Chapter XV: Part 15
Range in Washington.—Of regular occurrence along all mountain streams.
Retires to lower levels, even, rarely, to sea-coast in winter.
Authorities.—_Cinclus mortoni_, Townsend, Narrative, April, 1839, p.
339. Also _C. townsendi_ “Audubon,” Ibid., p. 340. T. C&S. L¹. Rh. D¹.
Ra. D². B. E.
Specimens.—Prov. B. E.
“Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once and all o’er, with a mighty uproar;
And this way the Water comes down at Lodore.”
But the scene of aqueous confusion was incomplete unless a leaden shape emerged from the spray, took station on a jutting rock, and proceeded to rub out certain gruff notes of greeting, _jigic, jigic, jigic_. These notes manage somehow to dominate or to pierce the roar of the cataract, and they symbolize henceforth the turbulence of all the mountain torrents of the West.
The Water Ouzel bobs most absurdly as he repeats his inquiry after your health. But you would far rather know of his, for he has just come out of the icy bath, and as he sidles down the rock, tittering expectantly, you judge he is contemplating another one. Yes; without more ado the bird wades into the stream where the current is so swift you are sure it would sweep a man off his feet. He disappears beneath its surface and you shudder at the possibilities, but after a half minute of suspense he bursts out of the seething waters a dozen feet below and flits back to his rock chuckling cheerily. This time, it may be, he will rest, and you have opportunity to note the slightly _retroussé_ aspect of the beak in its attachment to the head. The bird has stopped springing now and stands as stolid as an Indian, save as ever and again he delivers a slow wink, upside down, with the white nictitating membrane.
It has been asserted that the Ouzel flies under water, but I think that this is a mistake, except as it may use its wings to reach the surface of the water after it has released its hold upon the bottom. The bird creeps and clings, rather, and is thus able to withstand a strong current as well as to attain a depth of several feet in quieter waters.
The Water Ouzel feeds largely upon the larvæ of the caddice fly, known locally as periwinkles. These are found clinging to the under surface of stones lining the stream, and their discovery requires quite a little prying and poking on the bird’s part. The Ouzels are also said to be destructive to fish fry, insomuch that the director of a hatchery in British Columbia felt impelled to order the destruction of all the Ouzels, to the number of several hundred, which wintered along a certain protected stream. This was a very regrettable necessity, if necessity it was, and one which might easily lead to misunderstanding between bird-men and fish-men. We are fond of trout ourselves, but we confess to being a great deal fonder of this adventuresome water-sprite.
The Ouzel is non-migratory, but the summer haunts of the birds in the mountains are largely closed to them in winter, so that they find it necessary at that season to retreat to the lower levels. This is done, as it were, reluctantly, and nothing short of the actual blanketing of snow or ice will drive them to forsake the higher waters. The bird is essentially solitary at this season, as in summer, and when it repairs to a lower station, along late in November, there is no little strife engendered by the discussion of metes and bounds. In the winter of 1895-6, being stationed at Chelan, I had occasion to note that the same Ouzels appeared daily along the upper reaches of the Chelan River. Thinking that such a local attachment might be due to similar occupation down stream, I set out one afternoon to follow the river down for a mile or so, and to ascertain, if possible, how many bird-squatters had laid out claims along its turbulent course. In places where there was an unusually long succession of rapids, it was not always possible to decide between the conflicting interests of rival claimants, for they flitted up and down overlapping by short flights each other’s domains; but the very fact that these overlappings often occasioned sharp passages at arms served to confirm the conclusion that the territory had been divided, and that each bird was expected to dive and bob and gurgle on his own beat. Thus, twenty-seven birds were found to occupy a stretch of two miles.
Here in winter quarters, the first courting songs were heard. As early as Christmas the birds began to tune up, and that quite irrespective of weather. But their utterances were as rare in time as they are in quality. In fact, it does not appear to be generally known that the Water Ouzel is a beautiful singer, and none of those who have been so fortunate as to hear its song, have heard enough to pass final judgment on it. We know, at least, that it is clear and strong and vivacious, and that in its utterance the bird recalls its affinity to both Thrushes and Thrashers.
The Ouzel places its nest beside some brawling stream, or near or behind some small cascade. In doing so, the chief solicitude seems to be that the living mosses, of which the bulky globe is composed, shall be kept moist by the flying spray, and so retain their greenness. Indeed, one observer reports that in default of ready-made conveniences, the bird itself turns sprinkler, not only alighting upon the dome of its house after returning from a trip, but visiting the water repeatedly for the sole purpose of shaking its wet plumage over the mossy nest.
Unless we mistake, the bird in the first picture is about to visit a nest behind the waterfall, and of such a nest Mr. John Keast Lord says: “I once found the nest of the American Dipper built amongst the roots of a large cedar-tree that had floated down the stream and got jammed against the mill-dam of the Hudson Bay Company’s old grist mill, at Fort Colville, on a tributary to the upper Columbia River. The water rushing over a jutting ledge of rocks, formed a small cascade, that fell like a veil of water before the dipper’s nest; and it was curious to see the birds dash thru the waterfall rather than go in at the sides, and in that way get behind it. For hours I have sat and watched the busy pair, passing in and out thru the fall, with as much apparent ease as an equestrian performer jumps thru a hoop covered with tissue paper. The nest was ingeniously constructed to prevent the spray from wetting the interior, the moss being so worked over the entrance as to form an admirable verandah.”
Of the nest shown in the accompanying illustration, Mr. A. W. Anthony says that it was completed under unusual difficulties. A party of surveyors, requiring to bridge a stream in eastern Oregon, first laid a squared stringer. This an Ouzel promptly seized upon, and in token of proprietorship began to heap up moss. This arrangement did not comport with business and the nest foundations were brushed aside on two successive mornings. A spell of bad weather intervening, the men returned to their work some days later to find the completed nest, as shown, completed but still unoccupied. It was necessary to remove this also, but judge of the feelings of the surveyors when, upon the following morning, they found a single white egg resting upon the bare timber!
