102 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



The White-Rumped Shrike. 



BY H. TULLSEN, KNOXVILEE, TENN. 



In winter, in southwestern South 

 Dakota, the white-rumped shrike, or 

 butcher-bird, (Lanius ludovicianus ex- 

 cubitorides) is seldom seen, but 

 throughout the broader creek — and 

 river valleys where trees and shrubs 

 abound he is apt to be common enough 

 in summer. 



In the valley of Grass Creek on the 

 Pine Ridge Indian reservation, I made 

 observations on the nidification of this 

 bird in 1905. About May 15 I noticed 

 a pair of shrikes at work carrying 

 nest material. On May 22 I found 

 their nest — nearly finished. It was in 

 a willow tree near the brook, about 

 nine feet from the ground, and was sit- 

 uated amid a thick tangle of twigs and 

 branches. The bird that was working 

 at the structure slipped away so quiet- 

 ly that, had I not seen her at the first, 

 any sound she might have made could 

 not have called my attention to her. 

 Beginning May 26 a rain set in, 

 lasting for four days, and on the 

 29th, when the storm ended, the nest 

 was thoroughly soaked. The birds 

 had now abandoned it, for on June 6 

 I found a new nest, built by the same 

 pair, with one egg in it. This domicile 

 was destroyed by marauding Indian 

 boys on June 8. By June 11 these de- 

 voted birds had nearly completed a 

 third nest a short distance from the 

 second : both these last were also in 

 willows. After the first nest had been 

 abandoned I pulled it apart and ex- 

 amined it. The foundation was of 

 coarse sticks ; next came soft plants, 

 chiefly wormwood (Artemisia), with 

 feathers and strings, all closely and 

 firmly matted together; then, still pro- 

 ceeding inward and upward, came fi- 

 bers, bark shreds, and cotton — consti- 

 tuting the lining of the nest. While 

 the third nest was in process of con- 

 struction I saw one of the birds perch 

 upon the old stalk of a great ragweed 

 and pull away the soft, shreddy bark ; 

 at another time I saw it tearing in 

 pieces a quantity of cotton from an 

 old quilt. 



The pair worked late — until after 

 sundown. I think that they took the 

 softer material from the first nest to 



help build the second, as this portion of 

 the former disappeared. When I tore this 

 original nest asunder I found it damp 

 and moldy, even after several days of 

 hot, dry weather, and there is no 

 wonder that the birds deserted it. 

 Ever and anon, during the day, one 

 or the other of the pair would alight 

 on a tall flag-pole to take a look over 

 the adjacent country. After a time 

 they became rather tame. 



On June 13 the third nest contained 

 one egg ; on June 14, two eggs ; on June 

 15, three eggs; when next visited, June 

 18, five eggs; and on June 19, six eggs. 

 The next time I came, on July 8, this 

 nest still containing the six eggs, was 

 deserted, no birds being seen near it, 

 nor did they return, although they still 

 tarried in the vicinity. 



On June 18 I had found another 

 shrikes' nest, in a willow that "grows 

 aslant a brook." It contained four 

 voung, just hatched. They were naked, 

 and yellow, and blind. I saw them 

 again on the next day. The old bird 

 was brooding them on both occasions. 

 On June 21 the little birds were still 

 unable to see, and the yellow of their 

 skins was taking on a greenish tinge. 

 The old bird, the mother I suppose, 

 approached very near while I was peer- 

 ing into the nest, and made a snapping 

 sound with her bill. On June 23 the 

 nestlings had their eyes pretty well 

 ooened. June 25, when I called again 

 at the nest, it was empty. The Sioux 

 were not the culprits this time. They 

 could have easily proved an alibi, for 

 like the Arabs all had folded their tents 

 and silently stolen away — to the site 

 of a prospective Fourth of July cele- 

 bration, miles away. No doubt the 

 magpies were to blame. It was but 

 another trasfedv of the nests. 



An Odd Nesting Site. 



BY HENRY E. PULLEN, VICTORIA, B. C. 



It is wonderful how quickly the birds 

 adapt themselves to life in a city. An 

 old rusty tomato can had been thrown 

 out on to a vacant lot in the heart of 

 Victoria city. Two little white crown- 

 ed sparrows found it and at once re- 

 cognized its suitability for their purpose. 

 Usually these sparrows make their 

 nest on the ground under bushes or 



