The Birds of Washington (Volume 1 of 2) A complete, scientific and popular account of the 372 species of birds found in the state

Part 11

Chapter 113,876 wordsPublic domain

This female Cassin was a wearisome bird, for she sat and twittered inanely, or coaxed, every minute her husband was in the tree. He, poor soul, was visibly annoyed at her indolence, not to say her wantonness, and had as little to do with her as possible. However, he was a young fellow, without a bit of red on him, and he should not have been over-critical of his first mate in honeymoon.

On the pine-clad slopes of Cannon Hill in Spokane, there is no more familiar sound in June than the wanton note of the female Cassin Finch, _oreé-eh, oreé-eh_, delivered as often as not with quivering wings, and unmistakably inviting the attentions of the male. Perhaps it is fair to call this a love note, but it is delivered with the simpering insistence of a spoiled child.

The sight of a singing male in high plumage is memorable. He selects a position at the tip of a pine branch, or perhaps on a bunch of cones at the very top of the tree, and throws himself into the work. His color, crimson, not purple, is pure and clear upon the crown only; elsewhere, upon nape, shoulders, and breast, it presents merely a suffusion of red. A song heard near Chelan was much like that of a California Purple Finch in character, but less musical and more chattering, with the exception of one strong note thrown in near the close. This note was very like the characteristic squeal of the Evening Grosbeak, _gimp_, or _thkimp_, out of all keeping with the remainder—unquestionably borrowed.

The Cassin Finch is quite as successful as a mimic as his cousin from California. Besides his own wild, exultant notes, he rapidly strings together those of other birds, and renders the whole with the spontaneity and something of the accent of the Lark Sparrow. Indeed, when I first heard one sing on a crisp May morning on the banks of the Columbia, I thought I was hearing a rare burst of the latter bird, so much of its song had been appropriated by the Finch. Besides this, strains of Western Vesper Sparrow, Mountain Bluebird, and Louisiana Tanager were recognized.

No. 34. CALIFORNIA PURPLE FINCH.

A. O. U. No. 517a. Carpodacus purpureus californicus Baird.

Description.—_Adult male_: General body plumage rich crimson or rosy red, clearest on crown and upper tail-coverts, more or less mingled with dusky on back and scapulars, passing into white on crissum and under tail-coverts; wings and tail brownish dusky with reddish edgings. Bill and feet brownish. _Adult female_: Above olive dusky in streaks, with edging or gloss of brighter olivaceous; underparts whitish, everywhere, save on middle abdomen, crissum and under tail-coverts, streaked with olive dusky, finely on throat, broadly on breast and sides, shading into pattern of upperparts on sides of head, neck and chest. _Immature male, and male in ordinary(?) plumage_: exactly like female in coloration. Length about 5.75 (146); wing 3.07 (78); tail 2.28 (58); bill .45 (11.5); tarsus .70 (17.9).

Recognition Marks.—“Warbler size” but sturdier, an unmistakable sparrow; rosy coloration of male distinctive (without crossed mandibles) but _streaky_ pattern oftenest seen. Distinguishable from the Pine Siskin (_Spinus pinus_) by larger size, more sedate ways and absence of sulphury wing- and tail-markings.

Nesting.—_Nest_: well built, of fir twigs, heavily lined with green moss, horse-hair, string, etc.; placed in tree (deciduous or evergreen) at elevation of 5-40 feet and usually at some distance from trunk; measures outside 5 in. wide by 3 in. deep, inside 2½ in. wide by 1¼ in. deep. _Eggs_: 4 or 5, light greenish blue, spotted and streaked with violaceous and black, chiefly about the larger end. Round ovate to elongate ovate; varying in dimensions from .75 × .56 (19 × 14.2) to .91 × .59 (22.8 × 15). _Season_: first week in May and first week in June; two broods.

General Range.—Pacific coast district from southern California north to British Columbia (including Vancouver Island). More or less resident thruout range but drifts (casually?) to southeastward in Arizona during migrations.

Range in Washington.—West-side, chiefly at lower levels; especially partial to orchards and cultivated sections. Irregularly resident but numbers augmented in spring.

Authorities.—_Carpodacus californicus_ Baird, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, 414. T. C&S. L². Rh. Kb. Ra. Kk. B. E.

