Part 33

For nesting sites the Wrens avail themselves of cubby-holes and crannies in upturned roots or fallen logs, and fire-holes in half-burned stumps. A favorite situation is one of the crevices which occur in a large fir tree when it falls and splits open. Or the nest is sometimes found under the bark of a decaying log, or in a crevice of earth in an unused mine-shaft. If the site selected has a wide entrance, this is walled up by the nesting material and only a smooth round aperture an inch and a quarter in diameter is left to admit to the nest proper. In default of any such shelter, birds have been known to construct their nests at the center of some baby fir, or in the drooping branches of a fir tree at a height of a foot or more from the ground. In such case, the nest is finished to the shape of a cocoanut, with an entrance hole in the side a little above the center.

In all cases the materials used are substantially the same, chiefly green moss, with an abundance of fir or cedar twigs shot thru its walls and foundations. This shell is heavily lined with very fine mosses, intermingled with deer hair or other soft substances; while the inner lining is of feathers, which the Sooty and the Ruffed Grouse have largely contributed to the upholstered luxury of this model home.

“Cocks’ nests,” or decoys, are the favorite diversion of this indefatigable bird, so that, as with the restless activities of four-year-old children, one sighs to think of the prodigious waste of energies entailed. The aboriginal cause of this quaint instinct, so prevalent among the Wrens, would seem to be the desire to deceive and discourage enemies, but in the case of the Winter Wren one is led to suspect that the hard-working husband is trying to meet a perpetual challenge to occupy all available sites—a miser hoarding opportunities. A troop of young Wrens just out of the nest is a cunning sight. The anxious parents counsel flight and the more circumspect of the brood obey, but now and then one less sophisticated allows a little pleasant talk, “blarney,” to quiet his beating heart. Then a little titillation of the crown feathers will quite win him over, so that he will accept a gently insistent finger in place of the twig which has been his support. The unfaltering trust of childhood has subdued many a savage heart, but when it is exemplified in a baby Wren one feels the ultimate appeal to tenderness.

Mr. Brown, of Glacier, coming upon an old Russet-backed Thrush nest at dusk, thrust an exploratory finger over its brim. Judge of his surprise when out swarmed seven young Winter Wrens. Mr. Brown feels reasonably sure, however, that the birds were hatched elsewhere, and that they were only roosting temporarily in the larger nest, in view of its ampler accommodations.

No. 121. ROCK WREN.

A. O. U. No. 715. Salpinctes obsoletus (Say).

Description.—_Adults_: Above brownish gray changing on rump to cinnamon-brown, most of the surface speckled by arrow-shaped marks containing, or contiguous to, rounded spots of whitish; wing-quills color of back, barred with dusky on outer webs; middle pair of tail-feathers color of back barred with dusky; remaining rectrices barred with dusky on outer webs only, each with broad subterminal bar of blackish and tipped broadly with cinnamon-buff area varied by dusky marbling; outermost pair broadly blackish- and cinnamon-barred on both webs; a superciliary stripe of whitish; a broad post-ocular stripe of grayish brown; sides of head and underparts dull white shading into pale cinnamon or vinaceous buff on flanks and under tail-coverts; sides of head, throat and upper breast spotted, mottled or streaked obscurely with grayish brown or dusky; under tail-coverts barred or transversely spotted with dusky. Bill dark horn-color above, paling below; feet and legs brownish dusky; iris brown. _Young birds_ are more or less barred or vermiculated above, without white speckling, and are unmarked below. Length: 5.50-6.00 (139.7-152.4); wing 2.76 (70); tail 2.09 (53); bill .70 (17.7); tarsus .83 (21).

Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; variegated tail with broad buffy tips distinctive; rock-haunting habits.

Nesting.—_Nest_: in crannies of cliffs, of twigs, grasses, wool, hair and other soft substances, approached by runway of rock-chips or pebbles. _Eggs_: 5-7, white or pinkish white, sprinkled somewhat sparingly with pale cinnamon, chiefly about larger end. Av. size .73 × .56 (18.5 × 14.2). _Season_: May 1st to June 20th; two broods.

