Part 14

Juncoes, moreover, are erratic in their migrations, and in the West, at least, tend to become non-migratory. While Oregon Juncoes are the common winter birds of Puget Sound, Shufeldt’s are not entirely absent at this season, and we may even look to see them hold their own thruout the year. The problem is further complicated by what we call vertical migration, by which is meant that mountain birds descend to the valleys in winter instead of flying southward. Our winter Shufeldts, therefore, may or may not be strictly resident on, say, Steilacoom Prairie. The summer birds may retire to California; the winter birds may have descended from the Olympics or Mount Rainier.

No. 48. SHUFELDT’S JUNCO.

A. O. U. No. 567b. Junco oreganus shufeldti (Coale).

Synonyms.—Washington Junco. Hybrid Snow-bird (Coues). Rocky Mountain Junco (Coues).

Description.—_Adults_: Similar to _J. oreganus_ but back (in males) grayish, or grayish-brown to sepia; in females sepia to drab; black of head and throat more slaty; also averaging larger. _Length_: 6.00-6.50 (152.4-165); wing 3.15 (80); tail 2.72 (69); bill .43 (11); tarsus .83 (21).

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; black of head and throat contrasting with brownish-gray of back and with white of breast; _grayer_ on back than preceding.

Nesting.—_Nest_: much as in preceding, occasionally placed at moderate heights in trees. _Eggs_: 4 or 5, pale bluish white, spotted and blotched with light reddish brown and lavender, usually in light ring, occasionally in confluent mass about larger end; size larger than preceding. Av. .80 × .60 (20.3 × 15.2). _Season_: fourth week in April to August according to altitude; two broods.

General Range.—Breeding from northern Oregon north into British Columbia east to mountains of Alberta and Idaho; south in winter over Rocky Mountain plateau region to Mexico,—northern California.

Range in Washington.—Common summer resident thruout the State, in or near coniferous timber, from sea level to limit of trees; sparingly resident in winter chiefly west of Cascades.

Authorities.—As in preceding. (T). C&S. Sr. Ra. D². J. B. E.

Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. B. Bn.

However it may fare with the Oregon Junco (q. v.), the southern invaders, the birds with the rusty gray backs, now appear to possess the land. They have stolen back sometime in March, so unobtrusively we scarcely noticed when the substitution of gray-backs for red-backs was effected; but soon we do notice that the yards and clearings are frequented by happy rollicking troops of Shufeldt Juncoes, and we notice too that some pronounced flirtations are being carried on.

There is a jovial restlessness about these birds in flock which is contagious. Their every movement is accompanied by a happy titter, and the pursuit of necessities is never so stern that a saucy dare from one of their number will not send the whole company off pell-mell like a route of school-boys. Whenever a Junco starts to wing, it flashes a white signal in the lateral tail-feathers; and this convenient “recognition mark” enables the birds to keep track of each other thruout the maddest gambols in brush-lot or tree-top.

On a sunny day in March the Juncoes gather for a grand concert. The males mount the bush-tops and hold forth in rival strains, while the females lurk under cover and take counsel of their hearts. Junco’s song is a sweet little tinkling trill, not very pretentious, but tender and winsome. Interspersed with this is a variety of sipping and suckling notes, whose uses are hard to discern. Now and then, also, a forcible kissing sound may be heard, evidently a note of repulsion instead of attraction, for it is employed in the breeding season to frighten enemies. During the progress of the concert some dashing young fellow, unable fully to express his emotion in song, runs amuck, and goes charging about thru the woodsy mazes in a fine frenzy—without, however, quite spilling his brains. Others catch the excitement and the company breaks up in a mad whirl of amorous pursuit.

