SUMMER BIRDS OF THE REDWOODS 



throughout the eastern states. Here it does not penetrate the 

 redwood fastnesses as does the chickadee, but prefers the 

 edges of the forest, singing its merry song amid the tangled 

 shrubbery. The harsh clatter of one of these birds attracts us 

 to a blackberry bush, where the busy little fellow is bustling 

 and bobbing about with erect tail and quivering wings. Re- 

 main quiet for a moment and his loud chatter subsides to a 

 low crooning, as he flits about the dead underbrush, picking up 

 a stray insect here and there on the bark, and occasionally 

 breaking out into his liquid, melodious, happy-go-lucky song. 

 Near at hand the blue-fronted jay is sounding his succession of 

 loud, short, slightly harsh notes, occasionally varied by a harsh, 

 peevish, emphatic squaak. Impudent fellow that he is, with 

 his elegant plumage and beautiful crest, he may well feel his 

 independence in these far-reaching forests of primeval grand- 

 eur, where the dainty hoof-print of the deer is more familiar 

 than the step of man. 



Here also, for the first time, I discovered the pine-finch in 

 its native home. I was first attracted by a curious little attempt 

 at a song which I imagined was the work of a young goldfinch 

 that had not yet learned the lesson. It was so poor an apology 

 for bird-music, and yet so earnest, as to be almost grotesque. 

 A short search in the redwoods revealed the singer, which 

 proved to be a male pine-finch pouring forth his love-song. To 

 the ears of his devoted spouse it was, no doubt, sweeter far than 

 the melodious tones of the thrush, and so, I trust, it served 

 every purpose in sweetening these two fair lives. 



Perhaps the most interesting of our redwood birds are the 

 woodpeckers. Their lives are so completely apart from the 

 rest of the bird world that they seem to dwell in a realm of 



noi] 