General Range.—Western United States, northern and central Mexico, and southern British Columbia, chiefly in hilly districts; eastward across Great Plains to Kansas, Nebraska, etc.; retires from northern portion of range in winter.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident and migrant in open country east of the Cascades, chiefly confined to cliffs of Columbian lava; casual west of the Cascades.

Authorities.—[“Rock wren,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884 (1885), p. 22.] Lawrence, Auk, IX. 1892, 47, 357. T. L¹. D¹. D². Ss¹. Ss². Kk.

Specimens.—P. C.

“But Barrenness, Loneliness, such-like things, That gall and grate on the White Man’s nerves, Was the rangers that camped by the bitter springs And guarded the lines of God’s reserves. So the folks all shy from the desert land, ’Cept mebbe a few that kin understand.”—_Clark._

A discerning soul is _Salpinctes_. He loves beyond all else the uplifted ramparts of basalt, the bare lean battlements of the wilderness. They are the walls of a sanctuary, where he is both verger and choir master, while upon the scarred altars which they shelter, his faithful spouse has a place “where she may lay her young.”

The Rock Wren is nestled among the most impressive surroundings, but there is nothing subdued or melancholy about his bearing. Indeed, he has taken a commission to wake the old hills and to keep the shades of eld from brooding too heavily upon them. His song is, therefore, one of the sprightliest, most musical, and resonant to be heard in the entire West. The rock-wall makes an admirable sounding-board, and the bird stops midway of whatever task to sing a hymn of wildest exultation. _Whittier, whittier, whittier_, is one of his finest strains; while _ka-whee, ka-whee, ka-whee_ is a sort of challenge which the bird renders in various tempo, and punctuates with nervous bobs to enforce attention. For the rest his notes are too varied, spontaneous, and untrammeled to admit of precise description.

Save in the vicinity of his nest, the Rock Wren is rather an elusive sprite. If you clamber to his haunts he will remove, as matter of course, a hundred yards along the cliff; or he will flit across the couleé with a nonchalance which discourages further effort. Left to himself, however, he may whimsically return—near enough perhaps for you to catch the click, click of his tiny claws as he goes over the lava blocks, poking into crevices after spiders here, nibbling larvæ in vapor holes there, or scaling sheer heights yonder, without a thought of vertigo.

At nesting time the cliffs present a thousand chinks and hidey-holes, any one of which would do to put a nest in. The collector is likely to be dismayed at the wealth of possibilities before him, and the birds themselves appear to regret that they must make choice of a single cranny, for they “fix up” half a dozen of the likeliest. And when it comes to lining the approaches of the chosen cavity, what do you suppose they use? Why, rocks, of course; not large ones this time, but flakes and pebbles of basalt, which rattle pleasantly every time the bird goes in and out. These rock chips are sometimes an inch or more in diameter, and it is difficult to conceive how a bird with such a delicate beak can compass their removal. Here they are, however, to the quantity of half a pint or more, and they are just as much a necessity to every well-regulated Salpinctean household, as marble steps are to Philadelphians.

The nest itself is rather a bulky affair, composed of weed-stalks, dried grasses, and fine rootlets, with a scanty lining of hair or wool (all East-side birds are enthusiastic advocates of sheep-raising). “Two broods are raised in a season, the first set of eggs appearing early in May, the second about the middle of June. It is possible that even a third set may sometimes be laid still later in the season, but these late sets are more apt to be due to the breaking up of the first or second. The eggs vary from five to seven, and are pure white in color, sprinkled rather sparingly over the surface with dots of a faint brownish red, most heavily about the larger end” (Bowles).