_Hirundinidæ_—The Swallows
No. 126.
PURPLE MARTIN.
A. O. U. No. 611. Progne subis (Linn.).
Description.—_Adult male_: Rich, purplish black, glossy and metallic;
wings and tail dead black. _Adult female_: Similar to male, but
blue-black of upperparts restricted and duller; forehead, hind-neck,
and lower parts sooty gray, paler on belly and crissum. Bill black,
stout, and broad at the base, decurved near tip; nostrils exposed,
circular, opening upward; feet moderately stout. _Young males_:
resemble adult female but are somewhat darker, the steely blue
appearing at first in patches. Length 7.25-8.50 (184.2-215.9); av. of
eight specimens: wing 5.75 (146.1); tail 2.72 (69.1): bill, breadth at
base .73 (18.5); length from nostril .33 (8.4).
Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; the largest of the Swallows;
blue-black, or blue-black and sooty-gray coloration.
Nesting.—_Nest_, of leaves, grass, and trash, in some cavity, usually
artificial,—bird-boxes, gourds, etc. _Eggs_, 4-5, rarely 6, pure,
glossy white. Av. size, .98 × .73 (24.9 × 18.5). _Season_, first week
in June; one brood.
General Range.—Temperate North America, except southern portion of
Pacific Coast district, north to Ontario and the Saskatchewan, south
to the higher parts of Mexico, wintering in South America.
Range in Washington.—Not common summer resident—nearly confined to
business sections of the larger cities.
Migrations.—_Spring_: c. April 15; Tacoma, April 1, 1905. _Fall_: c.
Sept. 1st.
Authorities.—Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. XII. pt. II.
1860, p. 136. (T). C&S. [L]. Rh. Ra. Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—Prov. B. E.
This virtually rare bird appears to be strictly confined during its summer residence with us to the business districts of our larger West-side cities. Records are in from Seattle, Tacoma, Olympia, Bellingham, Vancouver, and Victoria only. Really, if this favoritism continues, we shall begin to think of imposing a new test for cities of the first class; viz., Do the Martins nest with you?
Suckley remembers a time when, in the early Fifties, a few Martins were to be seen about the scrub oaks of the Nisqually Plains, in whose hollows and recesses they undoubtedly nested; but all Washington birds have long since adopted the ways of civilization. April 1st is the earliest return I have noted, and we are not surprised if they fail to put in an appearance before the 1st of May. Their movements depend largely upon the weather, and even if they have come back earlier they are likely to mope indoors when the weather is cold and disagreeable. The birds feed exclusively upon insects, and are thus quite at the mercy of a backward spring. Not only flies and nits are consumed, but bees, wasps, dragon flies, and some of the larger predatory beetles as well.
The birds mate soon after arrival, and for a home they select some crevice or hidey-hole about a building. A cavity left by a missing brick is sufficient, or a station on the eave-plate of a warehouse. Old nests are renovated and new materials are brought in, straw, string, and trash for the bulk of the nest, and abundant feathers for lining. Sometimes the birds exhibit whimsical tastes. Mr. S. F. Rathbun of Seattle found a nest which was composed entirely of wood shavings mixed with string and fragments of the woven sheath which covers electric light wires.
The nest is not often occupied till June, when the birds may be most certain of finding food for their offspring; and the rearing of a single brood is a season’s work. Five eggs are almost invariably the number laid, and they are of a pure white color, the shell being very little glossed and of a coarser grain than is the case with eggs of the other Swallows.
Purple Martins are very sociable birds, and a voluble flow of small talk is kept up by them during the nesting season. The song, if such it may be called, is a succession of pleasant warblings and gurglings, interspersed with harsh rubbing and creaking notes. A particularly mellow _coo, coo, coo_, recurs from time to time, and any of the notes seem to require considerable effort on the part of the performer.
It will prove to be a sad day for the Martins when the English Sparrows take full possession of our cities. The Martins are not deficient in courage, but they cannot endure the presence of the detested foreigners. The Sparrows are filthy creatures, and it may be that the burden of the vermin, which they invariably introduce to their haunts, bears more heavily upon the skins of our more delicately constituted citizens than upon their own swinish hides.
No. 127.
CLIFF SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 612. Petrochelidon lunifrons (Say).
Synonyms.—Eave Swallow. Republican Swallow.
Description.—_Adult_: A prominent whitish crescent on forehead; crown,
back, and an obscure patch on breast steel-blue; throat, sides of
head, and nape deep chestnut; breast, sides, and a cervical collar
brown-gray; belly white or whitish; wings and tail blackish; rump pale
rufous,—the color reaching around on flanks; under tail-coverts dusky.
_In young birds_ the frontlet is obscure or wanting; the plumage dull
brown above, and the throat blackish with white specks. Bill and feet
weak, the former suddenly compressed at tip. Length 5.00-6.00
(127-152.4); wing 4.35 (110.5); tail 2.00 (50.8); bill from nostril
.22 (5.6).
Recognition Marks.—“Warbler size,” but comparison
inappropriate,—better say “Swallow size”; white forehead and rufous
rump. Found in colonies.
Nesting.—_Nest_, an inverted stack-shaped, or declined retort-shaped
structure of mud, scantily or well lined with grass, and depending
from the walls of cliffs, sides of barns under the eaves, and the
like. _Eggs_, 4-5, white, spotted, sometimes scantily, with cinnamon-
and rufous-brown. Av. size, .82 × .55 (20.8 × 14). _Season_, May
25-June 25.
General Range.—North America, north to the limit of trees, breeding
southward to the Valley of the Potomac and the Ohio, southern Texas,
southern Arizona, and California; Central and South America in winter.
Not found in Florida.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident, abundant but locally distributed
east of Cascades; much less common in Puget Sound region.
