GRAY JAY 31 



There are a nest and three eggs of the gray jay, formerly in the col- 

 lection of J. H. Bowles, now in the Ferry Museum of the Washington 

 State Historical Society in Tacoma. W. P. Bonney writes to me that it 

 was collected in Deschutes County, Oreg., but no date is given. He says 

 that the nest "is about 6 inches in diameter, well built from few small 

 sticks, some fiber, grasses, soft moss, some feathers and scraps of wool. 

 The eggs are dingy gray, with small brown spots scattered all over." 



Food. — Dawson and Bov/les (1909) say: "Hunger is the chief char- 

 acteristic of these docile birds, and no potential food is refused, nuts, 

 acorns, insects, berries, or even, as a last resort, the buds of trees. Meat 

 of any sort has an especial attraction to them; and they are the despair 

 of the trapper because of their propensity for stealing bait." 



Food taken from campers is mentioned by Taylor and Shaw (1927) 

 under behavior, but they also add : 



When food is scarce the camp robbers sometimes visit the garbage pile. They 

 are fond of dead mice, often stripping off the skin before eating them. Fresh 

 meat of any kind is relished also. Ben Longmire found a nest of young juncos 

 on a small tree that had been cut down to make way for a new trail. He 

 removed the nest with the young birds to another tree in plain sight so that 

 the parent birds could find the young. The camp robbers carried off the young 

 birds and devoured them. In some localities they are said to be called butcher 

 birds. 



Behavior. — Taylor and Shaw (1927) write of the habits of this jay in 

 Mount Rainier National Park : 



The vocal versatility and freedom from shyness of the gray jay, together with 

 his occurrence in the deep woods where other birds are scarce, help to sustain 

 his reputation as one of the park's most interesting bird citizens. The bird is 

 likely to be heard, first, in the upper branches of the firs or hemlocks at some 

 little distance. In a moment, perchance, a wisp of gray smoke seems to float 

 into camp and there is the saucy whiskey jack, very quiet now, perched on a 

 branch of the tree to which the camp table is nailed, and not 6 feet from where 

 you are sitting. Cocking his bright eye at you in a knowing maimer, he scans 

 you with much circumspection. Then down he drops, as likely as not, right onto 

 the table, and before you know it has seized a piece of butter from a plate at 

 arm's length and made off with it ! * * ♦ By this time three or four more of the 

 birds are waiting for a turn. Scraps of meat, bacon rind, bread, potatoes, butter, 

 oatmeal, or almost any other foods are prized. When one breaks camp a 

 company of four or six gray jays is usually on hand, patiently waiting to pick up 

 any scraps which may be left over. Sometimes, but not often, the birds are 

 shy. * * * 



They are very jealous and have many a severe family fight. As a rule no 

 two camp robbers will eat out of the same dish, though at other times friendly 

 enough. They do not like to have the chipmunks too close to their food supply, 

 either, and often combine forces to drive them away. The Steller jay and varied 

 thrush are admitted to their company on equal footing, but woe be to the owl 

 or the hawk that invades their preserves. 