Failing a suitable cliff-house—not all walls are built to Wrens’ orders—the birds resort to a rock-slide and the possibilities here are infinite. After I had seen a devoted pair disappear behind a certain small rock no less than a dozen times, and had heard responsive notes in different keys, a chittering which reminded one of baby Katydids, I thought I had a cinch on the nest. The crevices of the rocks here and there were crammed with dried grass and stuff which might fairly be considered superfluous nesting material, and the young birds were too young to have traveled far; but as for the actual cradle I could not find it, and I cannot certify that the wrenlets were hatched within seven rods. The little fellows were as shy as conies, but their parents, curiously enough, took my researches good naturedly. One of them came within two feet of my face and peered intently at me as I sat motionless; and even after some square yards of the rock slide had been violently disarranged, they did not hesitate to visit their clamoring brood as tho nothing had happened. Did they trust the man or the rocks rather?

No. 122. CANYON WREN.

A. O. U. No. 717 a. Catherpes mexicanus conspersus Ridgw.

Synonyms.—Canon Wren. Speckled Canon Wren.

Description.—_Adult_: “Upperparts brown, paler and grayer anteriorly, behind shading insensibly into rich rufous, everywhere dotted with small dusky and whitish spots. Tail clear cinnamon-brown, crossed with numerous very narrow and mostly zigzag black bars. Wing-quills dark brown, outer webs of primaries and both webs of inner secondaries barred with color of back. Chin, throat, and fore breast, with lower half of side of head and neck, pure white, shading behind through ochraceous-brown into rich deep ferruginous, and posteriorly obsoletely waved with dusky and whitish. Bill slate-colored, paler and more livid below; feet black; iris brown” (Coues). Length about 5.50 (139.7); wing 2.35 (59.7); tail 2.06 (52.4); bill .81 (20.5); tarsus .71 (18.1). Female a little smaller.

Recognition Marks.—Warbler size, rock-haunting habits; rich rusty red of hinder underparts; tail finely barred with black, its feathers without buffy tips as distinguished from _Salpinctes obsoletus_.

Nesting.—Not known to nest in Washington but probably does so. _Nest_ and _eggs_ indistinguishable from those of the Rock Wren.

General Range.—Central arid districts of the western United States and southern British Columbia from Wyoming and Colorado west to northeastern California and south to Arizona.

Range in Washington.—Reported from Palouse country only,—is probably extending range into Upper Sonoran and Arid Transition zones of eastern Washington.

Authorities.—_C. mexicanus punctulatus_, Snodgrass, Auk. Vol. XXI. Apr. 1904, p. 232. J.

Specimens.—P.

To Mr. Robert E. Snodgrass belongs the honor of first reporting this species as a bird of Washington. He encountered it in the Snake River Cañon at Almota in the summer of 1903, and mentions that it occurred also at Wawawai Ferry, a few miles up the river. Roswell H. Johnson also refers to it casually in the preface to his list of the birds of Cheney[47] as occurring “where conditions were favorable to the south and east.”

It has long been supposed that the Cañon Wrens were confined to a much more southern range. Ridgway[48] assigns the northern limits of this species to Wyoming and Nevada. Its appearance in Washington, therefore, is matter of congratulation and may, perhaps, be taken as an instance of that _northward trend of species_ which undoubtedly affects many of the Passerine forms, and none more notably than the Wrens.

The Cañon Wren frequents much the same situations as the Rock Wren and has the same sprightly ways. In the southern part of its range it is said to be a familiar resident of towns, and nests as frequently in crannies and bird-boxes as does our House Wren (_Troglodytes aedon parkmanii_). Its alarm note is a “peculiarly ringing _dink_,” and its song is said to excel, if possible, that of the House Wren. “What joyous notes! * * * His song comes tripping down the scale growing so fast it seems as if the songster could only stop by giving his odd little flourish back up the scale again at the end. The ordinary song has seven descending notes, but often, as if out of pure exuberance of happiness, the Wren begins with a run of grace notes, ending with the same little flourish. The rare character of the song is its rhapsody and the rich vibrant quality which has suggested the name of bugler for him—and a glorious little bugler he surely is” (Mrs. Bailey).

_Mimidæ_—The Mockingbirds

No. 123. SAGE THRASHER.

A. O. U. No. 702. Oroscoptes montanus Townsend.

Synonyms.—Sage Mocker. Mountain Mocking-bird (early name—inapropos).