Migrations.—_Spring_: April 15-30. _Fall_: first week in Sept. Tacoma,
April 4, 1908.
Authorities.—_Hirundo lunifrons_, Say, Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac.
R. R. Surv. XII. 1860, 184. T. C&S. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². J. B. E.
Specimens.—Prov. P. C.
Few birds serve to recall more accurately a picture of sequestered grandeur and primeval peace than do these amiable tenants of Washington’s very limited scab lands. It is true that certain Cliff Swallows, following the example of their weaker eastern brethren, have taken to nesting under the eaves of churches and barns and outbuildings, but they are a negligible quantity in comparison with the swarms which still resort to the ancestral “breaks” of the Columbia gorge and the weird basaltic coulees of Douglas County.
The particular nesting site may be a matter of a season’s use, populous this year and abandoned the next; but somewhere along this frowning face of basaltic columns Swallows were nesting before old Chief Moses and his copper-colored clans were displaced by the white man. Soon after the retreating ice laid bare the fluted bastions of the Grand Coulee, I think, these fly-catching cohorts swept in and established a northern outpost, an outpost which was not abandoned even in those degenerate days when deer gave way to cayuses, cayuses to cattle, and cattle to sheep and fences—fences, mark you, on the Swallow’s domain!
Evidence of this age-long occupation of the lava-cliff is furnished not only by the muddy cicatrices left by fallen nests, but, wherever the wall juts out or overhangs, so as to shield a place below from the action of the elements, by beds of guano and coprolitic stalagmites, which cling to the uneven surface of the rock. Judged by the same testimony, certain of the larger blow-holes, or lava-bubbles, must be used at night as lodging places, at least out of the nesting season.
The well-known bottle- or retort-shaped nests of the Cliff Swallow are composed of pellets of mud deposited in successive beakfuls by the industrious birds. It is always interesting to see a twittering company of these little masons gathering by the water’s edge and moulding their mortar to the required consistency. Not less interesting is it to watch them lay the foundations upon some smooth rock facet. Their tiny beaks must serve for hods and trowels, and because the first course of mud masonry is the most particular, they alternately cling and flutter, as with many prods and fairy thumps they force the putty-like material to lay hold of the indifferent wall.
There is usually much passing to and fro in the case of these cliff-dwellers, and we can never hope to steal upon them unawares. When one approaches from below, an alarm is sounded and anxious heads, wearing a white frown, are first thrust out at the mouths of the bottles, and then the air becomes filled with flying Swallows, charging about the head of the intruder in bewildering mazes and raising a babble of strange frangible cries, as tho a thousand sets of toy dishes were being broken. If the newcomer appears harmless, the birds return to their eggs by ones and twos and dozens until most of the company are disposed again. At such a moment it is great sport to set up a sudden shout. There is an instant hush, electric, ominous, while every little Injun of them is making for the door of his wigwam. Then they are dislodged from the cliff like an avalanche of missiles, a silent, down-sweeping cloud; but immediately they gain assurance in the open and bedlam begins all over again.
The Cliff Swallows are, of course, beyond the reach of all four-footed enemies, but now and again a June rain-storm comes at the cliff from an unexpected quarter and plays sad havoc with their frail tenements. Besides this (in strictest confidence; one dislikes to pass an ill word of a suffering brother) the nests are likely to be infested with bed-bugs. Not all, of course, are so afflicted, but in some cases the scourge becomes so severe that the nest is abandoned outright, and eggs or young are left to their fate. In spite of this compromising weakness, the presence of these Swallows confers an incalculable benefit upon the farmer of eastern Washington, in that they alone are able to cope with a host of winged insect pests. They race tirelessly to and fro across the landscape, weaving a magic tapestry of search, until it would seem that not a cubic inch of atmosphere remains without its invisible thread of flight.
No. 128.
ROUGH-WINGED SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 617. Stelgidopteryx serripennis (Aud.).
Description.—_Adult_: Warm brownish gray or snuff-brown, including
throat and breast; thence passing insensibly below to white of under
tail-coverts; wings fuscous. _Young birds_ exhibit some rusty edging
of the feathers above, especially on the wings, and lack the peculiar,
recurved hooks on the edge of the outer primary. Size a little larger
than the next. Length 5.00-5.75 (127-146.1); wing 4.30 (109.2); tail
1.85 (47); bill from nostril .21 (5.3).
Recognition Marks.—Medium Swallow size; throat not white; warmish
brown coloration, and brownish suffusion below fading to white on
belly. It is easy to distinguish between this and the succeeding
species if a little care is taken to note the general pattern of
underparts.
Nesting.—_Nest_, in crevices of cliffs, at end of tunnels in sand
banks, or in crannies of bridges, etc.; made of leaves, grasses,
feathers, and the like,—bulky or compact according to situation.
_Eggs_, 4-8, white. Av. size, .74 × .51 (18.8 × 13). _Season_: May
20-June 5, June 20-July 10; two broods.
General Range.—United States at large, north to Connecticut, southern
Ontario, southern Minnesota, British Columbia, etc., south thru Mexico
to Costa Rica. Breeds thruout United States range and south in Mexico.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident, of general distribution, save in
mountains, thruout the State. More common east of the mountains, where
it has taken a great fancy to banks of irrigating ditches, especially
where abrupt.
Migrations.—_Spring_: First week in April; Tacoma, April 3, 1905,
April 6, 1906 and 1908. _Fall_: c. Sept. 1.
Authorities.—_Cotyle serripennis_, Bonap. Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv.
IX. pt. II. 1858, 314. C&S. L¹(?). L². Rh. Ra. J. B. E.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P. B. E.
It not infrequently happens that some oversight, or want of discrimination, on the part of early observers condemns a species to long obscurity or unending misapprehension. The Bank Swallow was at once recognized by the pioneer naturalists of America as being identical with the well-known European bird, but it was not till 1838 that Audubon distinguished its superficially similar but structurally different relative, the Rough-wing. The cloak of obscurity still clings to the latter, altho we begin to suspect that it may from the first have enjoyed its present wide distribution East as well as West. Hence, in describing it, we take the more familiar Bank Swallow as a point of departure, and say that it differs thus and so and so.
