WESTERN ROBIN 61 



Voice. — The song of the western robin is evidently no different from 

 that of its eastern relative, but the song period seems to be of somewhat 

 shorter duration. Mr. Rathbun writes to me: "By about the middle 

 of July the robin no longer sings near the close of day, except on rare 

 occasions. And this evening song began to shorten in the latter part 

 of June. It commences to come into full song early in March, but 

 snatches of song are given on sunny days in February." Mr. Saunders 

 (MS.) says that his notes show that the period of song in Montana is 

 shorter than in the East, "the birds beginning to sing early in April, 

 or the last few days of March, and ceasing to sing late in July, rather 

 than August." 



Enemies. — J. K. Jensen (1925) saw young robins robbed of the their 

 food and tells this story about it: 



During the latter half of May, 1925 a pair of Robins built a nest in a locust tree 

 in front of my house. Four eggs were laid and in due season four young appeared. 

 The parent birds have since been busy feeding the young. A pair of English 

 Sparrows discovered the Robin's nest and saw the process of feeding. Now for 

 about two weeks the Sparrows have been watching the Robins closely, and when- 

 ever one of them flies down on the lawn in search of food for the young the Spar- 

 rows will follow it. As soon as the Robin captures a grasshopper or a worm and 

 flies to the nest, the Sparrows will follow and alight on the rim opposite the Robin. 

 As soon as the Robin has placed the food in the open bill of one of the youngsters, 

 one of the Sparrows reaches over and pulls the food out and flies away to a quiet 

 place to devour it. 



Jays are among the worst enemies of robins, as well as of other 

 birds, as they craftily and persistently rob the nests of eggs or young. 

 Susan M. Kane (1924) gives the following account of a spirited battle 

 in which the jay was the loser: 



For several days a Steller's Jay had been pestering a Robin sitting on her 

 nest in a bush against the corner of the house. The nest was in full view of a 

 window at which I often worked. The Jay had employed every ruse to get the 

 bird's eggs. He watched for her absence; slipped upon her to frighten her off; 

 sounded alarms; engaged the male in skirmishes. These were but a few of his 

 pernicious tactics to further his aims. I missed his final move but the Robin 

 did not. There was a cry of distress from the Robin and when I looked up the 

 Jay's toes were already in the air and contracting. The Robin had made a 

 master thrust. Its beak had penetrated the Jay's head in a vulnerable spot, 

 causing instant death. 



But death for the villain did not satisfy the Robin. She shrilled for her mate 

 again and again as repeatedly she pounced upon the fallen bird and pommeled 

 him with beak and claw. The mate must have been gallivanting about the 

 country for it seemed every other bird on the campus was at the scene before he 

 arrived. When he did come it was in hot haste and with wild cries. He leaped 

 into the fray. At times the birds fought by leaping into the air striking with 

 beak and wing and pouncing with feet as a barn-yard cock fights. More often 

 the attack was made from low branches of trees to which they flew and then 

 struck with a flying dash. The battleground was sloping. Up and down the 



