. XVI. d Anti-splitters please take note that I have here pointed out a subspecies without "burdening it with a name!’’ e U. S. Dept. Agr., Bull. No 18, Div. Biol. Survey, 1904. p. 90. f Coues, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club IV, April 1879, p. 1 17. 54 THE CONDOR | Voe. VII THE CONDOR. An Illustrated Magazine, of Western Ornithology Published Bi-monthly by the Cooper Ornithologi- cal Club of California WALTER. K. FISHER., Editor, Palo Alto JOSEPH GRINNELL, Business Manager and Associate Editor, Pasadena R. E. SNODGRASS, WILLIAM L. FINLEY, Associate Editors Palo Alto, California: Published March 17, 1905 SUBSCRIPTION RATES Price in the United States, Canada, Mexico, and U. S. Colonies one dollar a year; single copies twentv-five cents. Price in all countries in the International Postal Union one dollar and a quarter a year. Subscriptions should be sent to the Business Manager; manuscripts and exchanges to the Editor. EDITORIAL NOTES AFTER two trials at bird protection legisla- tion the state of California has apparently succeeded in enacting a law. A copy of the bill, which was drawn up by !\lr. Charles Vogelsang of the State Game and Fish Commission, with amendments suggested by Dr. T. S. Palmer of the U. S. Biological Survey, is printed below. The measure was introduced into the Senate by Senator John G. Mattos and into the Assembly by Assemblyman E. K. Strobridge. At the Jan- uary meeting of the Club the bill was read by Mr. Emerson, and after some discussion was en- dorsed by the Club. The clause permitting the owner or tenant of any premises to kill birds in the act of destroying crops or fruits growing on the premises is certainly susceptible to grave abuse, but the amendment prohibiting the sale of such birds will undoubtedly do something to check undue liberties. This clause, and the absence of any specfic mention of poison or poi- soned water was considerably discussed at the meeting referred to, and later. It seemed best, in view of the fact that these are the very rocks upon which the first bill — that of the Cooper Club in 1901 — was wrecked, to concede the points. Another bill was in the field at the time but was later withdrawn by its promoters, About four years ago those who were active in securing the passage of the Cooper Club bill were rejoicing in the anticipation that it would become a law. But there’s many a slip as they found out, for the governor did not see fit to add his essential signature. Since then consid- erable work in educating the people has been done by the U. S. Biological Survey, through bulletins, and especially by the presence of Prof. Beal in the state for parts of two years. Un- doubtedly a large part of the change of senti- ment has been due also to the national move- ment towards protecting beneficial birds. Dur- ing the past year the California Audubon Soci- ety has been indefatigable in spreading its propaganda among the people, with desirable results. Last, and we believe not least, the widening influence of the Cooper Club through its representative membership has also helped to turn the balance. In the immediate work of securing the pas- sage of the bill Mr. Vogelsang, Senator Mattos, Assemblyman Strobridge and Mr. Emerson have been especially active and these gentlemen certainly deserve the thanks of everyone for their public-spirited efforts. Doubtless there were many others who aided also in lobbying the measure. Their reward should be the con- sciousness of well-doing! A copy of the bill follows; The people of the State of California , repre- sented in senate and assembly , do enact as fol- lows: Section i. Section six hundred and thirty- seven of the Penal Code of the State of Califor- nia, is hereby amended to read as follows: 637 a. Every person who, in the State of California, shall at any time hunt, shoot at, pursue, take, kill or destroy, buy, sell, give away, or have in his possession, except upon a written permit, from the board of fish commis- sioners of the State of California, for the pur- pose of propagation or for education or scientific purposes, any meadow lark, or any wild bird, living or dead, or any part of any dead wild bird, or who shall rob the nest, or take, sell, or offer for sale, or destroy the eggs of any meadow lark or of any wild bird, is guilty of a misde- meanor; provided , that nothing in this section shall prohibit the killing of a meadow lark or other wild bird by the owner or tenant of any premises where such bird is found of destroying berries, fruits or crops growing on such premises, but the birds so killed shall not be shipped or sold. The English sparrow, sharp- shinned hawk, Cooper’s hawk, duck hawk, great horned owl, bluejay, house finch (known also as the California linnet), and all birds otherwise protected by the provisions of this code and those birds commonly known as game birds, are not included among the birds pro- tected by this section. Although Governor Pardee has not yet signed the bill be believe it very unlikely that he will consider it unfavorably. At any rate let us hope that this will not be another “slip”. THE series of portraits of eminent European ornithologists, announced in the Januarv issue, is opened with likenesses of Dr. Philip Lutlev Sclater, Dr. Jean Cabanis, Mr. Howard Saunders and Victor Ritter von Tschusi zu Schmidhoffen. Dr. Sclater, perhaps the most widely known ornithologist living, has for many years been the secretary of the Zoological Society of London and editor of 7 he Ibis. His researches have been chiefly concerned with Neotropical birds, upon which he has published a formidable list of papers. The bibliography of his published writings (Bull. U. S. Nat. Mus. No. 49, 1896) lists 1239 titles, to which many have been added during the last decade. Up to that time he had characterized 1067 new March, 1905 | EDITORIAL NOTES 55 species f 245 in collaboration with Osbert Sal- vin), 135 new genera (25 with Salvin), and two new families of American birds. In a broader sense, therefore, Dr. Sclater is one of the most eminent and prolific of American naturalists. Dr. Jean Cabanis, the veteran German or- nithologist, has also been an indefatigable worker. He is well known through the Mu- seum Heinianum (with Heine) and the bird volume of Fauna Peruana. He has published Oruitliologisehe Notizen (Wiegmann Arch, iv, 1847), Uebersicht der im Rerlin Museum be findlichen Vogel von Costa Rica (Journ. fur Ornithologie, 1860-1862), Uebersicht der von Herrn Carl Euler in District Contagallo, Pro- vinz Rio de Janeiro gesammelten Vogel, 1874, Journal fur Ornith ologi e . and also a large number of other papers in the With Mr. Howard Saunders one always asso- ciates the excellent account of the gulls and terns in the Catalogue of Birds of the British Museum. He has also written a Manual of British Birds ( 1888-89), and contributed numer- ous papers to the Proceedings of Zoological Society of London, The Ibis, Zoologist , etc. Among these may be mentioned. A List of the Birds of Southern Spain (Ibis, 1871), On the Sterninae or terns with descriptions of three new species (P. Z. S., 1876), On the Lari me or gulls ( P. Z. S., 1878), O11 tlie geographical dis- tribution of gulls and terns ( 1879). .Mr. Saun- ders has been associated with Dr. Sclater as one of the editors of The Ibis. Victor Ritter Von Tschusi zu Schmidhoffen, the distinguished Austrian ornithologist, was born December 28, 1847, at Slichov near Prag. Bohemia, and since 1871 has resided at Villa Tannenhof, near Hallein, Salzburg. His special field of study is palsearctic orni- thology. The Count's collection contains over 5500 skins, many in rare and exclusive series, and it is open to everyone for scien- tific study. In late years he has devoted himself to the study of geographical forms, of which he has described a great number. At the request of the late Crown Prince Rudolf he di- rected for eight years the ornithological obser- vation stations in Austro-Hungary, editing the results of the work as published in Ornis and in six separate yearbooks. .Since 1890 Count v. Tschusi zu Schmidhoffen has edited that excel- lent journal, the Ornithotogisches Jahrbuch , which is devoted exclusively to the advance- ment of palmarctic ornithology. Up to Octo- ber, 1904, he has published about 400 ornitho- logical works, and with 1905 looks back upon fort}r years of ornithological activity. We take pleasure in calling attention to an addition to our editorial force. Mr. William Lovell Finley of Portland, Oregon, who with Mr. Herman T. Bohlman, has contributed to The Condor frequently during the past three years, has been appointed an associate editor by- president Mailliard. Unfortunately Mr. Fin- ley’s article, with numerous remarkable photo- graphs of hummingbirds, through an abund- ance of copy on the waiting list, has to be post- poned till the May issue. Owing to the fact that practically all the edit- orial force of The Condor will be “otherwise engaged" during the coming summer, all no- tices and manuscripts intended for the July issue must reach the editor not later than May 1. The short notes published in this issue about exhaust our supply. They have been coming in very slowly since November. Will not every member search his note-books? We extend our best thanks to our Club mem- ber Mr. Louis Agassiz l'uertes who has contrib- uted the painting of the prairie falcon repro- duced as the