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TEE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 



small birds. Moljbing hawks seems to 

 be a favorite amusement. If the hawk 

 is big and clumsy, so much the better. 

 But it is the breeding habits chiefly 

 that make the nutcracker interesting. 

 February is the height of winter in the 

 Yellowstone, the nights are intensely 

 cold, and the snow still lies deep every- 

 where. Yet the nutcrackers mate then 

 and build a nest of cedar twigs and 

 such straws as can be found above the 

 snow. Frequently the eggs are laid 

 during the last days of February and 

 brooding begins immediately. I have 

 seen the mother on the nest when the 

 thermometer was below zero, and at 

 other times during a raging blizzard. 

 The young birds are out of the nest and 

 flying about by May first, before most 

 other birds have begun to nest. 



It is the Rocky Mountain jay that is 

 beloved of the camper. This bird, 

 known as the "camp robber," although 

 he scavenges rather than robs, is closely 

 related to the nutcracker. He bears a 

 superficial resemblance to that bird, but 

 is smaller, of a gray color without the 

 black and white markings of the other, 

 and his calls are different. The "camp 

 robber" is bold and fearless without the 

 impudent, noisy ways and pugnacious 

 proclivities of the nutcracker. At camp 

 he is always about, always getting into 

 trouble, and always trying to share the 

 camper's good things with him. He 

 claims his share, perhaps because he is 

 socialistic and believes the camper 

 should divide his goods. If the camper 

 is hard-hearted, or even slow, the jay 

 will tell him all about how hungry he 

 is, how scarce food is, how "high the 

 cost of living" is getting, and end his 

 appeal in the most coaxing, wheedling 

 tones imaginable. Hard-hearted, indeed, 

 is he who can resist this daring little 

 beggar. He is into everything, he 

 knows no fear. It is not safe to take a 



pot or a pan off the fire and set it down 

 to cool — the "camp robber" is watching 

 for just such chances. But he more 

 than makes up for the crumbs and 

 scraps by the companionship he affords. 

 Perhaps the most astonishing thing 

 about the Yellowstone birds is the 

 friendliness of the ducks and larger 

 waterfowl. It is often hard to believe 

 that the ducks feeding within a few 

 feet of the passing stages are actually 

 "wild." This tameness is not any more 

 peculiar to the Yellowstone, to be sure, 

 than to other absolutely protected 

 places. It is interesting to see how shy 

 the migrating ducks are when they ar- 

 rive, and how soon they lose their wild- 

 ness and adopt Yellowstone ways. The 

 mallards are to be found on or near 

 most of the ponds and smaller lakes, 

 usually with a half dozen fuzzy little 

 ducklings following the mother about 

 everywhere. Although the little chaps 

 are expert hiders and dodgers, there is 

 no doubt that the fierce duck hawk and 

 the large owls get a good many. On 

 land they are subject to attack by wolf, 

 coyote, bobcat, and a whole host of 

 smaller fur-bearing animals. Even in 

 the water there is an enemy. I was 

 riding past a pond and noticed a brood 

 of ducklings swimming. They were 

 siinning themselves, and occasionally 

 chasing a venturesome bug across the 

 surface. Apparently they were care- 

 free and safe. Suddenly the mother 

 sounded a note of alarm and made for 

 the farther shore with the whole brood 

 after her. Soon a muskrat appeared 

 swimming rapidly toward the ducks. 

 How they did swim ! Not fast enough, 

 although they used their stubby little 

 wings to lielp them along. The musk- 

 rat was almost upon the duckling in 

 the rear, when the mother saw the dan- 

 ger and in an instant was there scoop- 

 ing water with her wings into the rafs 