In the first place it has those curious little hooklets on the edge of the wing (especially on the outer edge of the first primary)—nobody knows what they are for. They surely cannot be of service in enabling the bird to cling to perpendicular surfaces, for they are bent forward, and the bird is not known to cling head-downward. It is easy to see how the bird might brace its wings against the sides of its nesting tunnel to prevent forcible abduction, but no one knows of a possible enemy which might be circumvented in this way.
Again, the Rough-winged Swallow has a steadier, rather more labored flight than that of its foil. Its aerial course is more dignified, leisurely, less impulsive and erratic. In nesting, altho it may include the range of the Sand Martin, or even nest side by side with it, it has a wider latitude for choice and is not hampered by local tradition. If it burrows in a bank it is quite as likely to dig near the bottom as the top. Crevices in masonry or stone quarries, crannies and abutments of bridges or even holes in trees, are utilized. In Lincoln County where cover is scarce and the food supply attractive, I found them nesting along irrigating ditches with banks not over two feet high. One guileless pair I knew excavated a nest in the gravelly bank of an ungraded lot only three feet above the sidewalk of a prominent street, Denny Way, in Seattle. These birds were unsuccessful, but another pair, which enjoyed the protection of some sturdy fir roots below ground, brought off a brood on Fifty-fifth Street, near my home.
Unlike the Bank Swallows, the Rough-wings do not colonize to any great extent, but are rather solitary. Favorable conditions may attract several pairs to a given spot, as a gravel pit, but when together they are little given to community functions.
These Swallows are pretty evenly distributed thruout the length and breadth of the State, save that they do not venture into high altitudes. Since they are so catholic in taste, it would seem that they are destined to flourish. They are possibly now to be considered, after the Cliff Swallow, the most numerous species. I found them regularly along the west Olympic Coast in the summer of 1906; and, with Mr. Edson, of Bellingham, in June, 1905, found a single pair nesting in characteristic isolation on Bare Island, off Waldron.
Further than this, the bird under consideration resembles the other bird quite closely in notes, in habits, and in general appearance, and requires sharp distinction in accordance with the suggestions given above under “Recognition Marks.”
No. 129.
BANK SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 616. Riparia riparia (Linn).
Synonym.—Sand Martin.
Description.—_Adult_: Upperparts plain, brownish gray; wings fuscous;
throat and belly white; a brownish gray band across the breast; a tiny
tuft of feathers above the hind toe. There is some variation in the
extent of the pectoral band; it is sometimes produced indistinctly
backward, and sometimes even interrupted. Length 5.00-5.25
(127-133.3); wing 3.95 (100.3); tail 1.97 (50); bill from nostril .20
(5.1).
Recognition Marks.—Smallest of the Swallows; throat white; brownish
gray pectoral band on white ground.
Nesting.—_Nest_, at end of tunnels in banks, two or three feet in; a
frail mat of straws and grasses and occasionally feathers. Breeds
usually in colonies. _Eggs_, 4-6, sometimes 7, pure white. Av. size,
.70 × .49 (17.8 × 12.5). _Season_: June; one brood.
General Range.—Northern Hemisphere; in America south to West Indies,
Central America, and northern South America; breeding from the middle
districts of the United States northward to about the limit of trees.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident; not common. A few large colonies
are known east of the Cascades; westerly they are rare or wanting.
Migrations.—_Spring_: May 11, 1896, Chelan.
Authorities.—_Clivicola riparia_, Dawson, Auk, Vol. XIV. April, 1897,
p. 179. T. [L¹.] D¹. Kb. D². Kk. B. E. (H).
Specimens.—Prov. C.
Those who know, conceive a regard for this plain-colored bird which is quite out of keeping with its humble garb and its confessedly prosy ways. The fact is, we have no other bird so nearly cosmopolitan, and we of the West, who are being eternally reminded of our newness, and who are, indeed, upon the alert for some new shade of color upon the feather of a bird for each added degree of longitude, take comfort in the fact that here at least is an unchangeable type, a visible link between Stumptown-on-Swinomish and Florence on the Arno. Birds of precisely this feather are summering on the Lena, or else hawking at flies on the sunny Gaudalquivir, or tunneling the sacred banks of the Jordan; and the flattery is not lost upon us of such as still prefer the Nespilem and the Pilchuck.
The life of a Swallow is so largely spent a-wing, that our interest in it centers even more than in the case of other birds upon the time when it is bound to earth by family ties. We are scarcely conscious of the presence of the Bank Swallow until one day we see a great company of them fluttering about a sand-bank which overlooks the river, all busily engaged in digging the tunnels which are to shelter their young for that season. These birds are regularly gregarious, and a nesting colony frequently numbers hundreds.
The birds usually select a spot well up within a foot or two of the top of a nearly perpendicular bank of soil or sand, and dig a straight, round tunnel three or four feet long. If, however, the soil contains stones, a greater length and many turns may be required to reach a safe spot for the slight enlargement where the nest proper is placed. The bird appears to loosen the earth with its closed beak, swaying from side to side the while; and, of course, fallen dirt or sand is carried out in the mouth. Sometimes the little miner finds a lens-shaped tunnel more convenient, and I have seen them as much as seven inches in width and only two in height. While the members of a colony, especially if it be a small one, usually occupy a straggling, horizontal line of holes, their burrows are not infrequently to be seen in loose tiers, so that the bank presents a honey-combed appearance.