frontispiece of this issue. We also wish to thank Mr. Ruthven Deane for the cour- tesy of loaning a valuable lithograph — that of Prince Charles Bonaparte — for reproduction. We are obliged to repeat the apology made in the last issue for the postponement of the Club Roster, which will surely appear in Maw For the May issue we have interesting letters upon an interesting subject from Prof. Alfred Russell Wallace, and Dr. Leonhard Stejneger. More will follow in the July issue. FROM FIELD AND STUDY ( Continued from page 5?) Orange-crowned Warbler taken at San Luis Obispo, Cal. — While overhauling our series of Helminthophila recentlv I came across a specimen taken at San Luis Obispo on Octo- ber 10, 1903, which had been laid aside for further examination and forgotten for the time being. This individual was shot by my brother during a trip we made together, and while we were much surprised to find a warbler of this genus at such a time of year, as well as being puzzled at its large size, it did not occur to either of us that it might prove to be H. celata. In fact we laid it aside in order to compare it with specimens of IT. c. lutescens or sordida in fall plumage if we could find any. The taking of two IT. celata in the Mojave Desert lately brought the matter to my mind and close comparison shows the San Luis Obispo bird (Coll, of J. & J. W. M., field no. 5758, (5 ) to be of this form, making it the most northern record in California for the orange-crowned warbler — unless I am greatly mistaken. — Joseph Maili.iard. The Mockingbird at Stanford Univer- sity, Cal. — Dr. Jordan informs me that he ob- served a mockingbird, Mini us po/yg lottos leu- copterus , in his door-yard Dec. 20, 1904. The same or another individual was seen in the vicinity by others, for a week or two subse- quently. This species is very rare here. — Walter K. Fisher. 56 THE CONDOR | Vo i.. VII Notes on the Eewis Woodpecker. — While on a surveying trip in July of last year, I was very much struck with the great number of Lewis woodpeckers (Asyndesmus torquatus ) breeding in the vicinity of Sardine Valley in Nevada County, California. This valley is a couple of square miles in extent, fairly flat, and usually affords good feeding ground to a large herd of dairy stock. Last year and the year before, this feeding range has had to be abandoned by the dairy people early in the season, owing to a plague of grasshoppers of a wingless variety. Lewis woodpeckers evidently knew of this, for last year they were to be seen all day long, flying from the valley with grasshoppers to feed their young, and almost every old dead pine or blasted stump had a voracious family of these youngsters in it, yell- ing all day long. This species was the only one that showed any appreciable increase in numbers in consequence of the increase in insect food. I noted western robins ( Merida m. propinqua), Brewer blackbirds ( Euphcigus cyanocephalus ) and a few dull colored sparrows feeding on the grasshoppers but not in any great numbers. — John J. Williams, Apple- gate , Cal. News Notes The First International Forestry, Fish and Game Exhibition, under the auspices of the Pacific Coast Forest, Fish and Game Associa- tion, will be held at Mechanics’ Pavilion, San Francisco, April i to 15 inclusive. Group C. — Animals and Birds, is under the direction of I)r. F. W. D'Fvelyn (37-39 Phelan Building) who desires for exhibition purposes live birds (any variety, water fowl, game, shore, or in- sectivorous); stuffed and mounted specimens of birds; skins prepared for scientific demonstra- tions, nests and eggs, eggs in collections. Diplomas of Merit or Certificates of Participa- tion will be awarded on the recommendation of a Special Jury. In writing to Dr. D’Evelyn, as all members who can aid are urged to do, state whether specimens can be supplied as a loan, purchase, or donation to the Association. Mr. John W. Mailliard has recently returned from an extended trip to the eastern states. Mr. H. H. Bailey has gone to San Bias, Mex- ico. Mr. W. O Emerson writes that the first Allen hummer arrived at Haywards on the morning of February 5. Mr. Edmund Heller, under date of February 8, writes from New Orleans:” We have ‘finished’ Mexico and are now about to leave this port for Puerto Barrios, Guatemala where a year will be spent collecting the larger mammals and birds of the republic. During the fall we succeeded in securing a good series of ante- lope, mule deer, white-tailed deer, peccaries, beaver, and turkeys in Coahuila, Mexico. A great many birds were secured at Sabinas, Coa- huila, which is on one of the tributary rivers of the lower Rio Grande, and is near the junc- tion of the western and eastern faunas. A great variet}7 of bird life occurs there and I do not suppose it would be difficult to get 600 species in a year’s work. For winter residents tliey have such typical eastern and western birds as the pheebe and Sa}' pheebe, eastern bluebird, Audubon warbler, brown and curve- billed thrashers, black vulture, Harris hawk, bob-white, scaled partridge, boat-tailed grackle, and Brewer blackbird. Turkeys were not rare and in one night’s hunt I got three ‘whales.’ ” In the Proceedings of the Biological Society of Washington, Feb. 21, 1905, p. 95, Dr. C. W. Richmond calls attention to the fact that Symp/icmia Rafin., founded upon Tringa sewi- palmata Wils. [ Ercunctes pusillus (L)] can not stand as the genus of the willet, being a synonym of Ereunetes. Catoptrophorus Bona- parte is the next available name. Ossifraga is untenable so that Macronedes Richmond becomes the generic name of the giant fulmar, Mr. Robert Ridgwav is spending the winter in Costa Rica. Dr. Edgar A. Mearns has recently published two papers on new species of Philippine birds. Notes on the California Vulture Wanted F'or a vear or more I have been very success- ful in gathering notes for my monograph on the California vulture. Many of you have received letters from me and I wish to thank you again for the many valuable notes the answers contained. I am going to push the work now and wish that all who can would give me information in regard to the width of the extended wings and weight of the speci- mens in the meat with the sex and age of same, also any other notes that are of interest. I will say here in regard to the eggs of the Cali- fornia vulture, that they are not nearly so rare as supposed. I have found in actual ex- istence thirty-five specimens of which twenty- four are perfect. The first authentic date I have of a specimen being taken is April 1859, in the mountains back of Santa Monica near the place called Canejo. This egg is second class and owned by Mr. J. H. Gurney of England. The most taken any year was in 1900 when eight were secured, and the last that I have record of was taken February 11, 1903. The breeding season runs from February 11, [1903] incubation well advanced to June 11 [1899] incubation fresh. I will be glad to cor- respond with anyone on this subject, so do not hesitate to write me as 1 wish to make the monograph as complete as possible. w. L. Chambers, Santa Monica, Calif. Just as this page is being ‘locked up’ we learn that the bird bill has become a law. In order to collect legally a permit must now be secured from the State Board of Fish Commissioners , San Francisco. THE ONDOR COOPER ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB CONTENTS Rufous Hummingbirds Herman T. Bohlman Frontispiece Hummingbird Studies William L. Finley, 6 photos by Herman T. Bohlman 59 The Future Problems and Aims of Ornithology — Tetters from Prof. Alfred R. Wal- lace, Dr. L. Stejneger, and Dr. P. L. Sclater 62 Portraits of European Ornithologists: Dr. Anton Reichenow, Mr. H. F. Dresser, PrOf. Count T. Salvadori, Dr. O. Finsch 67 In Alaska’s Rain Belt Wilfred H. Osgood 68 Midwinter Birds on the Mojave Desert Joseph Mailliard and Joseph Grinnell (3 photos) 71 Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa RitaMts., Arizona Harry S. Swart h (concluded) 77 FROM FIELD AND STUDY.— Notes by Joseph Mailliard, Frank S. Daggett, Ver- mon Bailey, L. Belding, J. S. Hunter, E. I. Applegate, W. W. Price, J. J. Williams, L. E. Taylor, W. F. Dean, Earl Morris, R. F. Rooney 82 83 EDITORIAL NOTES. — Robin Notes, Letter from Prof. Ritter, Portraits of European Ornithologists 84 Minutes of Club Meetings 85 Directory of Members of Cooper Ornithological Club 86 $x.oo a Year 13 Issues The Plant World An Illustrated Monthly Magazine of Pop- ular Botany] Established 1897 The Official Organ of the Wild Flower Preservation Society of America If you are interested in botany |The Plant World will interest you. If you are a teacher of botany, The Plant World will help you. The Plant World will keep yon in touch with modern botanical thought. EDITED BY FRANCIS F. FLOYD Professor of Botany Teachers College, Columbia University, New York Send for a Sample Copy BULLETIN OF THE Michigan Ornithological Club Alexander IV. Blain , fr.. Editor /. Claire IVood and Walter B. Barrows , Associates Beginning with 1905 the Bulletin enters upon its sixth volumn and will be of more interest than ever to the bird student. The many contributions will be enriched by original photographs of birds their nests and eggs. The Bulletin is devoted to the ornithology of the Great Take Region and the present volume will contain many notes on the birds of the St. Clair Flats and other points of interest in this territory. If you are interested in birds you should read the Bulletin. Subscription, 50 Cents per Year Sample Copy, 1 5 Cents FREDERICK C. HCBEL Business Manager I 12 Alexandrine Ave. Detroit, Mieh. — RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRDS. UPPER FIGURE, FEEDING AT GERANIUM: LOWER FIGURE. FEMALE AND NEST IN VIRGINIA CREEPER Photographed by Herman T. Bohlnian THE-C9T1D9R n-miafiZTise.