Chapter XX: Part 20

Authorities.—[Lewis and Clark, Hist. Ex. (1814) Ed. Biddle: Coues,
Vol. II., p. 185]? _C. cafer_, Allen, B. N. O. C. VI. (1881), p. 128.
(T). L¹.(?) D¹. Sr. D². Ss¹. Ss². J. B.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) P¹. Prov. B. BN.

Nature has not dealt justly with the East-side Flicker in the matter of providing an abundance of dead timber for nesting sites. What more natural, then, than that the stinted bird should joyfully fall upon the first “frame” houses and riddle them with holes? The front door of a certain country parsonage near North Yakima testifies to at least one pastoral vacation, by the presence of three large Flicker holes in its panels. The church hard by is dotted with tin patches which conceal this bird’s handiwork; and the mind recalls with glee how the irreverent Flicker on a summer Sunday replied to the parson’s fifthly, by a mighty _rat-at-at-at-at_ on the weather siding. The district schoolhouse of a neighboring township is worst served of all, for forty-one Flicker holes punctuate its weather-beaten sides—reason enough, surely, for teaching the young idea of that district how to shoot. Indeed, the school directors became so incensed at the conduct of these naughty fowls that they offered a bounty of ten cents a head for their destruction. But it is to laugh to see the fierce energy with which these birds of the plains, long deprived of legitimate exercise, fall to and perforate such neglected outposts of learning. The bird becomes obsessed by the idea of filling a particular wall full of holes, and no ingenuity of man can deter him. If work during union hours is discouraged, the bird returns stealthily to his task at four a. m., and chisels out a masterpiece before breakfast. If the gun speaks, and one bird falls a martyr to the sacred cause, another comes forward promptly to take his place, and there is always some patriotic Flicker to uphold the rights of academic research.

Of course the situation is much relieved in the timbered foothills and along the wooded banks of streams, where rotten stubs abound. The Flicker is at home, also, to the very limit of trees in the Cascade Mountains. Nests are ordinarily excavated late in April, and any tree or stump may serve as host. In Okanogan County I saw a Flicker’s nest in a stump only two feet high, and its eggs rested virtually upon the ground. Others occur in live willows, cottonwoods, and apple trees, as well as in dead pines—the last named occasionally at a height of sixty or seventy feet. They nest also in the walls of buildings, in which case they lug in the chips to lay on beam or sill, and so prevent the eggs from rolling. In Chelan County a nest was found in a bank of fine earth among those of a colony of Bank Swallows. True to tradition the birds had gone downward after entering this bank. Excavation proved to be such a pleasant task that they had dug a hole not only eighteen inches deep but two feet long and one wide, measured horizontally. Three cubic feet of earth these industrious birds had removed, not after the familiar pick and kick fashion of most bank delving species, but by the beakful, as Woodpeckers should.

From six to ten highly polished, semi-transparent, white eggs are laid upon the rotten wood or chips, which usually line a nest; and incubation begins customarily when the last egg is laid. Bendire notes an instance, in the Blue Mountains of Oregon, of a Flicker’s nest which contained at one time three young birds just hatched, two pipped eggs, and five perfectly fresh eggs, of which one was a runt.

The female is a close sitter and instances are on record where pebbles dropped in upon her have failed to dislodge her, or where once being lifted off she brushed passed the disturber to re-enter the nest. Altho provided with a bill which might prove a formidable weapon, the Flicker is of too gentle a nature to wield it in combat, and seldom offers any resistance whatever to the intruder.

After fourteen days young birds are hatched, blind, ugly, helpless. In a few days more, however, they are able to cling to the sides of the nesting hollow, and are ready to set up a clamor upon the appearance of food. This noise has been compared to the hissing of a nest of snakes, but as the fledglings grow it becomes an uproar equal to the best efforts of a telephone pole on a frosty morning.