At the end of the brief song period, Juncoes deploy thruout the half-open woods or prairie borders of the entire State, from sea-level to timber-line. The variety and interest of their nesting habits are scarcely exceeded by those of any other bird. In general they appear to be guided by some thought of seclusion or protection in their choice of nesting sites. Steep hillsides or little banks are, therefore, favorite places, for here the bird may excavate a cool grotto in the earth, and allow the drapery of the hillside, mosses and running vines, to festoon and guard the approaches. At Newport we found them nesting in the road-cuts. At Snoqualmie the side of a haystack sheltered a confiding pair. At Tacoma the birds nest at the base of tiny clumps of oak, or under the shelter of brush-piles. Several nests have been found in old tin cans flung down upon the prairie and only half obscured by growing grasses. Again the birds trust to the density of vegetation, and shelter in the grass of unmowed orchards, weed-lots, and meadows. One site was found in which the bird occupied a carefully chosen fern arbor in the midst of a collection of whitened bones, evidently the mortal remains of a defunct draft horse. The situation was delightfully gruesome, and, touched no doubt with vanity, the owner sat for her portrait at four feet, á la Bernhardt.

Juncoes keep very quiet during the nesting season until disturbed, and they are very close sitters. When nearly stepped on the bird bursts off, and, if there are young, crawls and tumbles along the ground within a few feet of the intruder, displaying wings and tail in a most appealing manner. The _tssiks_ of both birds are incessantly repeated, and the whole woodside is set agog with apprehension.

If one posts himself in a suspected locality not too near the nest, it is only a question of time till the solicitude of the nursing mother will triumph over fear. One such I traced to a charming mossy bank, overlooking a woodland pool; but on the first occasion it took the parent bird exactly half an hour to go thru all the feints and preliminaries before she ventured on the final plunge. There were half-grown babies in this nest, and since we were in summer camp (at Glacier, near the foot of Mt. Baker), I resolved to make friends of this promising family with a view to portraiture.

As I sat next day watching my Juncoes, and waiting for the sun to get around and light up the vicinity of the nest, the call to dinner sounded. The mother bird, not without much misgiving and remonstrance, had just visited her babies, so I rose to go; but as I did so, caught sight of a stout garter snake, who lay watching the scene from a distance of fully twenty feet, a wicked gleam of intelligence in his eye. With quick suspicion of his purpose, I seized stones and hurled at his retreating form; but the ground was rough and he managed to escape into a large brush-pile. At table I ate hurriedly, listening the while for the faintest note of trouble. When it came, a quick outcry from both parents, instead of premonitory notes of discovery, I sprang to my feet, clutched a stick, and rushed down to the spring. Alas for us! Satan had found our Eden! The nest was emptied and the snake lay coiled over it in the act of swallowing one of the little birds. Not daring to strike, I seized him by the throat and released the baby Junco, whose rump only had disappeared into the devouring jaws. Then with the stick I made snake’s-head jelly on a rock and flung the loathsome reptile away. But it was all too late. One young bird lay drowned upon the bottom of the pool, and the other (I think there were only two) soon died of fright and the laceration of the hinder parts attendant upon ophidian deglutition. It was all so horrible! the malignant plan, the stealthy approach, the sudden alarm, the wanton destruction of the fledglings, the grief of the agonized parents, the remorse of the helper who came too late! Is it any wonder that our forbears have pictured the arch-enemy as a serpent?

No. 49. WESTERN TREE SPARROW.

A. O. U. No. 559 a. Spizella monticola ochracea Brewster.

Description.—_Adults_: Pileum, a streak behind eye and a small patch on side of chest cinnamon-rufous or light chestnut; a superciliary stripe and remaining portions of head and neck clear ashy gray; throat and chest of same shade superficially but duller by virtue of concealed dusky; an ill defined spot of dusky in center of lower chest; remaining underparts dull white washed on sides with brownish; general color of upperparts light buffy grayish brown, much outcropping black on back, scapulars and tertials; some rusty edging on back feathers, scapulars and greater wing-coverts; middle and greater wing-coverts tipped with white, forming two conspicuous bands; flight feathers and rectrices grayish dusky margined with whitish and buffy. Bill blackish above, yellow, tipped with dusky, below; legs brown, feet darker; iris brown. _In winter_ the cinnamon-rufous of crown is slightly veiled, especially along median area, by ashy skirtings of feathers, and the buffy of upperparts inclines to strengthen. Length about 6.00 (152.4); wing 3.00 (76); tail 2.68 (68); bill .39 (10); tarsus .82 (20.8).