- 05 © (its S eCRTy • OUUJGBOTr 0 6Y- Volume VII May-June 1905 Number 3 Hummingbird Studies BY WILLIAM LOVELL FINLEY ILLUSTRATED BY HERMAN T. BOHLMAN I WAS standing on the hillside one May morning when two hummers caught my attention. One whirred downward like the rush of a rocket. He ascended, whirling up till I could see only a blurred speck in the blue. Then he dropped headlong like a red meteor, with his gorget puffed out and his tail spread wide. Instead of striking with a burst of flying sparks, he veered just above the bushes with a sound like the lash of a whip drawn swiftly through the air, and, as the impetus carried him up, a high-pitched whistle burst in above the whir of his wings. Again and again he swung back and forth like a comet in its orbit. If he was courting, his aim was surely to dazzle and move with irresistable charm. I think his method was to sweep at his lady-love with a show of glittering brilliancy and gorgeous display and win her heart in one grand charge. He must have won her for they took up a homestead in the Virginia creeper just at the edge of the porch. I saw her collecting spider webs and down from the thistles, and then as I watched her building, it looked to me as if a bill for probing flowers were not suitable for weaving nests. Perhaps it would have been more convenient at times if it had been shorter, but she wove in the webs and fibers, whirred around and around and shaped the sides of her tiny cup as a potter moulds his master-piece. Then she thatched the outside with irregular bits of lichen. The rufous hummingbird ( Selasphorus rufus) seems to adapt itself better to the Oregon climate than many of the other birds. A hard rain creates havoc among the birds in nesting time but this hummer has profited by the experience of the past. Out of twenty-three different hummingbird nests, I found the major- 6o THE CONDOR | Vor.. VII ity built so they were entirely under shelter. Three were in vines directly under bridges, two in Virginia creepers under porches, another in a blackberry bush under a log and so on, where any amount of rain could not bother them. When the day was warm the mother did not brood long at a time; five min- utes was quite a long spell. It often seemed to me the tiny eggs would chill through before she returned, but after a few days they began to lose the flesh tint of pink and changed to a dull lead color. In just twelve days the pink capsules had developed into creatures that looked exactly like two tiny black bugs, with a slight streak of brown extending down the middle of their backs. In a few days more the little brats began to fork out all over with tiny black horns and then from the end of each horn grew the downy plumes of brown. One day I crawled in close behind the bushes at the side of the nest and hid myself carefully. The mother darted at me and poised a foot from my nose, as if to stare me out of countenance. She looked me over from head to foot twice be- fore she seemed satisfied I was harmless. Then she whirled and sat on the nest edge. After she had spread her tail like a flicker to brace herself, she craned her neck and drew her dagger-like bill straight up above the nest. She plunged it down the youngster’s throat to the hilt and started a series of gestures that seemed to puncture him to the toes. Then she stabbed the other twin till it made me shudder. She was only giving them a dinner after the usual hummingbird method of regurgitation but it looked to me like the murder of the infants. I have never seen a hummingbird fledgling fall from the nest in advance of his strength as a robin often does. When the time comes, he seems to spring into the air full grown, clad in glittering armor, as Minerva sprung from the head of Jove. While I lay quiet in the bushes I learned the reason. One youngster sat on the nest edge, stretched his wings, combed out his tail, lengthened his neck and May, 1905 | HUMMINGBIRD STUDIES 61 preened the feathers of his breast. Then he tried his wings. They began slowly as if getting up steam. He made them buzz till they fairly lifted him off his feet. He had to hang on to keep from going; he could fly but the time was not ripe. A little gnat buzzed slowly past within two inches of his eye. The nestling instinctively stabbed at the in- sect but fell short. Each bant- ling took turns at practising on the edge of the nest till they mastered the art of balancing and rising in the air. Below the hummer’s nest the water trickled down the basin of the canyon. One of these tiny pools was the hummer’s bath-tub. It was shallow enough at the edge for her to drop her feet and wade. For a moment her wing-tips and tail would skim the surface and it was all over. She dressed and adult rufous hummer sunning itself on clothes-line preened with all the formality of a queen. After the bath I watched her circle about the clusters of the geranium and drink at the honey-cups of the columbine. She seemed only to will to be at a flower and she was there; the hum of the wings was all th at told the secret. She was a marvel in the air. She backed as easily as she darted forward. She side-stepped, rose or dropped as easily as she poised. I have never known exact- ly what to think of the male rufous. I never saw sudh an enthusiastic lover during the days of courtship and the beginning of house-building. He simply ran crazy-mad in love. As soon as the cottony cup was finished and the mother had cradled her twin white eggs, the father dis- appeared. He merely dropped out of existence, as Bradford Torre}' says, leaving a widow YOUNG RUFOUS HUMMER W‘th tllC twi»S 011 ^ ll3ndS. This generally seems to be the case, for at the different nests where I have watched, I never but once saw a 62 THE CONDOR Vol. VII male hummer near the nest after the young were hatched. I was lying in the shade of the bushes a few feet from the nest one afternoon. For two whole days, I had been watching and photographing and no other hummer had been near. Suddenly, a male darted up the canyon and lit on a dead twig opposite the nest. He hadn’t settled before the mother hurtled at him. I jumped up to watch. They shot up and down the hillside like winged bullets, through trees and over stumps, the mother, with tail spread and all the while squeaking like mad. It looked like the chase of two meteors, that were likely to disappear in a shower of sparks, had they struck anything. If it was the father, he didn't get a squint at the bantlings. If it was a bachelor a-wooing, he got a hot reception. I can’t believe the male rufous is an intentional shirk and a de- serter. I think somewhere back through the generations of hum- mingbird experience, it was found that such bright colors and such YOUNG RUFOUS HUMMERS ON NEST IN BLACKBERRY BUSH , , , , , devotion about the home were clues, unmistakable for enemies. It is therefore the law of self-protection, that he keep away entirely during the period of incubation and the rearing of the young. Portland , Oregon. The Future Problems and Aims of Ornithology LETTERS FROM PROF. ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE, DR. LEONHARD STEJNEGER, AND DR. PHILIP LUTLEY SCLATER EDITORIAL, NOTE. Occasionally it is said, half seriously, that ornithology is becoming overworked, and this sentiment is usually evident in some of the less scientific literature of the day. Perhaps it is not stated boldly, but an acute reader may sometimes peruse between the lines. Concerning strictly scientific ornithology I am optimistic, because the limits of work in this line de- pend upon the limitations of the worker. In other words if a science, and espec- ially one of the biological sciences, begins to play out, as it were, it is usually a good sign that something is wrong either with the scientist or his methods, or with both. Recently I sent a number of questions to several well-known ornitholog- ists with the intention of gaining their ideas concerning the future aims of ornith- ology, and its special problems. A few indulgent scientists have kindly respond- ed, and I feel sure the letters will prove of more than passing value to professional May, 1905 | THE FUTURE PROBLEMS AND AIMS OP ORNITHOLOGY 63 and amateur alike. No harm, at any rate, can arise from a sober discussion of a subject of common interest. It will be readily understood, of course, that these letters do not in any manner constitute a controversy, but represent only a free- will expression of the writers’ opinions. The series will be continued in the July issue. — W. K. F. Broadstone, Wimborne, England, February 22, 1905. Dear Sir: The chief department of Zoology that I take much interest in now, is the carrying out of experimental observations on the various alleged instincts of the higher animals (as the alleged instinct of direction) and also of experiments to prove or disprove the alleged heredity of acquired characters , and similar problems. With such a large endowment as the Leland Stanford University has, I wonder some experimental