The young are fed entirely by regurgitation, not an attractive process, but one admirably suited to the necessities of long foraging expeditions and varying fare. When able to leave the nest the fledglings usually clamber about the parental roof-tree for a day or two before taking flight. Their first efforts at obtaining food for themselves are usually made upon the ground, where ants are abundant. These with grasshoppers and other ground-haunting insects make up a large percentage of food, both of the young and adults. It will appear from this that the Red-shafted Flicker is not only harmless but decidedly beneficial—save in the matter of hostility to school boards, above mentioned.

No. 179.
NORTHWESTERN FLICKER.

A. O. U. No. 413 a. Colaptes mexicanus saturatior Ridgway.

Description.—Like _C. m. collaris_ but darker; ground color of
upperparts burnt umber with a purplish tinge; ground color of
underparts vinaceous buff to color of back; sides of head and throat
deep smoke-gray; pileum cinnamomeous. Specimens in the Provincial
Museum at Victoria indicate hybridization between this form and _C.
auratus luteus_. Of twenty-seven males from Vancouver Island nine
possess in whole or in part the scarlet nuchal patch characteristic of
_auratus_. Length up to 14.00 (355.6); av. of five Glacier specimens:
wing 6.55 (166.4): tail 5.13 (130.3); bill 1.55 (39.4).

Recognition Marks.—As in preceding; darker.

Nesting.—_Nest_: much as in preceding, but usually higher up. _Eggs_:
usually 6, somewhat less glossy than those of _C. m. collaris_.

General Range.—Northwest coast from northern California to Sitka,
hybridizing with _C. a. luteus_ northerly.

Range in Washington.—Common resident west of Cascades, breeding from
tide-water to timber-line, migrating irregularly to East-side in
winter; probably some substitution of northern birds for local summer
residents on Puget Sound in winter.

Authorities.—? _Picus mexicanus_, Audubon, Orn. Biog. V., 1839, 174,
pl. 416. _Colaptes mexicanus_ Swains, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv.
IX., 1858, pp. 120, 121. C&S. Rh. Kb. Ra. Kk. B. E.

Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.

Thoughtless people often call the Flickers of Washington “Yellow-hammers,” quite regardless of the fact that the western Flicker is no longer yellow, but orange-red. Such an oversight is unpardonable, but it would require a nice eye to distinguish out of hand this really deeply-tinted bird from its lighter brother, the Red-shafted, across the Cascades. The Cascade Mountains mark the ground of intergradation between _mexicanus_ and _saturatior_, and it would seem probable that specimens taken in winter in eastern Washington and dubbed _saturatior_, are really birds which summer on the eastern slopes of the Cascades, and which approach the saturated type of plumage, rather than migrants from _across_ the mountains, as has been assumed. These are mere subtleties. It is more important to note that birds of the _mexicanus_ type do not appear to differ in song or in psychology from the familiar _Colaptes auratus_ of the East. I therefore transcribe three paragraphs from “The Birds of Ohio” without apology, only substituting _flame_ (i. e., orange-red) for “cloth of gold.”

It is perhaps as a musician that the Flicker is best known. The word musician is used in an accommodated sense, for the bird is no professional singer, or instrumental maestro; but so long as the great orchestra of Nature is rendering the oratorio of life, there will be place for the drummer, the screamer, and the utterer of strange sounds, as well as for the human obligato. The Flicker is first, like all other Woodpeckers, a drummer. The long rolling tattoo of early springtime is elicited from some dry limb or board where the greatest resonance may be secured, and it is intended both as a musical performance and as a call of inquiry. Once, as a student, the writer roomed in a large building, whose unused chimneys were covered with sheet-iron. A Flicker had learned the acoustic value of these elevated drums, and the sound of this bird’s reveille at 4:00 a. m. was a regular feature of life at “Council Hall.”

The most characteristic of the bird’s vocal efforts is a piercing call delivered from an elevated situation, _clape_ or _kly-ak_, and _cheer_ or _kee-yer_. The scythe-whetting song is used for greeting, coaxing or argumentation, and runs from a low _wee-co, wee-co_—thru _wake-up, wake-up, wake-up_—to an emphatic _wy-kle, wy-kle, wy-kle_, or, in another mood sounds like _flicker, flicker, flicker_.