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

Of the streaked, streaky is this demure and inoffensive bird in the olivaceous plumage, in which we usually see him, and always see _her_. But the sharpness and magnitude of the dusky streaks above and below confer a measure of distinction, even when there is no trace of the adult crimsons, miscalled purple. This finch is a familiar object about the gardens, orchards, and parks in Western Washington. It moves about for the most part silently, inspecting birds and flowers, sampling fruit, or gleaning seeds from the ground in company with its own kind, or with the humbler and equally streaked Siskins. While not altogether dependent upon human bounty, it probably owes more to man than does any other native species.

Wright’s Park, in Tacoma, appears to lead the state by two weeks in the early budding of its flowering plants, and here Purple Finches appear to the best advantage. In the luxuriant bushes of the red flowering currant (_Ribes sanguineum_) one may see them feeding during the last week of March. The Finches pluck the flowers assiduously, and either eat the fleshy part at the base, the tender ovary, or else press out the nectar just above, or both. A flower is first plucked off whole and held in the bill, while the bird appears to _smack its lips_ several times; then the crimson corolla is allowed to drop upon the ground, which thus becomes carpeted with rejected beauty. Like many related species, the California Finch is rather unwary, so that one may study his behavior at close range.

Because the Purple Finch is usually so unobtrusive, we are startled at the first outburst of spring song. Nothing more spontaneous could be desired, and the mellow, musical yodelling of this bird is one of the choicest things allowed us on the West-side. The song is midway between a trill and a carol, and has a wild quality which makes it very attractive. The notes are so limpid and penetrating that one is sometimes deceived as to the distance of the singer, supposing him to be in a neighboring copse when, in truth, he occupies a distant fir-top. _Cheedooreédooreé dooreé dooreé dooreé dooreé dooreé dreeetoreet_ may afford an idea of the rolling, rollicking character of the song, but is, of course, absurdly inadequate.

A master singer among the Purple Finches once entertained us from the top of a fir tree a hundred feet high. He was in the dull plumage, that is, without red; and altho he sang briskly at intervals we were not prepared for any unusual exhibition of vocal powers on his part. It was a long time, therefore, before we put the cry of a distant Steller Jay up to him. Our suspicions once aroused, however, we caught not only the Steller jay cry, unmistakably, but also half a dozen others in swift and dainty succession, after the usual Purple Finch prelude. I clearly recognized notes of the Flicker, Steller Jay, _Canary_, American Crossbill, and Seattle Wren. These imitative efforts varied in correctness of execution, and came to us with the distance of the original singer plus that of the Finch, so that the result was not a little confusing, tho very delightful when explained.

During courtship this Finch will execute an aerial song-dance, consisting of sundry jerks and crazy antics, interspersed with a medley of ecstatic notes; at the conclusion of which he will make a suggestive dive at his fianceé, who meanwhile has been poking fun at him.

For some reason nests have been exceedingly hard to find. Many birds are always pottering about with no apparent concern for nesting time, and Mr. Bowles hazards that they do not mate until the third year. Apropos of this, one remarks the scarcity of highly plumaged males at all seasons. I have gone six months at a time, where Finches were not uncommon, without seeing a single _red_ bird. In fact, I never found the latter common except in the vicinity of Tacoma.

Nests are placed, preferably, near water, in evergreen or deciduous trees, and at heights varying from six to forty feet. They usually occur on a bough at some distance from the trunk of a supporting tree, seldom or never being found in a crotch. Composed externally of fir twigs, they are lined copiously with green moss, horse-hair, and string, and contain four or five handsome blue-green eggs, spotted and dashed with violet and black.

Two broods are probably brought off in a season, the first about the 20th of May and the second a month later. A sitting female outdoes a Siskin in her devotion to duty, and not infrequently requires to be lifted from her eggs. The male trusts everything to his wife upon these occasions, but is on hand to do his share of the work when it comes to feeding the babies.

No. 35. ENGLISH SPARROW.

Introduced. Passer domesticus (Linn.).

Synonyms.—House Sparrow. Domestic Sparrow. Hoodlum.