Description.—_Adults_: General plumage ashy brown, lighter below; above grayish- or ashy-brown, the feathers, especially on crown, streaked mesially with darker brown; wings and tail dark grayish brown with paler edgings; middle and greater coverts narrowly tipped with whitish, producing two dull bars; outer rectrices broadly tipped with white, decreasing in area, till vanishing on central pair; lores grayish; a pale superciliary line; cheeks brownish varied by white; underparts whitish tinged with buffy brown, most strongly on flanks and crissum, everywhere (save, usually, on throat, lower belly, and under tail-coverts) streaked with dusky, the streaks tending to confluence along side of throat, sharply distinguished and wedge-shaped on breast, where also heaviest; bill blackish paling on mandible; legs and feet dusky brownish, the latter with yellow soles; iris lemon-yellow. _Young_ birds are browner and more decidedly streaked above; less distinctly streaked below. Length about 8.00 (203); wing 3.82 (97); tail 3.54 (90); bill .65 (16.4); tarsus 1.20 (30.5).

Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; ashy-brown plumage appearing nearly uniform at distance; sage-haunting habits; impetuous song.

Nesting.—_Nest_, a substantial structure of thorny twigs (_Sarcobatus_ preferred), usually slightly domed, with a heavy inner cup of fine bark (sage) strips, placed without attempt at concealment in sage-bush or greasewood. _Eggs_, 4 or 5, rich, dark, bluish green, heavily spotted or blotched with rich rufous and “egg-gray”—among the handsomest. Av. size, .98 × .71 (24.9 × 18). _Season_: May 1-June 15; two (?) broods.

General Range.—Western United States from western part of the Great Plains (western South Dakota, western Nebraska, and eastern Colorado) north to Montana, west to the Cascades and Sierra Nevada, south into New Mexico, Lower California, and, casually, to Guadalupe Island.

Range in Washington.—Treeless portions of East-side; summer resident.

Authorities.—[“Sage Thrasher,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884 (1885), p. 22.] Dawson, Wilson Bulletin, No. 39, June, 1902, p. 67. (T). D². Ss¹. Ss².

Specimens.—U. of W. P. C.

It takes a poet to appreciate the desert. Those people who affect to despise the sage are the same to whom stones are stones instead of compacted histories of the world’s youth, and clouds are clouds instead of legions of angels. It is no mark of genius then to despise common things. The desert has cradled more of the world’s good men and great than ever were coddled in king’s palaces. Whistler used to paint “symphonies in gray” and men held back questioning, “Er—is this art?” A few, bolder than their fellows, pronounced favorably upon it, and it is allowable now to admit that Whistler was a great artist—that is, a great discoverer and revealer of Nature.

Nature has painted upon our eastern hills a symphony in gray greens, a canvas of artemisia, simple, ample, insistent. And still the people stand before it hesitating—it is so common—is it considered beautiful, pray? Well, at least a bird thinks so, a bird whose whole life has been spent in the sage. Listen! The hour is sunrise. As we face the east, heavy shadows still huddle about us and blend with the ill-defined realities. The stretching sage-tops tremble with oblation before the expectant sun. The pale dews are taking counsel for flight, but the opalescent haze, pregnant with sunfire, yet tender with cool greens and subtle azures, hovers over the altar waiting the concomitance of the morning hymn before ascent. Suddenly, from a distant sage-bush bursts a geyser of song, a torrent of tuneful waters, gushing, as it would seem, from the bowels of the wilderness in an ecstacy of greeting and gratitude and praise. It is from the throat of the Sage Thrasher, poet of the bitter weed, that the tumult comes. Himself but a gray shadow, scarce visible in the early light, he pours out his soul and the soul of the sage in a rhapsody of holy joy. Impetuous, impassioned, compelling, rises this matchless music of the desert. To the silence of the gray-green canvas, beautiful but incomplete, has come the throb and thrill of life,—life brimful, delirious, exultant. The freshness and the gladness of it touch the soul as with a magic. The heart of the listener glows, his veins tingle, his face beams. He cannot wait to analyze. He must dance and shout for joy. The wine of the wilderness is henceforth in his veins, and drunk with ecstacy he reels across the enchanted scene forever more.