In the early days of April courtship is in progress, and the love-making of the Flicker is both the most curious and the most conspicuous of anything in that order. An infatuated Flicker is a very soft and foolish-looking bird, but it must be admitted that he thoroly understands the feminine heart and succeeds in love beyond the luck of most. A bevy of suitors will lay siege to the affections of a fair lady, say in the top of a sycamore tree. Altho the rivalry is fierce, one gallant at a time will be allowed to display his charms. This he does by advancing toward the female along a horizontal limb, bowing, scraping, pirouetting, and swaying his head from side to side with a rythmical motion. Now and then the swain pretends to lose his balance, being quite blinded, you see, by the luster of milady’s eyes, but in reality he does it that he may have an excuse to throw up his wings and display the dazzling flame which lines them. The lady is disposed to be critical at first, and backs away in apparent indifference or flies off to another limb in the same tree. This is only a fair test of gallantry and provokes pursuit, as was expected. Hour after hour, and it may be day after day, the suit is pressed by one and another until the maiden indicates her preference, and begins to respond in kind by nodding and bowing and swaying before the object of her choice, and to pour out an answering flood of softly whispered adulation. The best of it is, however, that these affectionate demonstrations are kept up during the nesting season, so that even when one bird relieves its mate upon the eggs it must needs pause for a while outside the nest to bow and sway and swap compliments.

The Northwestern Flicker is largely, but not exclusively, resident in winter. Being restricted at that season as to its insect diet, its presence appears to depend more or less upon the abundance of fruits and nuts. It eats not only grubs and worms but seeds, acorns and berries of various kinds. The fruit of the madrone appears to be a special favorite with this bird, as it is with the Robin, and I fancied that Flickers were unusually abundant on that account in the winter of 1907-08.

_Cuculidæ_—The Cuckoos

No. 180.
CALIFORNIA CUCKOO.

A. O. U. No. 387 a. Coccyzus americanus occidentalis Ridgway.

Synonyms.—Western Yellow-billed Cuckoo. Rain-crow.

Description.—_Adult_: Above nearly uniform, satiny, brownish gray,
with something of a bronzy-green sheen; the inner webs of the
primaries cinnamon-rufous, the outer webs and sometimes the wing
coverts tinged with the same; central pair of tail-feathers like the
back and completely covering the others during repose; remaining pairs
sharply graduated,—blackish with broad terminal white spaces, the
outer pair white-edged; a bare space around the eye yellow; underparts
uniform silky white or sordid; bill curved, upper mandible black,
except touched with yellow on sides; lower mandible yellow, with black
tip. _Immature_: Similar to adult, but plumage of back with slight
admixture of cinnamon-rufous or vinaceous; tail-feathers narrower,—the
contrast between their black and white areas less abrupt. Length
12.50-13.50 (317.5-342.9); wing 6.00 (152.4); tail 6.50 (165.1); bill
1.06 (26.9); depth of bill at base .38 (9.7).

Recognition Marks.—Robin to Kingfisher size; slim form and lithe
appearance; brown above, white below; sharply-graduated, broadly
white-tipped tail-feathers.

Nesting.—_Nest_: a careless structure of twigs, bark-strips, and
catkins, placed in trees or bushes, usually at moderate heights.
_Eggs_: 3 or 4, pale greenish blue, becoming lighter on continued
exposure. Av. size, 1.31 × .94 (33.3 × 23.9). _Season_: June-August;
one brood.

General Range.—Western temperate North America from northern Lower
California north to southern British Columbia, east to New Mexico and
western Texas, and south over tablelands of Mexico.

Range in Washington.—Rare summer resident, chiefly west of Cascades.