Description.—_Adult male_: Above ashy gray; middle of back and scapulars heavily streaked with black and bay; tail dusky; a chestnut patch behind eye spreading on shoulders; lesser wing-coverts chestnut; middle coverts bordered with white, forming a conspicuous white bar during flight; remainder of wing dusky with bay edging; below ashy gray or dirty white; a black throat-patch continuous with lores and fore-breast; bill and feet horn color. _Adult female_: Brownish rather than gray above; bay edging lighter; no chestnut, unmarked below. Length 5.50-6.25 (139.7-158.8); wing 3.00 (76.2); tail 2.20 (55.9); bill .50 (12.7). Sexes of about equal size.

Recognition Marks.—“Sparrow size,” black throat and breast of male; female obscure brownish and gray.

Nesting.—_Nest_: a globular mass of grass, weeds and trash, heavily lined with feathers, placed in tree and with entrance in side; or else heavily lined cavity anywhere. Holes in trees and electric lamps are alike favored. _Eggs_: 4-7, whitish, heavily dotted and speckled with olive-brown or dull black. The markings often gather about the larger end; sometimes they entirely obscure the ground color. Av. size, .86 × .62 (21.8 × 15.8). _Season_: March-September; several broods.

General Range.—“Nearly the whole of Europe, but replaced in Italy by _P. italiæ_, extending eastward to Persia and Central Asia, India, and Ceylon” (Sharpe). “Introduced and naturalized in America, Australia, New Zealand, etc.” (Chapman).

Range in Washington.—As yet chiefly confined to larger cities and railroad towns, but spreading locally in farming sections.

Authorities.—Rathbun, Auk, Vol. XIX. Apr. 1902, p. 140. Ra. Kk. B. E.

Specimens.—B. C.

What a piece of mischief is the Sparrow! how depraved in instinct! in presence how unwelcome! in habit how unclean! in voice how repulsive! in combat how moblike and despicable! in courtship how wanton and contemptible! in increase how limitless and menacing! the pest of the farmer! the plague of the city! the bane of the bird-world! the despair of the philanthropist! the thrifty and insolent beneficiary of misguided sentiment! the lawless and defiant object of impotent hostility too late aroused! Out upon thee, thou shapeless, senseless, heartless, misbegotten tyrant! thou tedious and infinite alien! thou myriad cuckoo, who dost by thy consuming presence bereave us daily of a million dearer children! Out upon thee, and woe the day!

Without question the most deplorable event in the history of American ornithology was the introduction of the English Sparrow. The extinction of the Great Auk, the passing of the Wild Pigeon and the Turkey,—sad as these are, they are trifles compared to the wholesale reduction of our smaller birds, which is due to the invasion of this wretched foreigner. To be sure he was invited to come, but the offense is all the more rank because it was partly human. His introduction was effected in part by people who ought to have known better, and would, doubtless, if the science of ornithology had reached its present status as long ago as the early Fifties. The maintenance and prodigious increase of the pest is still due in a measure to the imbecile sentimentality of people who build bird-houses and throw out crumbs for “the dear little birdies,” and then care nothing whether honest birds or scalawags get them. Such people belong to the same class as those who drop kittens on their neighbors’ door-steps because they wouldn’t have the heart to kill them themselves, you know.

The increase of this bird in the United States is, to a lover of birds, simply frightful. Their fecundity is amazing and their adaptability apparently limitless. Mr. Barrows, in a special report prepared under the direction of the Government, estimates that the increase of a single pair, if unhindered, would amount in ten years to 275,716,983,698 birds.

As to its range, we note that the subjugation of the East has long been accomplished, and that the conquest of the West is succeeding rapidly. It is not possible to tell precisely when the first Sparrows arrived in Washington, but it is probable that they appeared in Spokane about 1895. Of its occurrence in Seattle, Mr. Rathbun says: “Prior to the spring of 1897 I had never seen this species in Seattle, but in June of that year I noted a pair. The following season I saw fourteen; in 1899 this number had increased to about seventy, associating in small flocks.”

The favorite means of dissemination has been the box car, and especially the grain car. The Sparrows, being essentially grain and seed eaters, frequent the grain cars as they stand in the railroad yards, and are occasionally imprisoned in them, hopeful stowaways and “gentlemen of fortune.” On this account, also, the larger cities and railroad towns are first colonized, and at this time of writing (Jan., 1908) the birds are practically confined to them, Tacoma having an especial notoriety in this respect because of its immense grain-shipping interests.