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; resembles Western Chipping Sparrow but much larger; white wing-bars with chestnut of crown distinctive.

Nesting.—Does not breed in Washington. “_Nest_, in low bushes or on the ground, loosely constructed of bark strips, weeds and grasses, warmly lined with feathers. _Eggs_, 4-6, or even 7, pale green, minutely and regularly sprinkled with reddish brown spots” (Coues). Av. size, .75 × .60 (19.1 × 15.2).

General Range.—Breeding from the valley of Anderson River, near the Arctic coast westward thru Alaska to coast of Bering Sea, and for an undetermined distance southward; in winter south thru western North America to Arizona, Texas, etc., eastward across Rocky Mts. to Great Plains (Ridgway).

Range in Washington.—Not common winter resident and migrant. Has not recently been reported west of the Cascades.

Authorities.—Brewster, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club, VII. 1882, pp. 227, 228. (T). (C&S). Sr. D².

Specimens.—(U. of W.). P¹. Prov.

“The sight of the first Tree Sparrow in the fall serves perfectly to call up a vision of impending winter. Here are the hurrying blasts, the leaden skies, the piling snow-drifts, all ready to make the beholder shiver. But here, too, in some unburied weed patch, or thicket of rose-briars, is a company of Tree Sparrows, stout-hearted and cold-defying, setting up a merry tinkling chorus, as eloquent of good cheer as a crackling Yule-log. How many times has the bird-man hastened out after some cruel cold snap, thinking, ’Surely this will settle for my birds,’ only to have his fears rebuked by a troop of these hardy Norsemen revelling in some back pasture as if they had found their Valhalla on this side the icy gates. Ho! brothers! here is food in these capsules of mustard and cockle; here is wine distilled from the rose-hips; here is shelter in the weedy mazes, or under the soft blanket of the snow. What ho! Lift the light song! Pass round the cup again! Let mighty cheer prevail!” (Birds of Ohio).

Truth to tell, the Western Tree Sparrows are somewhat rare winter visitors, in eastern Washington only. In habits they do not appear to differ materially from the typical form, which is very abundant in winter thruout the northern tier of eastern states. In the nature of the case, while with us, their food, consisting as it does of grass- and weed-seeds and dried berries, is found near the ground; and so, for the season, the name Tree Sparrow seems inconsistent. When persistently annoyed, however, the flock will rise to the tree-tops in straggling fashion, and there either await the withdrawal of the intruder, or else make off at a good height.

The song of the Tree Sparrow is sweet and tuneful, affording a pleasing contrast to the monotonous ditty of the Western Chipping Sparrow. Snatches of song may be heard, indeed, on almost any mild day in winter; but the spring awakening assures a more pretentious effort. A common form runs, _Swee-ho, sweet, sweet, sweet_, with notes of a most flattering tenderness. But we may only guess at the bird’s full powers, for the home-making is in Alaska.

No. 50. WESTERN CHIPPING SPARROW.

A. O. U. No. 560 a. Spizella passerina arizonæ (Coues).

Synonyms.—Chippy. Hair-bird.

Description.—_Adult_: Crown bright chestnut; extreme forehead black with ashy median line; a light ashy superciliary stripe; lore and postocular streak black; underparts and sides of head and neck ashy gray, dullest on breast and sides, clearest on throat where nearly white; hind-neck and wings bluish ash, the former more or less streaked with blackish; back and scapulars light brown (isabella color) heavily streaked with black; wings and tail fuscous. Bill dark; feet light; iris brown. _Young birds_ are streaked with dusky above and below and lack the chestnut of crown. Length of adult males: 5.00-5.50 (127-139.7); wing 2.83 (72); tail 2.36 (60); bill .39 (10); tarsus .67 (17). Females smaller.

Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; chestnut crown and whitish superciliary distinctive.