Authorities.—[“Yellow-billed cuckoo” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T., 1884
(1885), 22]. Lawrence, Auk, Vol. IX., No. 1. Jan. 1892, p. 44. T.(?)
L¹. D¹. Ra. B. E.

Specimens.—(U. of. W.) Prov. E.

It is possible that these birds are really more numerous in Washington, west of the Cascades, than is generally supposed. They are, however, extremely shy and retiring in their habits, and very local in distribution. The latter characteristic is carried to such an extent that they may almost be said to colonize. For example, the only place they may be found with certainty, near Tacoma, is in a small area well within the city limits and surrounded by houses. In this small space four or five pairs may be found at any time during the summer.

Their harsh _krow-krow-krow-krow_, and the more plaintive _kru-kru, kru-kru_, is most often heard along the outskirts of some swamp encircled by a heavy growth of brush and small conifers mixed with deciduous trees. From the _krow-krow_ note the birds have gained the name Rain Crow, popular superstition pointing out the fact that it usually rains soon afterward (an occurrence not at all unlikely to happen in western Washington, irrespective of the suggestion of the Cuckoo).

Their food consists entirely of caterpillars, spiders, and other insects, this being perhaps the only bird to make war extensively upon the tent-caterpillar. The poem, “He sucks little birds’ eggs to make his voice clear,” etc., applies only to the Cuckoo of Europe. Small birds, it is true, are very often seen in pursuit of a Cuckoo, but this must be purely on account of its close resemblance in form to that of their arch-enemy, the Sharp-shinned Hawk.

The nest is rather a frail structure, tho much more bulky than nests of the Black-billed or Yellow-billed Cuckoo. It is placed from four to ten feet from the ground, usually nearer ten, and is most often built against the trunk of a baby fir. The materials used consist of coarse dead twigs, heavily lined with coarse tree-moss and sprays of dead fir needles.

The eggs are two or three in number, most often three, and are laid from the second week in June to the first of July. They are a pale bluish green in color, overlaid with a light chalky deposit, somewhat like that found on Cormorant eggs. In shape they vary from long to rounded oval, and average in measurement 1.60 × .99 inches. A week often elapses between the laying of the first and the last egg.

Upon one occasion I noticed a most interesting trait in these birds, which I never observed in any other species. While standing in an open woodland listening to a pair of Cuckoos calling to each other, I saw the male suddenly fly past with a large green worm in his bill. He flew directly to the female, who was perched in a tree a few yards distant, and for a moment or two they sat motionless a few inches apart looking at each other. The male then hovered lightly over his mate and, settling gently upon her shoulders, gracefully bent over and placed the worm in her bill. It was a pretty and daintily performed piece of love-making.

J. H. Bowles.

_Alcedinidæ_—The Kingfishers

No. 181.
BELTED KINGFISHER.

A. O. U. No. 390. Ceryle alcyon (Linn.).

Synonym.—Commonly called plain Kingfisher.

Description.—_Adult male_: Above, bright bluish gray, feathers with
blackish shafts or shaft-lines; loosely crested; edge of wing white;
primaries dusky, white-spotted on outer web, narrowly white-tipped,
broadly white on inner web; coverts often delicately tipped or touched
with white; tail bluish gray above, the central feathers with
herring-bone pattern of dusky; remaining feathers only blue-edged,
dusky, finely and incompletely barred with white; lower eyelid white,
and a white spot in front of eye; throat and sides of neck, nearly
meeting behind, pure white; a broad band of bluish gray across the
breast; remaining underparts white, sides under wing, and flanks,
heavily shaded with blue-gray; bill black, pale at base below; feet
dark. _Adult female_: Similar, but with a chestnut band across lower
breast, and with heavy shading of the same color on sides. _Immature_:
Like adults, except that the plumbeous band of breast is heavily mixed
with rusty (suggesting chestnut of female). Length 12.00-14.00
(304.8-355.6); wing 6.21 (157.7); tail 3.84 (97.5); bill from nostril
1.69 (42.9).