Communal life seems a pleasant thing to these Swallows, and there is usually a considerable stir of activity about the quarters. A good deal of social twittering also attends the unending gyrations. The wonder is that the rapidly moving parts of this aerial kaleidoscope never collide, and that the cases of turning up at the wrong number are either so few or so amicably adjusted. The nesting season is, however, beset with dangers. Weasels and their ilk sometimes find entrance to the nesting burrows, and they are an easy prey to underbred small boys as well. The undermining of the nesting cliff by the swirling river sometimes precipitates an entire colony—at least its real and personal property—to destruction.
A certain populous bank near Chelan faced west, and whenever the west wind blew, the fine volcanic ash, which composed the cliff, was whirled into the mouths of the burrows, so rapidly, indeed, that the inmates required to be frequently at work in order to maintain an exit. A few dessicated carcasses, which I came across in old, filled-up burrows, I attributed to misfortune in this regard.
Bank Swallows are the least musical of the Swallow kind,—unless, perhaps, we except the Rough-winged species, which is naturally associated in mind with this. They have, nevertheless, a characteristic twitter, an unmelodious sound like the rubbing together of two pebbles. An odd effect is produced when the excited birds are describing remonstrant parabolas at an intruder’s head. The heightened pitch in the tones of the rapidly approaching bird, followed instantly by the lower tone of full retreat, is enough to startle a slumbering conscience in one who meditates mischief on a Swallow’s home.
No. 130.
AMERICAN BARN SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 613. Hirundo erythrogastra Bodd.
Synonyms.—American Barn Swallow. Fork-tailed Swallow.
Description.—_Adult_: Above lustrous steel-blue; in front an imperfect
collar of the same hue; forehead chestnut; lores black; throat and
breast rufous; the remaining underparts, including lining of wings,
more or less tinged with the same, according to age and season; wings
and tail blackish, with purplish or greenish reflections; tail deeply
forked, the outer pair of feathers being from one to two inches
longer, and the rest graduated; white blotches on inner webs (except
on middle pair) follow the bifurcation. _Immature_: Forehead and
throat paler; duller or brownish above; lateral tail-feathers not so
long. Length about 7.00 (177.8); wing 4.75 (120.6); tail 3.00-4.50
(76.2-114.3); bill from nostril .24 (6.1).
Recognition Marks.—Aerial habit; rufous of throat and underparts;
_forked tail_; nest usually _inside_ the barn.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a neat bracket or half-bowl of mud, luxuriously lined
with grass and feathers, and cemented to a beam of barn or bridge. In
Washington still nests occasionally in original haunts, viz., cliffs,
caves, and crannied sea-walls. _Eggs_: 3-6, of variable shape,—oval or
elongated; white or pinkish white and spotted with cinnamon or umber.
Av. size .76 × .55 (19.3 × 14). _Season_: last week in May and first
week in July; two broods. Stehekin, Aug. 10, 1896, 4 eggs.
General Range.—North America at large. Perhaps the most widely and
generally distributed of any American bird. Winters in Central and
South America.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident of regular occurrence at lower
levels thruout the State, less common west of the Cascades, more
common elsewhere in the older settled valleys.
Migrations.—_Spring_: c. May 1st; Yakima County, April 27, 1907; May
3, 1908. _Fall_: c. September 10th; Seattle, September 20, 1907.
Authorities.—_Hirundo horeorum_ Benton, Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac.
R. R. Surv. XII., pt. II., 1860, p. 184. T. C&S. L. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra.
D². Ss¹. Ss². J. B. E.
Specimens.—Prov. P¹. C. E.
One hardly knows what quality to admire most in this boyhood’s and life-long friend, the Barn Swallow. All the dear associations of life at the old farm come thronging up at sight of him. You think of him somehow as a part of the sacred past; yet here he is today as young and as fresh as ever, bubbling over with springtime laughter, ready for a frolic over the bee-haunted meadows, or willing to settle down on the nearest fence-wire and recount to you with sparkling eyes and eloquent gesture the adventures of that glorious trip up from Mexico.
Perhaps it is his childlike enthusiasm which stirs us. He has come many a league this morning, yet he dashes in thru the open doors and shouts like a boisterous schoolboy, “Here we are, you dear old barn; ar’n’t we glad to get back again!” Then it’s out to see the horse-pond; and down the lane where the cattle go, with a dip under the bridge and a few turns over the orchard—a new purpose, or none, every second—life one full measure of abounding joy!
Or is it the apotheosis of motion which takes the eye? See them as they cast a magic spell over the glowing green of the young alfalfa, winding about in the dizzy patterns of a heavenly ballet, or vaulting at a thought to snatch an insect from the sky. Back again, in again, out again, away, anywhere, everywhere, with two-mile a minute speed and effortless grace.
But it is the sweet confidingness of this dainty Swallow which wins us. With all the face of Nature before him he yet prefers the vicinage of men, and comes out of his hilly fastnesses as soon as we provide him shelter. We all like to be trusted whether we deserve it or not. And if we don’t deserve it; well, we will, that’s all.
The Barn Swallow is not a common bird with us as it is east of the Rockies, nor is it evenly distributed thruout our State. Wherever the country is well settled it is likely, but not certain, to be found; while for the rest it is confined to such lower altitudes as afford it suitable shelter caves and nesting cliffs.
At the head of Lake Chelan in 1895 I found such a primitive nesting haunt. The shores of the lake near its head are very precipitous, since Castle Mountain rises to a height of over 8,000 feet within a distance of two miles. Along the shore-line in the side of the cliffs, which continue several hundred feet below the water, the waves have hollowed out crannies and caves. In one of these latter, which penetrates the granite wall to a depth of some twenty feet, I found four or five Barn Swallows’ nests, some containing young, and two, altho it was so late in the season (July 9, 1895), containing eggs. Other nests were found in neighboring crannies outside the cave. A visit paid to this same spot on August 10th, 1896, discovered one nest still occupied, and this contained four eggs.