farm for these purposes has not been founded. Almost every other department of biology seems now to be overdone — except also the accurate observation of animal life in the tropics , for the purpose of detecting the utility of all the special characters of the various groups of land animals. I trust these hints may induce some students with independent means to take up some of these studies. Yours very truly, [Signed] Alfred R. Wallace. Washington, D. C., February 20, 1905. Dear Mr. Fisher: I thank you very much for your letter of February 2, and for the chance you give me to express my views on the future aims and work of ornithology, for such is the import of your questions, though worded differently for the specific purpose of advising the younger generation, i. e., the future ornithologists, those who are to take up the work where we are leaving it. Allow me therefore to reply more in general without taking up your questions formally and seriatim. I hope that by the time I am through an answer to most of them may be gathered from what I have to say. Throughout your inquiry there manifests itself a certain 'regret akin to that of Alexander the Great, when he despaired because there were no more worlds to conquer, as if all the work had been accomplished by this time, and that none — at least of any importance — has been left for the younger men. For my own part, I only regret that I was born too early, that I became an ornithologist at a time when only the rough work fell to our lot. The generations before ours cleared the underbrush, broke the ground, ploughed a small part of it, and put in some seed. The generation to which we belong has ploughed other patches and put in some more seed. We have seen some tender sprouts come up, we have weeded and watered in spots, but we have wasted an enormous amount of work, and energy, because we had only experience bought at the expense of many failures to teach us. We have discovered that those before us did not plough deep enough and that most of our own work, even, has to be gone over again. Moreover, when we started out, we did not first take into consideration the nature of the soil. We spent as much work on the w’aste land as on the fertile ground capable of producing crops. But we have learned something, and the future generation will profit by our mistakes. They will see the whole field in bloom and some of them may live to taste the first ripe fruits. 64 THE CONDOR Von. VII This may seem a hard judgement on the work done, well intentioned and faithfully as it has been done. The workers are not to be blamed; they knew no better, could not know better. The work in ornithology has suffered exactly the same fate as nearly all the work in the biological sciences. The fact nevertheless remains, that most of the seed has fallen on stony, desert ground, and that conse- quently the sickly plants which came up withered under the rays of the scorching sun. Took over the amazing pile of literature which ornithologists have accumu- lated during the past century! You might fill room ofter room with such a library. And think of all the work involved and the money expended in the gigantic un- dertaking! Not only the cost of the books themselves, though some of the works run up into the hundreds of dollars, but cost of establishing and maintaining all the collections, private and public, which form the basis of all this accumulation. So vast is the pile that it requires bibliographic experts, for this branch alone, to keep track of the production. Nearly a score of journals, especially devoted to or- nithology, have been pouring a flood of literature, every one, two, or three months, over the head of the unlucky ornithologist, not to speak of all the other innumer- able biological journals, magazines, bulletins, and proceedings which nearly all contain ornithological matter. It is highly amusing to read Tennn inch’s despair- ing declamation, in the epilogue of his “Manuel d’Ornithologie,” of 1840", against the overwhelming deluge of periodicals, “from the southern part of Australia to the ice of the [north] pole.” He ought to live today! And in all this colossal ag- gregation, how much is of permanent value! When a man is searching for records of real, detailed facts to be used in solving any of the enticing problems which spring up all around us, how many hundreds of papers has he not to go through without finding a single, solitary fact upon which he can rely. If he is a worker with means and men at his disposal, he will turn his back upon the books and pamphlets, and send his agent into the field, if he cannot go himself, to ascertain that fact. And in most cases I think it will be found that the field is not in some distant continent in a place where no white man has yet set his foot, but right in some nearer region where ornithologists have repeatedly collected and studied, often even in localities famed for their ornithological associations! The ploughing must in many cases be done over again! We must plough deeper! With the exception of a large amount of the preliminary work done in this country during the last forty years and some of that recently begun in other coun- tries, it must all be done over again, but in an entirely different manner. The new work must be done according to plan and system, and with well-defined ob- jects in view. The essentials must be recognized, the unnecessary ballast thrown overboard. Not only the main connecting features must be kept in mind and not lost sight of in the mass of details, but the latter must be worked out with such conscientious care and accuracy as only a few great men of the former ornitholog- ical generation applied or ever dreamt of. The other minutiae which have no bearing on the ornithological problems can be left to those whose chief aim is not the advancement of science but their own private amusement. They do not con- cern us in this connection. It is plain that ornithology is thus to put on a new aspect. The trouble be- fore has been to a great extent that ornithologists were ornithologists and nothing more. But if they are not to become mere sciolists in fact, they must occupy the broad field of zoology or better still, biology. Zoology itself is changing its aspects, and the sooner ornithology follows suit, the better. Now by this I do not mean that the end has come to specialization. Far from a Volume IV, pp. 658-659. May, 1905 | THE FUTURE PROBLEMS AND AIMS OF ORNITHOLOGY 65 it yet, unfortunately! On the contrary, we must specialize still more than before, but the specialization must take place along entirely different lines from what it has been before, and at the same time the connection with the whole must not be lost. We have now specialists whose specially is North American birds, or Florida birds, or New England owls, or Californian gulls; some whose business it is to split up all the fine races within a group of limited extent, either zoologically or geographically; others who make a specialty of eggs, of feather tracts, of bones, etc. A new line of cleavage is distinctly visible in zoology; the so-called systematic zoologist has already parted company from the histologist, and embryologist. The mere classifier and describer will soon be distanced. Birds in the future will be studied in the light of other sciences, such as geography and physiography, and in the light of study of other animals or of plants. Meteorology and biometric meth- ods, paleontology, and cartography will all claim attenton of the future ornithologists. This new tendency was forcibly impressed upon meat the last meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in Philadelphia (Dec. 1904). Of course I belong to Section F, Zoology; but though I am by no means an ex- treme specialist, there was but one paper that had any relation to the work I am doing, and the author of this paper afterwards told me that had he known of a more appreciative audience, he would have presented it there. If he had accom- panied me, he would have found it. I turned to the Association of Arne. lean Geographers just then forming. There I found congenial spirits. There was a man whose specialty is fresh water mussels, another whose object of study is cer- tain orders of insects, another who was a botanist, and so forth. But I listened with interest to all they had to say, and they repaid me the same compliment be- cause we were all interested in the same problem, to the solution of which we each contributed our mite. There was the geologist who discussed the past history of the ground, where our animals or plants are now located, and there was the ex- plorer and the physiographer who described the prominent features of the country where the objects of our study live; and we began to see the connection between the past and present. A zoologist read a paper, a physiographer and a paleonto- logist discussed it! I do not believe that I am wrong, when pointing in this direction for the guid- ance of the future ornithologist. He has the whole world before him to reconquer;,, he need not lose heart for fear of having nothing to do. But he must study, he must study hard and many things. He must study under competent teachers, and be satisfied to be guided some time before he can stand on his own legs. The time of the autodidact is past. Now, as before, there will continue to be two kinds of scientific ornithologists, one who