Recognition Marks.—“Kingfisher” size; blue-gray and white coloration;
piscatorial habits; rattling cry.

Nesting.—_Nest_: at end of tunnel in bank, four to six feet in,
unlined. _Eggs_, 6-8, pure white. Av. size, 1.31 × 1.04 (33.3 × 26.4).
_Season_: May; one brood.

General Range.—North America from the Arctic Ocean south to Panama and
the West Indies. Breeds from the southern border of the United States
northward.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident, chiefly at lower levels;
partially resident west of the Cascades, and casually resident on the
East-side.

Authorities.—[Lewis and Clark. Hist. Ex. (1814) Ed. Biddle: Coues.
Vol. II., p. 189.] _Ceryle alcyon_, Boie, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv.
IX., 1858, p. 158. T. C&S. L¹. D¹. Sr. Kb. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². Kk. J. B.
E.

Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.

When we were small boys and had successfully teased our fathers or big brothers to let us go fishing with them, we were repeatedly admonished not to “holler” for fear of scaring the fish. This gratuitous and frequently emphatic advice would have been discredited if the example of the Kingfisher had been followed. Either because noise doesn’t matter to fish, or because he is moved by the same generous impulse which prompts the cougar to give fair and frightful warning of his presence at the beginning of an intended foray, the bird makes a dreadful racket as he moves up stream and settles upon his favorite perch, a bare branch overlooking a quiet pool. Here, altho he waits long and patiently, he not infrequently varies the monotony of incessant scrutiny by breaking out with his weird rattle—like a watchman’s call, some have said; but there is nothing metallic about it, only wooden. Again, when game is sighted, he rattles with excitement before he makes a plunge; and when he bursts out of the water with a wriggling minnow in his beak, he clatters in high glee. If, as rarely happens, the bird misses the stroke, the sputtering notes which follow speak plainly of disgust, and we are glad for the moment that Kingfisher talk is not exactly translatable.

It is not quite clear whether the bird usually seizes or spears its prey, altho it is certain that it sometimes does the latter. The story is told of a Kingfisher which, spying some minnows in a wooden tub nearly filled with water, struck so eagerly that its bill penetrated the bottom of the tub, and so thoroly that the bird was unable to extricate itself; and so died—a death almost as ignominious as that of the king who was drowned in a butt of Malmsey wine.

When a fish is taken the bird first thrashes it against its perch to make sure it is dead, and then swallows it head foremost. If the fish is a large one its captor often finds it necessary to go thru the most ridiculous contortions, gaspings, writhings, chokings, regurgitations, and renewed attempts, in order to encompass its safe delivery within.

Kingfishers have the reputation of being very unsocial birds. Apart from their family life, which is idyllic, this reputation is well sustained. Good fishing is so scarce that the birds deem it best to portion off the territory with others of their own kind, and they are very punctilious about the observance of boundaries and allotments. For the rest, why should they hunt up avian companions, whose tastes are not educated to an appreciation of exposed, water-soaked stubs, and a commanding view of river scenery? However, I did once see a Kingfisher affably hobnobbing with a Kingbird, on a barren branch which overlooked a crystal stream in Idaho. I wonder if they recognized a mutual kingliness, this humble fisherman and this petulant hawk-driver?

Kingfisher courtship is a very noisy and spirited affair. One does not know just how many miles up and down stream it is considered proper for the gallant to pursue his enamorata before she yields a coy acceptance; and it is difficult to perceive how the tender passion can survive the din of the actual proposal, where both vociferate in wooden concert to a distracted world. But la! love is mighty and doth mightily prevail.