Nesting.—_Nest_: A compact or careless structure of fine twigs, grasses, and (most commonly and often exclusively) rootlets, heavily lined with horse hair; placed in sage-bush, wild rose thicket or shrubbery, or else on horizontal branch of apple tree or evergreen. _Eggs_: 3-5, usually 4, greenish blue speckled freely or in narrow ring about larger end with reddish brown and black. Av. size, .71 × .51 (18 × 13). _Season_: April-July, usually May and June; two broods.

General Range.—Western North America from the Rockies to the Coast breeding from the southern border of the United States north to the Yukon Valley in Alaska, east over the western provinces of Canada; south in winter to Mexico and Lower California.

Range in Washington.—Common summer resident thruout the State chiefly in settled portions and more open situations.

Migrations.—_Spring_: Yakima, April 12, 1900; Chelan, April 24, 1896; Tacoma, April 12, 1905, April 11, 1906.

Authorities.—_Spizella socialis_ Bonap. Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, 473 part. (T). C&S. D¹. Ra. D². Ss². Kk. J. B. E.

Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. Prov. B. E.

Not all birds are fitly named, even in the “immutable Latin,” but this one has a very accurate title in _Spizella socialis arizonæ_[16], which we may freely translate as _the friendly little sparrow of the desert_. An obscure little fellow he is to eye, a skit done in faded browns, with a chestnut crown which still does not differentiate the owner from a withered corymb in his native sage. Of the desert he is, for there is no sage-brush wilderness too dreary to boast the presence of at least a few Chipping Sparrows. And friendly he is, beyond question, for there are few dooryards in the eastern part of the State where this bird is not a trustful visitor; and his presence in western Washington is nearly coextensive with that of man. For altho the Chipping Sparrow now abounds in the prairie region of Pierce and adjacent counties, it is instructive to note that its plumage gives no evidence of resaturation, or of departure from the bleached type, as would be the case if it belonged to one of the really “old families” of Puget Sound.

Whatever the weather, Chippy returns to us about the 12th day of April, posts himself on the tip of a fir branch, like a brave little Christmas candle, and proceeds to sputter, in the same part. Of all homely sounds the monotonous trill of the Western Chipping Sparrow is the most homely,—and the most easily forgivable. As music it scarcely ranks above the rattle of castanets; but the little singer pours out his soul full earnestly, and his ardor often leads him to sustained effort thruout the sultry hours when more brilliant vocalists are sulking in the shade; and for this we come to prize his homely ditty like the sound of plashing waters.

Two Chipping Sparrow songs heard near Tacoma deserve special mention. One likened itself in our ears to a tool being ground on a small emery wheel. The wheel has a rough place on its periphery which strikes against the tool with additional force and serves to mark a single revolution, but the continuous burr which underlies the accented points, or trill-crests, is satisfied by this comparison alone. The other effort, a peculiar buzz of varying intensity, carries forward the same idea of continuous sound, but the comparison changes. In this the song appears to pour from the tiny throat without effort, and its movement is as tho an unseen hand controlled an electric buzz, whose activity varies with the amount of “juice” turned on: zzzzzzzzzzt, zzz_zzzz_zzzt, _zzzz_zzzzzzt, ZZZ_ZZZZ_ZZZT, ZZZZZZZ_ZZZT_.

Chippy’s nest is a frail affair at best, altho often elaborately constructed of fine twigs, rootlets and grasses with a plentiful lining of horse-hair. In some instances the last-named material is exclusively employed. A sage-bush is the favorite situation on the plains of the Columbia, a horizontal fir branch in the wet country. Rose thickets are always popular, and where the bird frankly forsakes the wilds, ornamental shrubbery and vines are chosen. The nests are often so loosely related to their immediate surroundings as to give the impression of having been constructed elsewhere, and then moved bodily to their present site. Some are set as lightly as feathers upon the tips of evergreen branches, and a heavy storm in season is sure to bring down a shower of Chippies’ nests.

Eggs are laid during the first or second week of May in the vicinity of American Lake and from one to three weeks earlier in the sage country. They are among the most familiar objects in Nature, and particular description of them ought to be unnecessary. But every person who knows that we are interested in birds has to stop us on the street to tell about the “cunningest little nest, you know, with four of the cutest——” “Hold on,” we say; “were the eggs blue?” “Yes,” “With dots on them?” “Why, yes; how did you know?”

