WESTERN BIRDS Titmouse 



gray, which becomes lighter below. He is just a dull 

 little fellow whose identity is saved by his tall, sharp- 

 pointed crest, which distinguishes him from every other 

 feathered thing. 



His common call reminds one of that of the Chick- 

 adee, but is louder and has a more metallic ring. Tsee- 

 day-day, day-day, day or just tsee-day-day, the bird 

 calls as he inspects your pepper tree, perhaps only a few 

 feet from where you are standing. It makes no differ- 

 ence to him that you are watching his every move just 

 so there are juicy tidbits to be extracted from crevice or 

 limb. The bird has several other calls: one is a tee-wit, 

 tee-wit, and another sounds almost like a yodel. Some- 

 times the notes have a squeaky sound as if the throat 

 needed oiling. 



In the mountains they are known as camj) birds from 

 their friendly habit of coming about and making them- 

 selves thoroughly at home. When the dining-room is in 

 the open, they fearlessly come down onto, and under, the 

 table in search of crumbs; also going into the tents, and 

 in no way minding the presence of the human occupants. 



One fall I watched two of these Titmice foraging in 

 the white oaks of the Sierra Nevadas at about 3,500 feet 

 elevation. The acorns were small and green, being about 

 the size of my little-finger tip. It was amusing to see 

 the birds go out to the very end of a tiny branch in 

 search of these acorns which they picked away at until 

 they could get at the meat, which they ate. As they 

 foraged they kept up their metallic see-day-day, day- 

 day, day. 



Unlike their relatives, the Chickadees, they do not go 

 in flocks, but rather in pairs, or singly. Their nests are 

 made of various soft material tucked away in some de- 

 serted hole in tree or stump, from five to eight white 

 eggs being laid. The young are dear little replicas of 

 their parents. 



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