The nesting tunnel is driven laterally into the face of a steep bank, preferably of sand or loam, usually directly over the water, but occasionally at a considerable distance from it. Dr. Brewer reports one in a gravel pit at least a mile from water. The birds are not so particular as are the Bank Swallows about digging near the top of the bank, but, especially if the bank is small, usually select a point about midway. The tunnel goes straight in or turns sharply to suit an occasional whim, until a convenient depth, say five or six feet, is reached, when a considerable enlargement is made for the nest chamber. Here, early in May, six or seven white eggs are laid, usually upon the bare earth, but sometimes upon a lining of grass, straw and trash. From time to time the birds eject pellets containing fish scales, the broken testæ of crawfish and other indigestible substances and these are added to the accumulating nest material. Sanitary regulations are not very strict in Kingfisher’s home, and by the time the young are ready to fly we could not blame them for being glad to get away. The female is a proverbially close sitter, often permitting herself to be taken with the hand, but not until after she has made a vigorous defense with her sharp beak. If a stick be introduced into the nest she will sometimes seize it so tightly that she can be lifted from the eggs, turtle fashion.

The parents are very busy birds after the young have broken shell, and it takes many a quintal of fish to prepare six, or maybe seven, lusty fisher princes for the battle of life. At this season the birds hunt and wait upon their young principally at night, in order not to attract hostile attention to them by daylight visits. Only one brood is raised in a season, and since fishing is unquestionably a fine art, the youngsters require constant supervision and instruction for several months. A troop of six or eight birds seen in August or early in September does not mean that Kingfisher is indulging in mid-summer gaities with his fellows, but only that the family group of that season has not yet been broken up.

The Kingfisher is not only a fresh water bird of wide distribution, but a lover of the sea. It is found thruout the length of our ample shores on both sound and ocean; but is, of course, most common where suitable nesting bluffs of clay or sand are afforded. Thruout western Washington the bird is largely resident, and if this very stable species ever does begin to show variation, it will be in the Pacific Northwest.

Footnotes

[1]The Birds of Ohio, by William Leon Dawson, A. M., B. D., with
Introduction and Analytical Keys by Lynds Jones, M. Sc. One and Two
Volumes, pp. xlviii. + 671. Columbus, The Wheaton Publishing
Company, 1903.

[2]Key to North American Birds, by Elliott Coues, A. M., M. D., Ph. D.,
Fifth Edition (entirely revised), in Two Volumes; pp. xli. + 1152.
Boston, Dana Estes and Company, 1903.

[3]The Birds of North and Middle America, by Robert Ridgway, Curator,
Division of Birds, U. S. National Museum, Bulletin of the U. S. N.
M., No. 50; Pt. I., _Fringillidae_, pp. xxxi. + 715 and Pl. XX.
(1901); Pt. II., _Tanagridae_, etc., pp. xx. + 834 and Pl. XXII.
(1902); Pt. III., _Motacillidae_, etc., pp. xx. + 801 and Pl. XIX.
(1904); Pt. IV., _Turdidae_, etc., pp. xxll. + 973 and Pl. XXXIV.
(1907).

[4]“The Naturalist in Vancouver Island and British Columbia,” by John
Keast Lord. Two Vols. London. Published by Richard Bentley, 1866.
Vol. II., p. 70.

[5]Rep. Pac. R. R. Survey, Vol. XII., Bk. II. [Senate, 1860].

[6]Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, Vol. VI., p. 140.

[7]The Auk, Vol. III., 1886, p. 167.

[8]Life Histories of N. A. Birds, Vol. II., p. 394.

[9]Handbook Birds of the Western U. S., pp. 278-9.

[10]The Auk, Vol. XVII., Oct. 1900, p. 354.

[11]The Auk, Vol. IX., Jan. 1892, p. 45.

[12]Since writing the above specimens have been taken at Kirkland by
Miss Jennie V. Getty (Dec. 1908).

[13]Rep. Nat’l Hist. Coll. in Alaska, pp. 174, 175.

[14]By “shading” here is not meant subspecific relationship, altho this
does obtain as regarding both _griseonucha_ and _littoralis_, but
rather suggestive relationship, assumed divergence from a common
stock.

[15]“Birds of Illinois,” Vol. I., p. 263.

