96 BIRDS OF THE ROCKIES 



ing a handsome picture as he stands on a weed-stalk or 

 a fence-post, his yellow jacket gleaming in the sun. He 

 is the possessor of a clear, musical voice, and if he had 

 the vocal organs of some of the oscines, he certainly would 

 be one of the best feathered lyrists of America. Un- 

 fortunately he is able to do nothing but chirp and 

 chatter, although he puts not a little music into his 

 simple vocal exercises. 



It was surprising to note on how slender a weed-stalk 

 so large a bird was able to perch. There being few trees 

 and fences in this region, he has doubtless gained ex- 

 pertness through practice in the art of securing a foot- 

 hold on the tops of the weed-stems. Some of the weeds 

 on which he stood with perfect ease and grace were ex- 

 tremely lithe and flexible and almost devoid of branches. 

 But what was the cause of this particular bird's in- 

 tense solicitude ? It was obvious there was a nest in the 

 neighborhood. As I sought in the grass and weed- 

 clumps, he uttered his piercing calls of protest and 

 circled and hovered overhead like a red-winged black- 

 bird. Suddenly the thought occurred to me that the 

 flycatchers of my acquaintance do not nest on the 

 ground, but on trees. I looked around, and, sure 

 enough, in the shallow hollow below me stood a soli- 

 tary willow tree not more than fifteen or twenty feet 

 high, the only tree to be seen within a mile. And that 

 lone tree on the plain was occupied by the flycatcher 