Difficult as it may seem, it is true that the English Sparrow adopts the policy of Uriah Heep upon first entering a town. With all the unctuous humility of a band of Mormon apostles, the newcomers talk softly, walk circumspectly, and either seek to escape notice altogether, or else assiduously cultivate the good opinion of their destined dupes. Thus, I resided in the town of Blaine for two months (in 1904) without running across a single member of the pioneer band of nine English Sparrows, altho I was assured on good authority that the birds had been there for at least two years previous.

It requires no testimony to show that the presence of this bird is absolutely undesirable. It is a scourge to the agriculturist, a plague to the architect, and the avowed and determined enemy of all other birds. Its nests are not only unsightly but unsanitary, and the maudlin racket of their owners unendurable. The bird is, in short, in the words of the late Dr. Coues, “a nuisance without a redeeming quality.” Altho we assent to this most heartily, we are obliged to confess on the part of our race to a certain amount of sneaking admiration for the Sparrow. And why, forsooth? Because he fights! We are forced to admire, at times, his bull-dog courage and tenacity of purpose, as we do the cunning of the weasel and the nimbleness of the flea. He is vermin and must be treated as such; but, give the Devil his due, of course. What are we going to do about it? Wage unceasing warfare, as we do against rats. There will possibly be rats as long as there are men, but a bubonic plague scare operates very effectually to reduce their numbers. No doubt there will be English Sparrows in cities as long as there are brick-bats, but a clear recognition of their detestable qualities should lead every sensible person to deny them victuals and shelter. The House Sparrow is no longer exterminable, but he may be, _must be_ kept within bounds.

No. 36. SNOWFLAKE.

A. O. U. No. 534. Plectrophenax nivalis (Linn.)

Synonym.—Snow Bunting.

Description.—_Adult male in summer_: Pure white save for bill, feet, middle of back, scapulars, bastard wing, the end half of primaries and inner secondaries, and the middle tail-feathers, which are black. _Female in summer_: Similar, but upperparts streaked all over with black, and the black wings largely replaced by fuscous. _Adults in winter_: Entire upperparts overcast with browns—rusty or seal brown—clear on crown, grayish and mottled with dusky centers of feathers on back, scapulars, etc.; also rusty ear-patches, and a rusty collar, with faint rusty wash on sides. The black of wing and tail-feathers is less pure (fuscous in the female) and edged with white or tawny. Length 6.50-7.00 (165.1-177.8); wing 4.12 (104.6); tail 2.54 (64.5); bill .40 (10.2).

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; conspicuously and uniquely white, with blacks and browns above.

Nesting.—Does not breed in Washington. “_Nest_: on the ground in the sphagnum and tussocks of Arctic regions, of a great quantity of grass and moss, lined profusely with feathers. _Eggs_: 4-6, very variable in size and color, about .90 × .65 (22.9 × 16.5), white or whitish, speckled, veined, blotched, and marbled with deep browns and neutral tints” (Coues.).

General Range.—“Northern parts of the northern hemisphere, breeding in the Arctic regions; in North America south in winter into the northern United States, irregularly to Georgia, southern Illinois, Kansas and Oregon.”

Range in Washington.—East-side, of regular occurrence in open country; casual west of the Cascades.

Migrations.—Nov. 4, 1899 (Yakima County). March 17, 1896 (Okanogan County).

Authorities.—[“Snow Bunting,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884 (1885), 22.] Dawson, Auk, XIV. 1897, 178. T. D¹. D². B. E.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. B. E. P.

I well remember my first meeting with this prince of storm waifs, the Snowflake. It was in Chelan County on a chilly day in December. A distant-faring, feathered stranger had tempted me across a bleak pasture, when all at once a fluttering snowdrift, contrary to Nature’s wont, rose from earth toward heaven. I held my breath and listened to the mild babel of _tut-ut-ut-tews_, with which the Snow Buntings greeted me. The birds were loath to leave the place, and hovered indecisively while the bird-man devoured them with his eyes. As they moved off slowly, each bird seemed alternately to fall and struggle upward thru an arc of five or six feet, independently of his fellows, so that the flock as a whole produced quite the effect of a troubled snowstorm.