[16]So called for decades, but now lost to us thru the latest caprice of
nomenclature. _Varium et mutabile semper A. O. U. Check-List._

[17]Until the season of 1908. See _ante_ under “Migrations.”

[18]“(?) Bendire, Proc. Bost. Soc. N. H. XIX., 1877, 118 (Camp Harney,
e. Oregon, breeding)” (Ridgway).

[19]Based upon that of _Melospiza melodia_ from which it differs
slightly in proportions but chiefly in grayer coloration. The
measurements are those of Ridgway, Birds of N. & M. A., Vol. I., p.
358.

[20]Birds of North and Mid. Am., Vol. I., p. 391.

[21]Birds of North and Middle America, Vol. I., p. 401.

[22]Coues, “Birds of the Northwest” (Ed. 1874), p. 177.

[23]Lynds Jones in Dawson’s “The Birds of Ohio,” p. 94.

[24]Applied to _P. erythromelas_ in “The Birds of Ohio,” p. 109, and
exactly applicable here.

[25]Handbook of Birds of W. U. S., p. 419.

[26]Coues’ Key to N. A. Birds, Fourth Edition, is especially referred
to. The matter has been corrected in the Fifth Edition.

[27]The Condor, Vol. VIII., March 1906, p. 41.

[28]“Narrative,” April 1839, p. 343.

[29]A Review of the Larks of the Genus Otocoris, Proc. U. S. Nat’l Mus.,
Vol. XXIV., pp. 801-884, 1902.

[30]Much clearer testimony is required on this point. Oberholser, _op.
cit._, p. 839, cites a record for Colton in Whitman County, but I
have never seen this form in Yakima County; and it would seem
remarkable that a bird should forsake the mild climate of Tacoma to
endure the more severe winters and less certain food supply of the
East-side.

[31]A near view of this remarkable nest was forbidden by the breaking of
a negative.

[32]Narrative of a Journey Across the Rocky Mountains to the Columbia
River [etc.], by John K. Townsend (1839), p. 339. Townsend’s
“Catalog of birds found in the territory of the Oregon,” which
appeared in this work, pp. 331-336, enjoys the distinction of being
the first faunal list of this northwestern region. It contains 208
titles but the naturalist included in it mention of many species
encountered by him in his passage of the Rocky Mountains, and he
does not, of course, distinguish between the regions lying north and
south of the Columbia River. Of the total number recorded,
therefore, Washington cannot possibly be entitled to above 168
species, and the list has little value in establishing the status of
a bird as a resident of Washington.

[33]Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., Vol. VI., 1857, p. 82.

[34]Coues, Birds of the Northwest (1874), pp. 95, 96.

[35]Prof. O. B. Johnson in his “List of the Birds of the Willamette
Valley, Oregon” [Am. Naturalist, July, 1880, p. 487] has made an
excellent characterization of this song in “_Holsey, govendy,
govindy, goveendy_.”

[36]Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., Vol. XII., Book II., 1860, p. 171.

[37]Auk, vol. XV., April, 1898, p. 130.

[38]Narrative (1839), p. 344.

[39]Baird, Brewer & Ridgway, Vol. I., p. 65 [Reprint].

[40]Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., Vol XII., 1859, p. 173.

[41]Baird, Brewer & Ridgway, Land Birds, Vol. I., p. 66 [Reprint].

[42]“American Birds,” by William Lovell Finley (1907), p. 170.

[43]First record by R. H. Lawrence: Two seen on Stevens Prairie [Gray’s
Harbor County] April 22 [1891] (_Vide_ Àuk, Vol. IX., Jan. 1892, p.
47). Second record by the author: Male and female with five
full-grown young encountered near Sluiskin Falls on Mt. Rainier,
July 7, 1908, at an altitude of 6500 feet.

[44]Ridgway: Six specimens.