Mr. F. S. Merrill, of Spokane, reports the Barn Swallow as nesting along the rocky walls of Hangman’s Creek, in just such situations as Cliff Swallows would choose; and back in ’89, I found a few associated with Violet-greens along the Natchez Cliffs, in Yakima County.
A colony of some twenty pairs may be found yearly nesting on Destruction Island, in the Pacific Ocean. A few of them still occupy wave-worn crannies in the sand-rock, overlooking the upper reaches of the tide, but most of the colony have taken refuge under the broad gables of the keepers’ houses.
The nest of the Barn Swallow is quadrispherical, or bracket-shaped, with an open top; and it usually depends for its position upon the adhesiveness of the mud used in construction. Dr. Brewer says of them: “The nests are constructed of distinct layers of mud, from ten to twelve in number, and each separated by strata of fine dry grasses. These layers are each made up of small pellets of mud, that have been worked over by the birds and placed one by one in juxtaposition until each layer is complete.” The mud walls thus composed are usually an inch in thickness, and the cavity left is first lined with fine soft grasses, then provided with abundant feathers, among which the speckled eggs lie buried and almost invisible.
Bringing off the brood is an event which may well arrest the attention of the human household. There is much stir of excitement about the barn. The anxious parents rush to and fro shouting _tisic, tisic_, now in encouragement, now in caution, while baby number one launches for the nearest beam. The pace is set, and babies number two to four follow hotly after, now lighting safely, now landing in the hay-mow, or compromising on a plow-handle. Upon the last-named the agonized parents urge another effort, for Tabby may appear at any moment. He tries, therefore, for old Nellie’s back, to the mild astonishment of that placid mare, who presently shakes him off. Number five tumbles outright and requires to be replaced by hand, if you will be so kind. And so the tragi-comedy wears on, duplicating human years in half as many days, until at last we see our Swallows among their twittering fellows strung like notes of music on the far-flung staff of Western Union.
If birds really mean anything more to us than so many Japanese kites flown without strings, we may surely join with Dr. Brewer in his whole-souled appreciation of these friendly Swallows: “Innocent and blameless in their lives, there is no evil blended with the many benefits they confer on man. They are his ever constant benefactor and friend, and are never known even indirectly to do an injury. For their daily food and for that of their offspring, they destroy the insects that annoy his cattle, injure his fruit trees, sting his fruit, or molest his person. Social, affectionate and kind in their intercourse with each other; faithful and devoted in the discharge of their conjugal and parental duties; exemplary, watchful, and tender alike to their own family and to all their race; sympathizing and benevolent when their fellows are in any trouble,—these lovely and beautiful birds are bright examples to all, in their blameless and useful lives.”
No. 131.
TREE SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 614. Iridoprocne bicolor (Vieill.).
Synonym.—White-bellied Swallow.
Description.—_Adult male_: Above, lustrous steel-blue or steel-green;
below, pure white; lores black; wings and tail black, showing some
bluish or greenish luster; tail slightly forked. _Female_: Similar to
male, but duller. _Immature_: Upper parts mouse-gray instead of
metallic; below whitish. Length about 6.00 (152.4); wing 4.57; (116.1)
tail 2.19 (55.6); bill from nostril .25 (6.4).
Recognition Marks.—Aërial habits; steel-blue or greenish above; pure
white below; a little larger than the next species.
Nesting.—_Nest_: in holes in trees or, latterly, in bird houses,
plentifully lined with soft materials, especially feathers. _Eggs_:
4-6, pure white,—pinkish white before removal of contents. Av. size
.75 × .54 (19.1 × 13.7). _Season_: last week in May, first week in
July; two broods.
General Range.—North America at large, breeding from the Fur Countries
south to New Jersey, the Ohio Valley, Kansas, Colorado, California,
etc.; wintering from South Carolina and the Gulf States southward to
the West Indies and Guatemala.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident; abundant on West-side; not
common east of the Cascade Mountains.
Migrations.—_Spring_: First week in March or earlier; Seattle, March
4, 1889; March 7, 1890; Tacoma, March 2, 1907; March 3, 1908;
Bellingham (Edson), Tacoma (Bowles), Steilacoom (Dawson), February 25,
1905; Skagit Marshes near Fir (L. R. Reynolds), February 1, 1906;
Seattle (Dr. Clinton T. Cooke), January 21, 1906.
Authorities.—_Hirundo bicolor_ Vieillot, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv.
IX., pt. II., 1858, p. 311. T. C&S. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². J. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. C.
One Swallow does not make a summer, but a little twittering company of them faring northward makes the heart glad, and fills it with a sense of exaltation as it responds to the call of these care-free children of the air. The remark applies to Swallows in general, but particularly to Tree Swallows, for in their immaculate garb of dark blue and white, they seem like crystallizations of sky and templed cloud, grown animate with the all-compelling breath of spring. They have about them the marks of high-born quality, which we cannot but admire as they spurn with a wing-stroke the lower strata, and rise to accept we know not what dainties of the upper air.
While not so hardy as Robin and Bluebird, since it must maintain an exclusive diet of insects, Tree Swallow is, occasionally, very venturesome as to the season of its northward flight. Indeed a succession of mild winters might induce it to become a permanent resident of the Puget Sound country, and it is not certain that it has not already done so in some instances. It often reaches Seattle during the first week in March; while it was simultaneously observed at Tacoma (Bowles), and Bellingham (Edson) on the 24th day of February, 1905. In 1906 Mr. L. R. Reynolds reported seeing it in numbers on the Skagit marshes near Fir, on the 1st of February; and Dr. Clinton T. Cooke, looking from his office window in the Alaska Building, saw a large specimen, apparently an adult male, soaring about over the Grand Opera House, in Seattle, on the 21st day of January.
