Part 46

General Range.—Northern and eastern North America, west to the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains and Alaska. Occasional on the Pacific slope from California northward. Accidental in Europe.

Range in Washington.—Casual during migrations—a straggler from Alaska.

Authorities.—Dawson, Auk, Vol. XXV., Oct. 1908, p. 484.

Specimens.—Prov. E.

The true Yellow-shafted Flicker, the familiar bird of the Eastern States, is occasionally taken as a straggler during the fall migrations. Mr. D. E. Brown took a typical specimen at Glacier, in 1904, and Mr. Victor Savings, of Blaine, has shot one and seen several others. A specimen in Mr. Rathbun’s collection was taken by Mr. Matt. H. Gormley, on Orcas Island, October 15, 1903. The bird is a male and is typical save for the faintest possible tinge of salmon in the yellow, which marks him as a border-line specimen, probably a British Columbian bird which did not deflect eastward sufficiently in the autumn retreat.

According to Nelson, this bird is abundantly distributed thruout the timbered portions of Alaska, west even to the neighborhood of Bering Straits, and it is only surprising that so few of them come straight south to winter.

Upon the eastern borders of the range of _C. cafer_, viz., upon the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains in British Columbia, Idaho, Montana, and southward, specimens showing mixed characters of _cafer_ and _auratus_ are found—in such numbers, indeed, that they were formerly given a distinctive name, _Colaptes hybridus_ Baird. This half-breed stock is perhaps the most interesting example of hybridization in American ornithology, presenting, as it does, not the familiar border-line of types being differentiated by varying environment, but the re-amalgamation of related types, differentiated ages ago from a common stock, presumably in Mexico.

No. 178. RED-SHAFTED FLICKER.

A. O. U. No. 413. Colaptes mexicanus collaris (Vigors).

Synonyms.—Red-winged Woodpecker. High-holder. “Yellow-hammer.” Pigeon Woodpecker.

Description.—_Adult male_: Similar to _C. auratus luteus_, but yellow of feather-shafts, etc., replaced by orange-vermillion; cast of upper plumage correspondingly reddish (very faintly, a mere vinaceous tinge to the brown); no scarlet nuchal patch; a broad malar stripe of scarlet (replacing the black stripe of _C. a. luteus_); sides of head and throat clear bluish ash; underparts tinged with lilaceous. _Adult female_: Like male but scarlet malar stripe replaced by brown. Between this and _Colaptes auratus luteus_ every form of gradation exists. Hybrids (for such they really are) most frequently reveal themselves by the presence of three scarlet patches (in the male), i. e., two malar and one nuchal. Length: averaging larger than _C. a. luteus_, up to 14.00 (355.6); wing 6.90 (175.3); tail 5.00 (127); bill 1.50 (38.1).

Recognition Marks.—Little Hawk size; brown finely barred with black above; underparts heavily spotted with black; flame-color of under wing surface prominent in flight; scarlet malar stripe of male distinctive; lighter than succeeding.

Nesting.—Much as in _C. a. luteus_, and eggs indistinguishable. For nesting sites makes use of wooden buildings or earth-banks in default of trees. _Season_: May; one brood, rarely two.

General Range.—Western United States and British Columbia from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific and south into northern Mexico, giving place to succeeding form on northwest coast slopes, to C. chrysoides in extreme southwest, and hybridizing with _C. auratus luteus_ in northeastern and northern portion of range.

Range in Washington.—East-side, common summer resident and migrant, found to timber-line in the Cascades, where shading into next; partially resident in winter.

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.