[45]“The present example of an isolated colony of a particular form, or
what must be regarded as the same form in the absence of obvious
distinctive characters, is one of several instances which are very
troublesome to both the systematist and the student of geographic
distribution. The birds of this species occurring, exclusively, in
the area defined above are clearly intermediates between _P. a.
septentrionalis_, a form larger and paler than _P. a. atricapillus_,
which occupies the region immediately eastward, and _P. a.
occidentalis_, a form smaller and darker than _P. a. atricapillus_,
which inhabits the region immediately westward. It thus happens
that, while these puzzling birds are practically, if not absolutely,
indistinguishable from _P. a. atricapillus_ they can hardly be
considered exactly the same, since they are everywhere widely cut
off from the latter by the very extensive area occupied by _P. a.
septentrionalis_.”—Ridgway.

[46]Shading into the following variety, _C. f. occidentalis_, upon the
lower levels.

[47]“The Birds of Cheney, Washington,” The Condor, Vol. VIII., Jan.,
1906, p. 25 [No scientific name given].

[48]“The Birds of N. and M. America,” Vol. III., p. 659.

[49]Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. XII., pt. II., 1860, p.
185.

[50]Rev. S. H. Goodwin in “The Condor,” Vol. VII., No. 4, p. 100.

[51]The Auk, Vol. XX., July, 1903, p. 283.

[52]“Pacific Sportsman,” Vol. 2, June, 1905, p. 270.

[53]The Condor, Vol. VII., July, August, 1905, p. 100.

[54]Birds of Gray’s Harbor, Wash., Auk, Vol. IX., Jan., 1892, p. 46.

[55]Bull. Am. Mus. Nat. Hist., N. Y., Vol. III., p. 149.

[56]The Auk, Vol. IX., Oct., 1892, p. 396.

[57]The Auk, Vol. XV., Jan., 1898, p. 18.

[58]Auk, Vol. XIX., Apr., 1902, p. 138.

[59]Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Phila., 1893, p. 54.

[60]Cat. B. C. Birds Prov. Mus., Victoria, 1904, p. 52.

[61]C. W. and J. H. Bowles in The Auk, Vol. XV., Apr., 1898, p. 139.

[62]Ridgway (B. of N. & M. Am.) recognizes two color phases of this
bird, a white- and a yellow-bellied. In the latter the plumage of
upperparts inclines more strongly to olivaceous.

[63]Auk, Vol. IX., Jan. 1892, p. 44.

[64]Bendire, Life Histories N. A. Birds, Vol. II., pp. 217, 218.

[65]Bendire, Life Hist. N. A. Birds, Vol. II., p. 219.

[66]The Hummingbirds (Rep. Nat. Mus., 1890, pp. 253-383, plate I).

[67]These words are used advisedly. The case reported from the sea-wall
of Santa Cruz County, California, claims _no_ nest and only _one_
egg. If this be not a case of misidentification, then it is an
example of freak nesting utterly at variance with all Swift
traditions, and with much that is actually known concerning the
habits of this species.

The classic instance reported from Seattle in the columns of the Auk
(Vol. V., ’88, p. 424) of a nest “made of straws, chips, paper,
etc.,” proved to concern the handiwork of the Purple Martin (_Progne
subis_), but the mistake was a not unnatural one in view of the then
rarity of the Martin.

[68]Life Hist. N. A. Birds, Vol. II., 1895, p. 176.

[69]Life Hist. N. A. Birds, Vol. II., p. 185.

[70]Allan Brooks in The Auk, Vol. XXVI., Jan. 1909.

[71]The Auk, vol. V., 1888, p. 253.

[72]“Birds of Ohio,” p. 350.

[73]The Wilson Bulletin, No. 39, June, 1902, p. 63.

[74]Life Histories of N. A. Birds, Vol. II., p. 107.

Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and
dialect unchanged.

--Added section headings for bird families to allow linking entries in
the table of contents.

--Removed “Nesting Site of the Tawny Creeper (Half-tone)” from the list
of plates, since it is a photograph.

--In the text versions, consistently used spaced dashes - - - to
indicate the length of pauses between notes.