spends most of his time in the field, and one who spends most of his time in the closet; but the distinction must gradually cease to one of reproach. In the future no ornithologist who confines himself to the closet will ever rise to the highest point in his science. By this I do not mean that he must necessarily spend his time in studying birds’ habits, song, etc., but he must know the habitat and station of the birds he deals with in all their aspects from actual personal observations in the field, or he will fail to properly interpret their interrelations to their surroundings in space and time. I cannot imagine the future ornithologist or zoologist, working exclusively in his closet any more than the geologist, and for the same reason. After this it is not difficult to specify the qualifications the future ornitholog- ist must possess. Apart from aptitude for scientific pursuit, he must be well grounded in the fundamental principles of biology. He should have an extensive knowledge of general zoology; a not too elementary course in geology, especially 66 THE CONDOR VOL. VII glacial geology, and in physiography, is indispensable; he then must acquire by patient work in the closet the vast amount of detailed knowledge of species and subspecies, and by training in the field the necessary qualifications as collector and observer. When he has thus mastered his “technique” he will be prepared totake up various problems under proper guidance, and in course of time be able to take a leading part in advancing a branch of zoology which has always held a prominent and honorable place among the biological sciences. It is not necessary for me here to indicate the many problems which await so- lution. Let the young student of ornithology prepare himself under competent teachers, and if he amounts to anything, lie will soon be associated in the work, and guided toward the problems which present themselves. As a rule, the man of science does not go around hunting for problems, asking himself: “What shall I investigate next?” On the contrary, the problems grip him by the throat, and demand to be solved, and give him no rest until he tackles them and subdues them as best he can with the weapons he can command. I am afraid you wish me to give the young man more definite advice along specified lines. This I am unable to do, but it seems to me that if he reads the above, he may be able to formulate his own “do” and “don’t.” 1 have only been wanting to speak to the earnest student who desires to follow ornithology as a science , and a life work. My advice is not for the man or boy who seeks in bird study an agreeable pastime, or an interesting hobby. They need not my advise, and would not take it if given! Do not think that I am down on the amateur as such; on the contrary, I am not. He is, and has been, exceedingly useful. But it is the amateur who poses as a scientific ornithologist without having the true scientific instinct who is a nuisance. The amateur’s proper field is the gathering of facts, the professional’s is to apply them. While the former requires some train- ing in order that his observations may be of value, the latter requires the prepara- tion and training which only a life devoted exclusively to the scientific subject can give. And right here is the difference between the professional and amateur in science, in contradistinction to the meaning of the two terms in sport. In the latter, the criterion is whether the man performs a certain work for money, or not; in science it depends upon whether the scientific pursuit is the main activity of the man’s life, or only a side issue subordinate to other work and other duties. It is for the future professional ornithologist that I have written. Yours sincerely, [Signed] Leonhard Stejneger. Odiham Priory, Winchfield, England, Feb. 24, 1905. Dear Mr. Fisher: In reply to your questions I may say that there is still an enormous amount of good work to be done in Ornithology, especially in the branches of Anatomy and Pterylography, in which there are few workers at present. But I should not recommend any students to take it up solely with the idea that they could make a livelihood on it. They might be disappointed. But if they have a real love of birds let them pay special attention to these branches, as recommended in several of the prefaces to “The Ibis.” Yours very faithfully, P. L. Sc EATER. [Signed] May, 1905 | PORTRAITS OF EUROPEAN ORNITHOLOGISTS 67 DR ANTON REICHENOW BERLIN PROF. COUNT TOMMASO SALVADOR! TURIN, ITALY MR. HENRY EELES DRESSER LONDON DR. OTTO FINSCH BRUNSWICK, GERMANY 68 Voi„. VII In Alaska’s Rain Belt BY WriiRED H. OSGOOD ALASKA and California naturally suggest contrast, particularly in respect to climate. Yet Alaska, in its various parts, like California, furnishes a great variety of weather. Each has its regions of comparative heat, cold, aridity, and humidity. California, however, goes to extremes in the matter of heat and aridity, while Alaska takes the palm for cold and humidity. From the collector’s standpoint, aridity and humidity are more important con- siderations than heat and cold. One who has worked in both humid and arid regions can scarcely refrain from drawing comparisons. Both have their attrac- tive features and in point of interest each has many claims, but on the practical side the arid or semi-arid region commends itself preeminently. Collectors who work in central and southern California, for example, seem to have things their own way. They are in a paradise for camping and collecting. They sleep under the stars every night and travel where they will. To be sure they must look for water occasionally, but usually they know where to find it. Birds are easily se- cured and nests easily found. After a successful morning, the happy collector sits him down anywhere that suits his fancy and prepares his specimens. These, once prepared, soon dry and maybe packed away safely. In the humid region, the collector must travel largely by water; his entire outfit must be enclosed in waterproofing, his guns, ammunition, and photographic material requiring special care. He always pitches a tent at night and goes to sleep on his rubber blanket to the music of the rain pattering on the canvas. In the morning he crawls out in the wet and after much trouble starts a smouldering fire. His clothes are soaked much of the time; and his specimens are wet and be- draggled before he begins work on them, and when prepared, however nicely, soon become mushy, moldy caricatures requiring constant care for weeks after they are collected. This is not a recital of personal troubles, though I have experienced them all many times; it is merely the natural comparison that comes to mind when one undertakes to write for a California journal an account of collecting in the humid coast belt of x\laska. In the spring of 1903, while waiting for the opening of navigation on the Yukon, I made a short trip to Prince of Wales Island. This is one of the south- ernmost of the group known on maps as the Alexander Archipelago and with the exception of Kodiak, is the largest of the many islands scattered so thickly along Alaska’s coast. It is in the heart of the rain belt, and, as I had been there before, I knew what to expect. When the sun shines it is one of the most beautiful re- gions in the world, but so rarely does this occur that it becomes an event and the clear air and bright light seem like food and drink. The great humidity is accom- panied by a comparative evenness of temperature throughout the year. Conse- quently vegetation is luxuriant. The magnificent forests are chiefly of coniferous trees, often festooned with mosses and lichens and rising from tangles of shrubs. The rank growths can scarcely be duplicated outside the tropics and are so difficult to penetrate that even the Indians seldom attempt to go far from the coast. My most pleasant ornithological experiences on Prince of Wales Island were crowded into two days late in May, when I went by canoe to the head of Twelve Mile Arm, a continuation of Kasaan Bay, which is the most important indenta- tion on the east coast of the island. Leaving the small mining settlement of Hollis May, 1905 | IN ALASKA’S RAIN BELT 69 a little too late to get much assistance from the ebbing tide, we pulled out from the protected harbor into the narrow forest-girt fiord, hoping for a fair wind on the long stretch ahead of us. But the wind was not fair — it never is, it seems, except for the fellow going the other way — and there was nothing for it but to sail with the old reliable ‘ash breeze.’ So we bent to it for nearly four hours, hugging the shore, taking every lee and eddy, and buffeting the combined wind and tide only when it could not be avoided. It was raining as was to be expected, but we were prepared for it; ourselves incased in oilskins, our blankets and provisions in waterproof canvas bags, and our guns well smeared with grease and lying within reach under a tarpaulin. Along the Arm we saw a few common water birds. Now and then a black-throated loon bobbed up, and as it dove on our approach we amused our- selves in the usual way speculating as to where it would reappear. Small parties of the chunky little marbled murrelets floated unconcernedly over the choppy water, until we came within the danger limit, and then quickly disappeared be- neath the surface. Clumsy scoters, both the American and the white-winged, were seen here and there. Once a flock of a dozen or more scaup ducks flew over, and now and then an American merganser streaked by. Spotted sandpipers flitted along the shore from one point to another and mingled their musical little whistles with the harsh cries of the abundant and insistent ravens. From the depths of the forest occasionally came the cries of crested jays or perhaps from afar off the high- pitched trill of the varied thrush. A stream enters the head of the Arm and winds through open grassy flats for the last mile of its course. A few straggling trees thrive on elevated knolls about the border of the flats and at high tide become insular. Most of the year these flats are beautiful open meadows, being entirely inundated only by the extreme high tides of spring. Bird life is usually somewhat concentrated at the head of such a long inlet, and this case was no exception. As we approached, a large flock of crows ( Corvus centrums') started from a clump of detached trees and wheeled slowly over the meadow cawing vociferously. Their alarm was soon communicat- ed to hundreds of geese which we could now plainly see scattered over the flats and along the muddy banks of the tidal sloughs. In another moment, with min- gled cawing and cackling and now and then an added cry from a gull, the place was a pandemonium. A few flocks of the geese, which were all of the white- cheeked variety ( Bran/a c. occidenialis) , took flight but many remained on the flat walking about, craning their necks, and cackling in much concern. It was nearly night and still raining, so on discovering a deserted cabin near the beach, we quickly put ashore and camped in its shelter. Dry wood had evi- dently been at a premium here, for the interior of the cabin was stripped of nearly everything burnable that would not sacrifice shelter. Even the floor, which was several feet above the ground, had been burned piecemeal by successive camp- ing parties until only a few boards remained. We also levied a small tribute and managed to keep enough blaze to cook our meal and furnish light. By careful ad- justment our blankets were so spread on the remnants of the floor that it was possible to roll in without dropping through to the ground. Soon the tide rose and we lay and listened to the lap of the water as it came nearer and nearer the house, shivering to think of the catastrophe that might occur should we roll over too far while asleep. However sleep soon came, followed without conscious inter- mission by waking at daylight. It was muggy in the morning but not raining and we were soon exploring the flats. The geese were again scattered about feeding and in such large num- bers that they appeared like the flocks one sees in the fall of the year. Still I 7o THE CONDOR Voi.. VII knew they must be breeding, and it was not long before proof was secured. On a little high tide island supporting a single spruce tree, an old goose was flushed from her nest of five eggs. She floundered out of the thick branches about the base of the tree with a great commotion and made off to join the flocks at the up- per end of the flat. A short search on hands and knees under the tree revealed the nest and the warm eggs. The nest was a slight hollow in the sandy ground, lined with spruce needles, bits of dead grass, vegetable refuse, and a small quantity of down and feathers. In completeness and compactness it could not compare with the nests of many of our ducks. This was on May 22 and the eggs were quite fresh. Later in the day, another nest freshly made but without eggs was found in an exactly similar location. On returning to the first nest toward evening we failed to surprise the bird again, but found the eggs carefully covered with feathers. We soon left the flats and spent the greater part of the day on the mountains in search of ptarmigan, which we had been told were to be found about timber- line. After a fierce tussle with the thick undergrowth, we finally emerged in a series of beautiful open glades high up on the mountain and above them found open slopes with banks of snow scattered about. We crossed many of these glades and saw much of interest but failed to see any ptarmigan, though our doubts as to their occurrence were set at rest by finding several shed feathers, pure white and unmistakable. O11 the way down the mountain I was proceeding cautiously along a well beaten deer trail in hopes of seeing a deer or even a bear, as signs of them were numerous, when a whirr of wings at one side and not three feet from the trail, brought me to a standstill and caused me to whirl in my tracks in time to see a grouse pass through the network of branches and alight in a nearby hemlock. I lost no time in bringing it to the ground and was both pleased and surprised to find it a Canac Hites, of what species I did not feel certain since it was a female. I even entertained the thought that it might represent a new species. At least it was new to that part of Alaska and possibly to the Territory. Subsequent com- parison showed it to be Canachites frank/ini, previously unknown from any part of Alaska. Careful examination of the ground from which it was flushed brought to light its nest, a depression in a bed of moss, thickly overlaid with dead spruce needles, and well sheltered by a tiny seedling spruce. It contained five eggs which I wrapped in a handkerchief and placed in the top of my hat. The return through the thick woods was somewhat retarded by this breakable burden, but after several hours of carefully threading the labyrinth, I reached camp. On the mountain many small birds were seen, the most important being: Dry- obates v . picoideus, Sphyrapicus r. notkensis, Empidouax dijjicilis, Cyanocitta s. car- lotta:, Junco h. oreganus , Helminthophila c. lutescens, Dendroica tow7isendi, Wilsonia p. pileolata , Olbiorchilus h. pad ficus. Partis rufescens , Hvlocichla guttata , and Ixoreus ncsvius. The next morning the boat was loaded for the return to Hollis. Just as we were starting, a small hawk, doubtless a black merlin ( Falco c. suckleyi), came soar- ing over the flat toward us. This was a bird I had long been looking for and I wanted it, in fact I ‘wanted it bad’. Hastily taking a couple of shells from a wet pocket of my shooting coat, I started to put them into the gun, but they were swelled by the dampness and when about half way in stuck fast and would neither go in nor come out. Meanwhile the bird seemed to understand and took an un- usual interest in us, approaching nearer and nearer and finally sailing almost directly over the boat. And I stood there trying with might and main first to get those shells in and then desperately wrenching to get them out. All the while l May, 1905 IN ALASKA’S RAIN BELT 71 could think of nothing but the well known picture called ‘The Tight Shell,’ which one sees advertised in the sporting journals. The bird is perhaps still at large, and the shells, which finally did go in, were rapidly discharged at the empty air, mak- ing a fitting climax to a short but vigorous series of atmospheric disturbances that had preceded them. Washington , D. C. Midwinter Birds on the Mojave Desert BY JOSEPH MAILLIARD AND JOSEPH GRINNEEL THE midwinter collecting trip of 1903-04 had been so pleasantly participated in by the authors of this article that it was proposed to repeat the experience the following year, with the difference of a change of base, and the addition of a student assistant for each of us. After thinking over various localities it was decided that Victorville, near the southern edge of the Mojave Desert would prob- ably prove an interesting point, and one at which but little work had ever been done. This locality was near enough to the bases of the San Bernardino and San Gabriel Ranges so that mountain birds should be found during stormy weather dispersed at the lower levels along with northern visitants and the resident desert species. Victorville is a small settlement on the line of the A. T. & S. F. railroad be- tween Barstow and San Bernardino, thirty-seven miles south of the former. The Mojave River runs past the place, cutting through some picturesque rocks just above the town, and finally loses itself in the desert sands below' Barstow. Its source is in the wood-covered San Bernardino Mountains to the south, and along its banks are groves of cottonwoods, many of these trees being of large size and the groves quite extensive in places. On each side of the river the desert stretches away in a varied assortment of plains, rolling hills, and bare rocky mountains. The usual desert bushes are but thinly scattered over its surface, affording little cover for the permanently resident birds; and while the tree yuccas are in evi- dence, chiefly towards the south, they are much less numerous than we had hoped to find them. The party consisted of the authors and three students from the Throop Poly- technic Institute of Pasadena. One of these, Philip Finger, was Mr. Mailliard’s assistant; another, Joseph Dixon, Mr. Grinnell’s; while the third, Walter P. Taylor, ornithologized on his own account. Owing to the scarcity of cover in the desert proper, birds proved very scarce there, and we soon found that most of our collect- ing would have to be done among the cottonwoods along the river, and about the large alfalfa field two miles north of town. A small irrigating ditch from the river above ran through this field, with seepage-sinks here and there containing reeds and willows, and we discovered that these were the abiding places of numerous song sparrows, which, when disturbed or when feeding, scattered out to weed patches in the vicinity. These birds had evidently come from many parts of the west, so that this locality seemed to serve as a sort of winter meeting place for them. We captured what looked to be quite a variety, but which finally worked down to three races, with intermediate examples, as shown in the annotated list to follow. 