And all this inspiration the bird draws from common sage and the rising of the common sun. How does he do it? I do not know. Ask Homer, Milton, Keats.

No. 124. CATBIRD.

A. O. U. No. 704. Dumetella carolinensis (Linn.).

Description.—_Adult_: Slate-color, lightening almost imperceptibly below; black on top of head and on tail; under tail-coverts chestnut, sometimes spotted with slaty; bill and feet black. Length 8.00-9.35 (203.2-237.5); wing 3.59 (91.2); tail 3.65 (92.7); bill .62 (15.8).

Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; almost uniform slaty coloration with thicket-haunting habits distinctive; lithe and slender as compared with Water Ouzel.

Nesting.—_Nest_, of twigs, weed-stalks, vegetable fibers, and trash, carefully lined with fine rootlets, placed at indifferent heights in bushes or thickets. _Eggs_, 4-5, deep emerald-green, glossy. Av. size, .95 × .69 (24.1 × 17.5). _Season_, first two weeks in June; one brood.

General Range.—Eastern United States and British Provinces, west regularly to and including the Rocky Mountains, irregularly to the Pacific Coast from British Columbia to central California. Breeds from the Gulf States northward to the Saskatchewan. Winters in the southern states, Cuba, and middle America to Panama. Bermuda, resident. Accidental in Europe.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident; not uncommon but locally distributed in eastern and especially northeastern Washington; penetrates deepest mountain valleys on eastern slope of Cascades, and is regularly established in certain West-side valleys connected by low passes. Casual at Seattle, and elsewhere at sea-level.

Authorities.—_Galeoscoptes carolinensis_, Belding, Land Birds of the Pacific District (1890), p. 226 (Walla Walla by J. W. Williams, 1885). D¹. Ss¹. Ss². J.

Specimens.—U. of W. Prov. P. C.

Those who hold either a good or a bad opinion of the Catbird are one-sided in their judgment. Two, and not less than two, opinions are possible of one and the same bird. He is both imp and angel, a “feathered Mephistopheles” and “a heavenly singer.” But this is far from saying that the bird lives a double life in the sense ordinarily understood, for in the same minute he is grave, gay, pensive and clownish. Nature made him both a wag and a poet, and it is no wonder if the roguishness and high philosophy become inextricably entangled. One moment he steps forth before you as sleek as Beau Brummel, graceful, polished, equal-eyed; then he cocks his head to one side and squints at you like a thief; next he hangs his head, droops wings and tail, and looks like a dog being lectured for killing sheep;—Presto, change! the bird pulls himself up to an extravagant height and with exaggerated gruffness, croaks out, “Who are you?” Then without waiting for an answer to his impudent question, the rascal sneaks off thru the bushes, hugging every feather close to his body, delivering a running fire of cat-calls, squawks, and expressions of contempt. There is no accounting for him; he is an irrepressible—and a genius.

The Catbird is not common in Washington, save in the northeastern portion of the State, where it is well established. Miss Jennie V. Getty finds them regularly at North Bend, and there is a Seattle record; so that there is reason to believe that the Catbird is one of those few species which are extending their range by encroachment from neighboring territory. There can be no question that civilization is conducive to the bird’s welfare, primarily by increasing the quantity of its cover on the East-side, and, possibly, by reducing it on the West. Catbirds, when at home, are found in thickets and in loose shrubbery. River-banks are lined with them, and chaparral-covered hillsides have their share; but they also display a decided preference for the vicinage of man, and, if allowed to, will frequent the orchards and the raspberry bushes. They help themselves pretty freely to the fruit of the latter, but their services in insect-eating compensate for their keep, a hundred-fold. Nests are placed almost anywhere at moderate heights, but thickety places are preferred, and the wild rosebush is acknowledged to be the ideal spot. The birds exhibit the greatest distress when their nest is disturbed, and the entire neighborhood is aroused to expressions of sympathy by their pitiful cries.