Snowflakes flock indifferently in winter and may occur in numbers up to several hundred. At other times a single, thrilling, vibrant call-note, _tew_ or _te-ew_, may be heard during the falling of the real flakes, while the wandering mystery passes overhead, unseen. Stray birds not infrequently mingle with flocking Horned Larks; while Snowflakes and Lapland Longspurs are fast friends in the regions where the latter are common.

Probably these birds are of regular tho sparing occurrence in the Big Bend and Palouse countries, but they do not often reach the southern border of the State; and their appearance on Puget Sound, as upon the prairies of Pierce County, is quite unusual. While with us they move aimlessly from field to field in open situations, or glean the weed-seed, which forms their almost exclusive diet. In time of storm, or when emboldened by the continuance of winter, they may make their appearance in the barnyard, or about the outbuildings, where their sprightly notes and innocent airs are sure to make them welcome.

It is difficult to conceive how these birds may withstand the frightful temperatures to which they are subjected in a winter upon the Saskatchewan plains, and yet they endure this by preference to the effeminizing influences which are believed to prevail south of “Forty-nine,” and especially west of the Rockies. Close-knit feathers, the warmest covering known, fortified by layers of fat, render them quite impervious to cold; and as for the raging blizzard, the birds have only to sit quietly under the snow and wait till the blast has blown itself out.

The sun alone prevails, as in the case of the man with the cloak, and at the first hint of the sun’s return to power, these ice-children hasten back to find their chilly cradles. A few nest upon the Aleutian Islands, and along the shores of northern Alaska; but more of them resort to those ice-wrapped islands of the far North, which are mere names to the geographer and dismal memories to a few hardy whalers. Peary’s men found them breeding in Melville Land; and if there is a North Pole, be assured that some Snowflake is nestling contentedly at the base of it.

No. 37. ALASKAN LONGSPUR.

A. O. U. 536a. Calcarius lapponicus alascensis Ridgw.

Description.—_Adult male in summer_: Head, throat, and fore-breast black; a buffy line behind eye and sometimes over eye; a broad nuchal patch, or collar, of chestnut-rufous; remaining upperparts light grayish brown, streaked with black and with some whitish edging; below white; heavily streaked with black on sides and flanks; tail fuscous with oblique white patches on the outer rectrices; feet and legs black; bill yellow with black tip. _Adult male in winter_: Lighter above; the black of head and chestnut of cervical collar partially overlaid with buffy or whitish edging; the black of throat and breast more or less obscured by whitish edging. _Adult female in summer_: Similar to male in summer, but no continuous black or chestnut anywhere; the black of head mostly confined to centers of feathers,—these edged with buffy; the chestnut of cervical collar only faintly indicated as edging of feathers with sharply outlined dusky centers; black of throat and chest pretty thoroly obscured by grayish edging, but the general pattern retained; sides and flanks with a few sharp dusky streaks. _Adult female in winter_: [Description of October specimen taken in Seattle] Above buffy grayish brown streaked (centrally upon feathers) with black, wing coverts and tertials with rusty areas between the black and the buffy, and tipped with white; underparts warm buffy brownish, lightening on lower breast, abdomen, and under tail-coverts (where immaculate), lightly streaked with black on throat, chest, and sides, sharply on sides and flanks. Length of adult males about 6.50; wing 3.77 (95.8); tail 2.50 (63.3); bill .46 (11.7); tarsus .86 (21.8). Female smaller.

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; terrestrial habits; black head and breast of male. The bird may be distinguished from the Horned Lark, with which it sometimes associates, by the greater extent of its black areas, and by the chirruping or rattling cry which it makes when rising from the ground.

Nesting.—Does not breed in Washington. _Nest_: in grass tussock on ground, flimsy or bulky, of grasses and moss, frequently water-soaked, and lined carefully with fine coiled grass, and occasionally feathers. _Eggs_: 4-6, light clay-color with a pale greenish tinge, variously marked,—speckled, spotted, scrawled, blotched, or entirely overlaid with light brown or chocolate brown. Av. size .80 × .62 (20.3 × 15.7). _Season_: first week in June; one brood.