72 THE CONDOR | Vol. yn Another large alfalfa field on the other side of town and beyond the deep gorge through which the river ran, was a most promising looking spot, containing as it did, an attractive laguna. But we were very positively informed that “no shooting allowed” was to be carried out to the letter of the signs displayed, and while the calaboose in the town was not a formidable looking place, we concluded it safest to give up our inclinations in that direction. This part of the Mojave Desert is about 2700 feet above the sea, and, unlike the California portion of the Colorado Desert, where we had found the weather so moderate the previous winter, has a variable and somewhat wintry climate. Though rain in any quantity but seldom falls, the wind makes itself felt with a fierce energy that is truly exasperating. During our stay from December 21, 1904, to January 2, 1905, inclusive, we had two days with slight rain, many with heavy wind, some of them cloudy and exceedingly chilly, several nights of severe frost when water froze in the kitchen of our cottage, and only two days when warm sunshine and clear air gave us a taste of the sort of weather we would have most desired for comfort and collecting. Some days we would have to keep almost on the run, even in bright sunshine until as late as ten o’clock in the morning to keep warm, and then with hands too cold to handle guns or specimens properly.. Doubtless our light clothing, and the fact that we had been long accustomed to the more equable California coast climate, rendered us particularly sensitive to this cold, which in the eastern states might have been deemed moderate for the season. Some days we would find almost nothing in the bird line, though possibly picking up something unexpected on the way back to headquarters, while on others we would make a good haul. Whether this was due only to the weather, which did not always seem to be the case — as when a fine day would be barren of results — or whether the birds were moving up and down the river, if not actually migrating, we could not determine. But certainly our daily “horizons” were as- tonishingly uneven, and in such a way that the weather could hardly be called to account for the difference. We had expected to find cactus wrens, sage thrashers, and the different desert sparrows at least fairly abundant in this locality, with the Texas woodpecker rela- tively numerous, to say nothing of visions of Leconte thrashers; but in all this we were more or less disappointed. Mesquites and the different forms of cactus were almost entirely wanting, the tree yuccas were widely scattered, while the sage and creosote bushes were lamentably thin. In consequence most of our work in the desert proper brought scant returns, rock wrens, a very few cactus wrens, some sage, and intermediate sparrows being almost the only inhabitants, though we were afforded an occasional tantalizing glimpse of a Leconte thrasher. The cottonwoods along the river, on the other hand, abounded in heavy growths of mistletoe, the berries of which seemed extremely attractive to the ma- jority of the visiting birds. Of these the western bluebird was most in evidence, sometimes widely dispersed in small groups feeding in the mistletoe clumps, and at other times collected in large flocks among the tops of the trees. The mountain bluebird was occasionally met with out in the open, but never in the woods. Some phainopeplas and a few Townsend soletaires seemed highly appreciative of the flavor of the mistletoe berries, while at intervals a flock of cedar-birds would be encountered eagerly devouring the transparent little fruit. The capture of a Bo- hemian waxwing by Finger led us to hope that we would find more of these rare birds, but the hope was not verified and the specimen remained unique. Rocky Mountain creepers were now and then discovered busily engaged in their detective May, 1905 | MIDWINTER BIRDS ON THE MOJAVE DESERT 73 work among tbe crevices of the cottonwood bark, but they were seldom seen, their faint notes being the principal evidence of their presence. Mountain chickadees, which one naturally associates with mountains and coniferous trees, were quite numerous, their cheery song being heard even under the most unfavorable weather conditions. An active company was frequently encountered among the cotton- woods busily engaged in their usual business of hunting up food, their utter fear- lessness showing in strong contrast to the timidity of many of the other species. Intermediate sparrows and Sierra juncos were very numerous in places along the railroad, the former as usual making it exasperating work for the collector to single out and pursue any other species in their vicinity. The intermediates were sure to scatter in all direct- more than seemed necessary to establish the identity of the majority However, it was our good fortune to cap- ture a few specimens of the slate-colored junco. The records of this eastern race have become so numerous for southern California, that we must begin to consider it a regular winter visitant, rather than a casual or “accidental” one. The taking of two orange-crowned warblers leads to similar views. It is scarcely possible that we came across every individual in the vicinity during our short stay, but on the contrary it is reason- able to assume that we saw but a small proportion of the total number of these birds so seldom met with in California, and that thorough investigation would show them to be fairly common in this part of the State. The capture of three horned owls was a great piece of good fortune, but we were disappointed in not finding any screech or pigmy owls in this locality, though of course any bird taken here in midwinter might have come down the river from ions and mix up with any- thing else that happened to be near them. The juncos, too, were somewhat disturb- ing for the reason that we always felt there might be some unsuspected subspecies among them; and yet we were always loth to destroy TREE YUCCAS. SHOWING THINNESS OF DESERT BRUSH 74 THE CONDOR | Voi.. VII the mountains instead of being bona fide residents. The horned owls, however, most evidently belong in the desert, as hereinafter noted. When we first arrived in Victorville we naturally enquired if there were many birds about the neighborhood. As is often the case we were assured that there were very few, possibly half a dozen kinds! We actually noted 72 varie- ties, as the following list shows. Anas boschas. Mallard. Mareca americana. Baldpate. Nettion carolinense. Green-winged Teal. Ducks were rather common along the Mojave River. The above three species were represented among those shot in the immediate vicinity of Victorville during our visit, either by ourselves or by local sportsmen. Fulica americana. American Coot. Numerous about lagoons in the river bottom. Gallinago delicata. Wilson Snipe. Snipe were present in small numbers along the river, according to local hunters. Specimens secured during our stay were examined by us. Oxyechus vociferus. Killdeer. Few along the river. Lophortyx californicus vallicolus. Valley Quail. One flock of quail was discovered in the river bottom a mile or so below Victorville. The birds obtained were of the above species, which has doubtless penetrated this far into the desert from the southward by the way of the Mojave River. The desert quail was not detected here, but we were told of its occurrence on the desert twenty miles to the eastward. Accipiter velox. Sharp-shinned Hawk. Two were shot and others seen among the cottonwoods of the river bottom. One of those secured was in the act of slaughtering a Townsend solitaire. Accipiter cooperi. Cooper Hawk. Several were seen in the river bottom. Buteo borealis calurus. Western Red-tail. Fairly common along the cottonwoods. Falco mexicanus. Prairie Falcon. Two were seen dying over the desert. Falco sparverius. American Sparrow Hawk. Common. Noted among the tree-yuccas far out on the desert as well as along the river bottom. Strix pratincola. American Barn Owl. Several were noted in the vicinity of the alfalfa patch in the river bottom below Victorville. At dusk the owls emerged from the cottonwoods and began beating back and fourth over the fields on the hunt for meadow-mice. One bird was seen to plunge abruptly into the grass, and so intent was it upon its capture, that it was very closely approached. There was every evidence that the owl had thrust its foot and leg far down a burrow in pursuit of the fleeing mouse. Nyctalops wilsonianus. American Long-eared Owl. Two were obtained at the alfalfa patch. Their stomachs were full of the remains of meadow-mice (Afi- crotus californicus) and kangaroo rats ( Dipodomys merriami.) Asio magellanicus pallescens. Pallid Horned Owl. Horned owls were act- ually plentiful along the river bottom