The Tree Swallow is a lover of the water and is seldom to be found at a great distance from it. It is close to the surface of ponds and lakes that the earliest insects are to be found in spring, and it is here that the bird may maintain the spotlessness of its plumage by frequent dips. Hence a favorite nesting site for these birds is one of the partially submerged forests which are so characteristic of western Washington lakes. The birds are not themselves able to make excavations in the wood, but they have no difficulty in possessing themselves of the results of other birds’ labors. Old holes will do if not too old, but I once knew a pair of these Swallows to drive away a pair of Northwest Flickers from a brand new nesting-hole, on the banks of Lake Union, and to occupy it themselves.
The nesting cavity is copiously lined with dead grass and feathers; and sometime during the last week of May from four to six white eggs are deposited. The female sits very closely and it is sometimes necessary to remove her by hand in order to examine the nest. Both parents are very solicitous on such occasions, and should a feather from the nest be tossed into the air, one of them will at once catch it and fly about awaiting a chance to replace it. Or if there are other Swallows about, some neighbor will snatch it first and make off with it to add to her own collection.
Tree Swallows are slowly availing themselves of artificial nesting sites. In fact, several species of our birds have become quite civilized, so that nowadays no carefully constructed and quietly situated bird-box need be without its spring tenant. A pair once built their nest in a sort of tower attic, just inside a hole which a Flicker had pierced in the ceiling of an open belfry of a country church in Yakima. When in service the mouth of the swinging bell came within two feet of the brooding bird. One would suppose that the Swallows would have been crazed with fright to find themselves in the midst of such a tumult of sound; but their enterprise fared successfully, as I can testify, for at the proper time I saw the youngsters ranged in a happy, twittering row along the upper rim of the bell-wheel.
No. 132.
VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOW.
A. O. U. No. 615. Tachycineta thalassina lepida (Mearns).
Synonym.—Northern Violet-green Swallow.
Description.—_Adult male_: Upperparts, including pileum, hind-neck,
back, upper portion of rump, scapulars, and lesser wing-coverts, rich
velvety bronze-green, occasionally tinged with purple, crown usually
more or less contrasting with color of back, greenish-brown rather
than bronze-green, and more strongly tinged with purple; a narrow
cervical collar, lower rump, and upper tail-coverts, velvety
violet-purple; wings (except lesser coverts) and tail blackish glossed
with violet or purple; lores grayish; underparts, continuous with
cheeks and area over and behind eye, and with conspicuous flank patch,
nearly meeting fellow across rump, pure white; under wing-coverts pale
gray, whitening on edge of wing. Bill black; feet brownish black; iris
brown. _Adult female_: Like male but usually much duller, bronze-green
of upperparts reduced to greenish brown, or brown with faint greenish
reflections. _Young birds_ are plain mouse-gray above and their inner
secondaries are touched with white. Length 4.50-5.50 (114.3-139.7);
wing 4.41 (112); tail 1.77 (45); bill .20 (5.2).
Recognition Marks.—Smaller; green and violet above, white below;
white-cheeked and white-rumped (apparently) as distinguished from the
Tree Swallow.
Nesting.—_Nest_: of dried grasses with or without feathers, placed in
crevice of cliff or at end of vapor hole in basalt walls; latterly in
bird boxes and about buildings. _Eggs_: 4-6, pure white. Av. size .72
× .48 (18.3 × 12.2). _Season_: June.
General Range.—Western United States, from the eastern base of the
Rocky Mountains to the Pacific, north to the Yukon Valley, south in
winter to Costa Rica.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident, of regular occurrence in
mountain valleys and among the foothills; rare or local elsewhere;
becoming common in the larger cities.
Migrations.—_Spring_: “About the 10th of May” (Suckley)[49]; now at
least March; Chelan, March 27, 1896; Seattle, March 24, 1906; Tacoma,
March 16, 1907; March 14, 1908; Olympia, February 27(?), 1897.
Authorities.—?Ornith. Com. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila., VII., 1837, 193
(Columbia River). _Hirundo thalassina_ Swainson, Baird, Rep. Pac. R.
R. Surv. IX., pt. II., 1858, p. 312. T. C&S. L¹. Rh. D¹. D². Ss¹. Kk.
J. B. E.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P¹. C. E.
To appear to the best advantage this dainty sky-child should be seen on a bright day, when the livid green of back and crown may reflect the glancing rays of the sun with a delicate golden sheen. At such a time, if one is clambering about the walls of some rugged granite cliff of the lower Cascades, he feels as if the dwellers of Olympus had come down in appropriate guise to inquire his business. Not, however, that these lovely creatures are either meddlesome or shrewish. Even when the nest is threatened by the strange presence, the birds seem unable to form any conception of harm, and pursue their way in sunny disregard. Especially pleasing to the eye is the pure white of the bird’s underparts, rising high on flanks and cheeks and sharply contrasting with the pattern of violet and green, in such fashion that, if Nature had invited us to “remold it nearer to the heart’s desire,” we must have declined the task.
Before the advent of the white man upon Puget Sound, these birds commonly nested in deserted woodpecker holes and in natural cavities of trees, while upon the East-side they nested (and still do to a large extent) upon the granite or lava cliffs. In the last-named situations they utilize the rocky clefts and inaccessible crannies, and are especially fond of the smaller vapor holes which characterize the basaltic formations. Favorable circumstances may attract a considerable colony, to the number of a hundred pairs or more, but even so it is not easy to find a getatable nest. If one is able to reach the actual nesting site, the mouth of the ancient gas-vent which the birds have chosen for a home may prove too small to admit the hand.
Thruout the State, however, and especially upon the West-side, these exquisite birds are forsaking their ancient haunts and claiming protection of men. Already they have become common in larger cities, where they occupy bird-boxes and crannies of buildings. South Tacoma, being nearest to their old oak nurseries, is quite given over to them, and it is a pretty sight on a sunny day in April to see them fluttering about the cottages inspecting knot-holes and recessed gables or, in default of such conveniences, daintily voicing their disapproval of such neglect on the part of careless humans.