Incubation lasts only ten days and two broods are raised in each season. Chipping Sparrows are very devoted parents and the sitting female will sometimes allow herself to be taken in the hand. The male bird is not less sedulous in the care of the young, and he sometimes exercises a fatherly oversight of the first batch of babies, while his mate is preparing for the June crop.

No. 51. BREWER’S SPARROW.

A. O. U. No. 562. Spizella breweri Cassin.

Description.—_Adults_: Upperparts grayish brown, brightest brown on back, everywhere (save on remiges and rectrices) streaked with black or dusky, narrowly on crown, more broadly on back and scapulars, less distinctly on rump; wing-coverts and tertials varied by edgings of brownish buff; flight-feathers and rectrices dark grayish brown or dusky with some edging of light grayish brown; a broad pale buffy superciliary stripe scarcely contrasting with surroundings; underparts dull whitish tinged on sides and across breast by pale buffy gray. Bill pale brown darkening on tip and along culmen; feet pale brown, iris brown. _Young_ birds are less conspicuously streaked above; middle and greater coverts broadly tipped with buffy forming two distinct bands; breast streaked with dusky. Length 5.30 (1.35); wing 2.44 (62); tail 2.38 (60.5); bill .38 (8.8); tarsus .68 (17.4).

Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; general streaked appearance; _absence_ of distinguishing marks practically distinctive; sage-haunting habits.

Nesting.—_Nest_: of small twigs and dried grasses, lined with horse-hair, set loosely in sage-bush. _Eggs_: 4 or 5, greenish blue, dotted and spotted, sometimes in ring about larger end, with reddish brown. Av. size .67 × .49 (17 × 12.4). _Season_: April, June; two broods.

General Range.—Sage-brush plains of the West, breeding from Arizona to British Columbia and east to western Nebraska and western Texas; south in winter to Mexico and Lower California.

Range in Washington.—Open country of the East-side, abundant summer resident; occasionally invades Cascade Mountains (only in late summer?).

Migrations.—_Spring_: Yakima March 29, 1900.

Authorities.—[“Brewer’s sparrow,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884 (1885), 22]. Dawson, Auk, XIV, 1897, 178. D². Ss¹. Ss².

Specimens.—U. of W. P. C.

It is never quite fair to say that Nature produces a creature which harmonizes perfectly with its surroundings, for the moment we yield tribute of admiration to one creature, we discover amid the same circumstances another as nearly perfect but entirely different. When we consider the Sage Sparrow we think that Nature cannot improve much upon his soft grays by way of fitness for his desert environment; but when we come upon the Brewer Sparrow, we are ready to wager that here the dame has done her utmost to produce a bird of non-committal appearance. Mere brown might have been conspicuous by default, but brownish, broken up by hazy streakings of other brownish or dusky—call it what you will—has given us a bird which, so far as plumage is concerned, may be said to have no mark of distinction whatever—just bird.

The Sage Sparrow fits into the gray-green massy scheme of color harmony in the artemisia, while Brewer’s fits into the somber, brown-and-streaky scheme of its twigs and branches. To carry out the comparison, do not look for _breweri_ early in the season, when the breath of the rain rises from the ground and the air is astir: he is there, of course, but disregard him. Wait, rather, until the season is advanced, when the incomparable sun of Yakima has filled the sage-brush full to overflowing, and it begins to ooze out heat in drowsy, indolent waves. Then listen: _Weeeezzz, tubitubitubitubitub_, the first part an inspired trill, and the remainder an exquisitely modulated expirated trill in descending cadence. Instantly one conceives a great respect for this plain dot in feathers, whose very existence may have passed unnoticed before. The descending strain of the common song has, in some individuals, all the fine shading heard in certain imported canaries. Pitch is conceded by infinitesimal gradations, whereby the singer, from some heaven of fancy, brings us down gently to a topmost twig of earthly attainment. Nor does the song in other forms lack variety. In fact, a midday chorus of Brewer Sparrows is a treat which makes a tramp in the sage memorable.