where they evidently obtained a ready live- lihood. The stomachs of those secured were crammed with the remains of meadow- mice. The three specimens captured agree in characters which distinguish them from the race pacificus of the coast region of southern California. They are re- markably pale throughout, the feet and legs dorsally being totally unbarred, and white predominates over the dark markings on most of the under surface. They measure as follows: May, 1905 | MIDWINTER BIRDS ON THE MOJAVE DESERT 75 wing tail tarsus No. 6151 s Coll. J. & J. W. M. i3-65 8-75 2.46 No. 6150 J “ “ “ “ u 13.98 8.83 2.50 No. 6165 $ “ “ “ “ “ “ E3-23 8.87 2.72 Geococcyx californianus. Road-runner. One was taken and another one or two seen. Ceryle alcyon. Belted Kingfisher. One was seen flying along the river. Dryobates villosus hyloscopus. Cabanis Woodpecker. Moderately common among the cottonwoods. Dryobates scalaris bairdi. Texas Woodpecker. Not numerous, though found among the tree-yuccas out on the desert as well as in the cottonwoods. Holes found in tree-yuccas were thought to belong to this species. Two skins secured are indistinguishable from Arizona examples. But another ( <$ , No. 6191 Coll. J. COTTONWOODS WITH HEAVY GROWTH OF MISTLETOE & J. W. M), taken Dec. 26, exhibits such a combination of characters that it may reasonably be considered a hybrid between bairdi and nuttalli. It seems quite likely that cross-breeding occurs along the edge of the desert south of Hesperia, where the tree-yuccas extend to the very base of the San Bernardino Mountains, sothatthe habitats of bairdi and nuttalli adjoin each other with no hiatus intervening. Dryobates nuttalli. Nuttall Woodpecker. A single specimen taken in the cottonwoods (?, No. 6162 Coll. J. & J. W. M.) Dec. 26, is quite typical of this species. It was probably a straggling visitant from the southward, following the cottonwood-lined Mojave River down from the San Bernardino Mountains. Colaptes cafer collaris. Red shafted Flicker. Common along the river-bot- tom. A “hybrid,” with decided auratus tendencies was secured. Sayornis saya. Say Phoebe. A few noted in the river-bottom, and one out on the desert. ?6 THE CONDOR | Vo i,. VII Sayornis nigricans. Black Phoebe. A very few observed along the river. Otocoris alpestris ammophila. Mojave Horned Lark. But few horned larks were seen, and these eluded our pursuit. No specimens were secured, but it seems highly probable that they belonged to the Mojave Desert race. Corvus corax sinuatus. American Raven. Presumably this species. Com- mon in the vicinity, but wary as usual. They refused to be shot, or even trapped! Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus. Yellow-headed Blackbird. One lone indi- vidual was seen by Mailliard in the river bottom. Sturnella neglecta. Western Meadowlark. Several meadowlarks frequented the alfalfa patch and pastures below Victorville. Euphagus cyanocephalus. Brewer Blackbird. Large flocks remained close about town or visited the cattle pastures nearby. Carpodacus mexicanus frontalis. House Finch. Not at all numerous; in fact, met with only on a few occasions about cultivated tracts in the river bottom. Astragalinus psaltria hesperophilus. Green-backed Goldfinch. A very few noted in the river bottom. Astragalinus tristis salicamans. Willow Goldfinch. Small companies were often met with feeding in weed patches near the river. Spinus pinus. Pine Siskin. One specimen was secured from a small flock feeding in a weed patch. Passerculus sandwichensis alaudinus. Western Savanna Sparrow. Abund- ant in the alfalfa patch and adjacent fields. Chondestes grammacus strigatus. Western Lark Sparrow. A scattering flock was regularly observed in the neighborhood of the alfalfa patch, generally in company with juncos. Zonotrichia leucophrys gambeli. Intermediate Sparrow. Very common in the brush all along the river. Sometimes met with in “sage” bushes far out on the desert. Spizella socialis arizonae. Western Chipping Sparrow. Small numbers were detected with flocks of juncos in the river bottom. Junco hyemalis. Slate-colored Junco. Three specimens were taken and at least three others were seen. The captures may be recorded as follows: ?, No. 6243 Coll. J. G., Dec. 30; $ , No. 6146 Coll. J. & J. W. M., Dec. 24; $ , No. 6259 Coll. J. & J. W. M., Dec. 31. All were in company with individuals of thurberi. Junco hyemalis thurberi. Sierra Junco. Very numerous in flocks or small companies all through the bottom lands near the river. Among the considerable series secured, none seem referable to any other of the western races. Amphispiza belli nevadensis. Nevada Sage Sparrow'. Amphispiza belli canescens. California Sage Sparrow. Sage Sparrow's were fairly common out on the desert, and on sage flats nearer the river. Out of eighteen specimens brought home, nine are referable to neva- densis and nine to canescens. The smaller size of the latter, with slightly darker coloration, is the diagnostic feature. Canescens evidently reaches this vicinity by a short journey from the southern Sierras to the westward; w'hile nevadensis must come by a much longer route from almost due north. The latter is not knowm to breed south of about 36° Lat., and entirely east of the Sierra Nevada. Melospiza cinerea montana. Mountain Song Sparrow. Melospiza cinerea merrilli. Merrill Song Sparrow. Melospiza cinerea cooperi. San Diego Song Sparrow. Out of forty-nine song sparrows collected by the party twenty-seven are refer- able to montana, two to merrilli, and twenty to cooperi. Among those referred to montana May, 1905 | MIDWINTER BIRDS ON THE MOJAVE DESERT 77 are several not typical as compared with Colorado examples. These show7 in varying degree an approach toward merrilli , and doubtless came from the north- western part of the Great Basin region, where the breeding ranges of montana and merrilli merge. The cooperi individuals doubtless invaded northward along the Mojave River from the San Diegan district. If any song sparrow at all breeds along the Mojave River it is surely cooperi. Melospiza lincolni striata. Forbush Sparrow. A large specimen ( $ , No. 6267 Coll. J. & J. W. M.) shot by Finger, Jan. 1, was the only one found. It presents the characters of of typical striata , the breeding grounds of which is in the Sitkan district of southeastern Alaska. Ampelis garrulus. Bohemian Waxwing. A single male specimen of this circum-boreal species was shot by Pinger in the afternoon of Dec. 31, and is now No. 6258, Coll. J. & J. W. M. The bird was alone, feeding on mistletoe berries in a cottonwood near the railroad station. A storm had prevailed during the previ- ous night and forenoon, and the distant mountains were whitened w7ith snow. The only other known instance of the occurrence of the Bohemian waxwing in the southwest was just forty-four years ago, when Dr. Cooper obtained a specimen near Fort Mojave on the Arizona side of the Colorado River. “It appeared on January 10th [1871], after a stormy period which had whitened the tops of the mountains with snow, and was alone feeding on the berries of the mistletoe, when I shot it.” (Orn. Cal. I, 1870, 128.) Note the coincidence of circumstances! As a bird of California the Bohemian waxwing has been previously recorded only from Plumas and Lassen counties in the northeastern corner of the State. It may also be worthy of remark that the present record is apparently the southernmost (34^2°) f°r North America, and even for the world ! Ampelis cedrorum. Cedar waxwing. Several small flocks were encountered among the cottonwoods, where the birds were feeding on mistletoe berries. Phainopepla nitens. Phainopepla. Fairly common among the cottonwoods, feeding on mistletoe berries. Lanius ludovicianus gambeli. California Shrike. Shrikes were not at all common. Individuals were noted far out on the desert, and an occasional one on the telegraph wires along the railroad. The two specimens secured have smallish bills, faintly brownish and dusky-vermiculated breasts, and dark tints generally. They thus seem most nearly referable to gambeli, being probably visitants to this locality from a northwesterly direction. (To be conclitded.') Summer Birds of the Papago Indian Reservation and of the Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona BY HARRY S. SWARTH ( Concluded from page go) BIRDS SEEN IN THE SANTA RITA MOUNTAINS Callipepla squamata. Scaled Partridge. A few individuals, not over half a dozen adults, were seen at different times on the mesa just below the mountains. A pair with a brood of young about the size of sparrows were seen on June 26. 78 THE CONDOR Voi,. VII Lophortyx gambeli. Gambel Partridge. Frequently seen and oftener heard calling in the ravine below the mountains. Columba fasciata. Band-tailed Pigeon. A pair or two were frequently seen in the vicinity of our camp. Towards the end of our stay they became much more abundant, and the last day or two a number of quite large flocks were seen. Zenaidura macroura. Mourning Dove. Very abundant along the lower canyons. Most of the birds seen were young of the year, full grown. Melopelia leucoptera. White-winged Dove. Very common in the lower parts of the mountains, hardly any being seen about our camp. But one nest was found, and of the specimens secured hardly any had the appearance of beingbreeding birds. Cathartes aura. Turkey Vulture. Frequently seen flying overhead. Accipiter v. pacificus