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Bird -Lore 



In the author's extensive experience, the 

 Shrike has invariably attacked a House 

 Sparrow, and in every case, once the 

 Shrike has struck his blow, death has 

 been instantaneous. 



As the following notes, taken from my 

 journal, describe apparently unusual 

 occurrences, I submit them as a supple- 

 ment to Mr. Kelly's observations: 



"Jan. 27, 1910. This afternoon (2 p.m.) 

 I watched for five or ten minutes a Shrike 

 attempting to capture a Chickadee. My 

 attention was atracted by the Chickadee's 

 notes, si-si-si-si, dee, dee, dee, and I found 

 the bird hiding in an isolated red cedar 

 tree, while the Shrike was doing his best 

 to find him. The Chickadee made no 

 attempt to leave the tree, but kept moving 

 about, chiefly among the inner branches. 

 The Shrike followed his prey as best he 

 could through the network of fine twigs, 

 but often lost sight of it, evidently, and, 

 coming to an outside branch, sat quiet, 

 listening. 



"When hard pressed, the Chickadee 

 flew out and circled about the tree before 

 diving in among the branches again. 

 After these flights, sometimes he entered 

 the tree low down, and then mounted to 

 the very top by a series of short, rapid 

 hops; sometimes, after flying to the apex 

 of the tree, he passed downward to the 

 lowest branches before flying again. 

 Several times the Shrike hovered in the 

 air, and holding his body motionless and 

 upright, peered into the tree. Finally, 

 although not frightened away, the Shrike 

 gave up the chase." 



"Jan. 13, 1910. About noon today, I 

 came upon a Shrike in the act of killing 

 a House Sparrow. I was not near enough 

 to see clearly the details of the struggle, 

 but I made out with certainty that the 

 Shrike used his claws to hold the Sparrow 

 down on the snow, while with his beak he 

 struck or bit his prey on the head, and, 

 that when he flew, he carried the Sparrow, 

 still alive and shrieking, gripped in his 

 claws. As the two birds floundered on 

 the snow, the Shrike several times drew 

 his head upward and backward before 

 bringing it down on the Sparrow. This 



was perhaps to gain force, perhaps to look 

 about for danger. Although the Sparrow 

 was still alive, the Shrike carried him 

 easily to the branch of a tree. The struggle 

 was described to me as continued on the 

 ground until the Shrike was attacked by 

 two cats, when he flew off, carrying the 

 Sparrow with him." 



The cedar tree in which the Chickadee 

 eluded the Shrike's attack was not far 

 from the town center of Lexington, Mass., 

 the winter headquarters of the Sparrow. 

 My note, therefore, indicates that the 

 Shrike does not confine himself to the 

 extermination of the Sparrow pest even 

 in winter, when mice are not available, 

 and even where the Sparrow is the com- 

 monest bird. The struggle in the snow 

 instances a case in which the Shrike did 

 not have the usual easy mastery over the 

 Sparrow. Perhaps the blow, which Mr. 

 Kelly well terms a "buff," was not de- 

 livered; if it was delivered, it was not a 

 fatal one. In either case, the Shrike was 

 able to fight at close quarters, and this is a 

 method to which evidently he seldom has 

 to resort. — Winsor M. Tyler, Lexington, 

 Mass. 



The Northern Shrike 



On a cold, cloudy morning in February, 

 1907, while a flock of small birds, mostly 

 Juncos and Tree Sparrows, were break- 

 fasting on the feeding-ground near the 

 living-room window, a black-and-white 

 bird lit on the garden fence, about a 

 hundred yards away, and paused, waving 

 his tail in the manner peculiar to the 

 Shrike; then, swift as an arrow, he darted 

 into the midst of the small birds, seized 

 a Tree Sparrow and flew to the post of an 

 arbor, quite close to the window. He 

 carried the little bird in his beak by the 

 neck, its head dangling loose as though 

 its neck were dislocated; it was quite dead. 

 Then he flew to the flat top of a gate-post, 

 a little way off, and devoured it, appar- 

 ently feathers and all, as we could find 

 only a few wing- and tail-feathers on the 

 snow after he was gone. How he held it 

 we could not see, as some twigs intervened. 

 Twice I have found his butcher shop in 



