Crested Flycatcher. 221 



havo formed its acquaintance in the woods seem to bo 

 unaware of its existence. Though a rambler through the 

 woods since my early boyhood, I never identified the 

 crested flycatcher until early in 1894. Having identified 

 it, however, I was acquainted with it at once, for its voice 

 had its place in the familiar wildwood medley, and I 

 recalled many of its traits and habits which I had not 

 associated with its name. It is a handsome bird, about 

 the size of the kingbird, and its relation to the latter is 

 manifested by many similar characteristics. The greenish- 

 olive of the upper parts, the bright sulphur yellow of the 

 under parts, and the crest which it erects occasionally in 

 its excited moments, will enable the interested student to 

 identify it. Indeed, it appears to be an overgrown pewee, 

 and persons who know the wood pewee should not be 

 slow in identifying the crested flycatcher. 



In the woods the crested flycatchers generally perch on 

 dead, bare limbs, often quite high, and generally near the 

 top of the tree. They occupy a higher plane in life than 

 the little wood pewees, calling to their mates with "shrill, 

 querulous, whistling notes." While selecting their nesting 

 sites they are especially noisy, and as they visit every 

 available or probable site in the neighborhood, their pro- 

 ceedings are very likely to receive notice. No piece of 

 woodland harbori ng a pair of these birds can become lonely, 

 though I have found them least noisy in the vicinity of 

 their nests. In other words, the nest is not usually In the 

 vicinity of the place where they are most loquacious. 

 Nor do they prefer the more open portions of the woods; 

 but secluded ravines and the more primeval parts of the 

 forest, where the wood thrush utters his inimitable melody, 

 and the nuthatch finds seclusion for its home, are the 

 favorite resorts of the crested flycatcher. 



This species, like a few others, seems to be influenced 

 by the advance of civilization, and, aflected by the inevi- 

 table destruction of its natural haunts, is extending its 

 quarters to more cultivated regions. Its nesting in or- 

 chards and in nooks of outbuildings is now nothing uncom- 

 mon. It makes itself perfectly at home about the farmer's 

 door-yard, and acts as though the recesses and cavities 

 about the porch or kitchen had been made especially for 