In these birds and in the Barn Swallows, the well known twittering and creaking notes of Swallows most nearly approach the dignity of song. Indeed, Mr. Rathbun contends that the song heard at close quarters is a really creditable affair, varied, vivacious, and musical.
The Violet-greens are somewhat less hardy or venturesome than the Tree Swallows, arriving usually during the last week in March. Last year’s nesting site becomes at once the spring rendezvous, but the duties of maternity are not seriously undertaken until about the 1st of June. At the head of Lake Chelan some twenty pairs of these Swallows, having left the old nesting cliff a mile away, had engaged quarters at Field’s Hotel, being assigned to the boxed eaves of a second-story piazza in this pleasant caravanserai; but they had not yet deposited eggs on the 20th of June, 1906.
Altho not formerly so fastidious—I have found cliff nests composed entirely of dried grass—these birds have become connoisseurs in upholstery of feathers, and their unglossed white eggs, five or six in number, are invariably smothered in purloined down, until we begin to suspect that our fowls rather than our features have favored our adoption.
_Ampelidæ_—The Waxwings
No. 133.
BOHEMIAN WAXWING.
A. O. U. No. 618. Bombycilla garrula (Linn.).
Synonyms.—Northern Waxwing. Greater Waxwing.
Description.—_Adults_: A conspicuous crest; body plumage soft,
grayish-brown or fawn-color, shading by insensible degrees between the
several parts; back darker, passing into bright cinnamon-rufous on
forehead and crown, and thru dark ash of rump and upper tail-coverts
into black of tail; tips of tail feathers abruptly yellow (gamboge);
breast with a vinaceous cast, passing into cinnamon-rufous of cheeks;
a narrow frontal line passing thru eye, and a short throat-patch
velvety black; under tail-coverts deep cinnamon; wing blackish-ash,
the tips of the primary coverts and the tips of the secondaries on
outer webs white, tips of primaries on outer webs bright yellow,
whitening outwardly; the shafts of the rectrices produced into
peculiar flattened red “sealing-wax” tips; bill and feet black. Length
about 8.00 (203.2); wing 4.61 (117.1); tail 2.56 (65); bill .47
(11.9).
Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; grayish-brown coloration. As
distinguished from the much more common Cedar-bird; belly _not_
yellow; white wing-bars; under tail-coverts cinnamon.
Nesting.—Not known to breed in Washington. Like that of next species.
_Eggs_, larger. Av. size, .98 × .69 (24.9 × 17.5).
General Range.—Northern portions of northern hemisphere. In North
America, south in winter irregularly to Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois,
Kansas, southern Colorado, and northern California. Breeds north of
United States; also, possibly, in the mountains of the West.
Range in Washington.—Winter resident, regular and sometimes abundant
east of the Cascades, especially in the northern tier of counties;
rare or casual on the West-side.
Authorities.—_Ampelis garrulus_, Brewster, B. N. O. C. VII. Oct. 1882,
p. 227. D¹. J. E.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P¹. C.
Nothing can exceed the refined elegance of these “gentlemen in feathers” who visit us yearly in winter, rarely on Puget Sound, but abundantly in the northeastern portion of the State. Demure, gentle, courteous to a fault, and guileless to the danger point, and beyond, these lovely creatures exceed in beauty, if possible, their more familiar cousin, the Cedarbird. They move about in flocks, sometimes to the number of hundreds, and as the rigors of winter come on they search the orchard and berry-patch for ungarnered fruit, or divide with hungry Robins the largess of rowan trees. Much time is spent in amiable converse, but it is not at all fair to call them “chatterers,” or _garrulus_, as tho they were monkeys. Dignity is of the very essence of their being, and, as fond as they are of good living, they would starve rather than do anything rude or unseemly.
An observer in Utah[50] relates how an ill-mannered Robin, jealous of the good behavior of a company of these visitors, in an apple tree, set about to abuse them. “He would bluster and scream out his denunciations till he seemed unable longer to restrain himself, when, to all appearances, absolutely beside himself with rage because the objects of his wrath paid no attention to his railings, he did the catapult act—hurling himself straight at the intruders. Several of the Waxwings, in order to avoid an actual collision, left the places where they were feeding, and alighting on twigs near by paused for a moment, as if to observe the antics of the furious Robin, when they would resume their feeding. Their indifference to the loud bullying protests of the Robin, and their persistence in remaining on the premises after he had ordered them off so exasperated Mr. Redbreast that with screams of defiance he dashed from group to group without stopping to alight, until, exhausted quite as much by the heat of anger as by the unusual exertions he was making, he was glad to drop to a branch and pant for breath”—while the Waxwings continued to ignore the churl, as gentlemen should.
Concerning the nesting range of this bird there has been much surmise. For many years the single eggs taken by Kennicott at Fort Yukon on July 4, 1861, remained unique; but latterly we are learning that it also nests much further south. Mr. Brooks took four sets, one from a Murray pine and three from Douglas firs, at 158-Mile House, B. C., in June, 1901[51]. Dr. C. S. Moody[52] reports the taking of a set of five eggs at Sandpoint, Idaho, July 5, 1904. On June 26, 1904, Robert G. Bee, of Provo City, found a nest near Sunnyside, Utah[53]. With such examples before us it is practically certain that the species will be found nesting in this State. Indeed, Mr. F. S. Merrill, of Spokane, believes that he once found a nest of the Bohemian Waxwing on the headwaters of the Little Spokane River near Milan. The nest he describes as having been placed in an alder at a height of eight feet, and it contained four eggs on the point of hatching. The brooding bird allowed a close approach while upon the nest, but was not seen again after being once flushed.
No. 134.
CEDAR WAXWING.
A. O. U. No. 619. Bombycilla cedrorum Vieill.
Synonyms.—Cedar-bird. Cherry-bird. Carolina Waxwing. Lesser Waxwing.
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The Birds of Washington (Volume 1 of 2)Chapter XV: Part 15
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