THE WESTERN WINTER WREN. “311 
of decayed stumps, brush-heaps, etc. Eggs: 4-7, usually 5, white or creamy-white, 
dotted finely but sparingly with reddish brown; occasionally blotched with the 
same; sometimes almost unmarked. Av. size .69x.50 (17.5 x 12.7). Season: 
first week in April to first week in July according to altitude; two broods. 
General Range.—Western North America, breeding from southern Cali- 
fornia to southern Alaska, east to western Montana. Chiefly resident, but south 
irregularly in Great Basin States and California in winter. 
Range in Washington.—Resident in coniferous timber from sea level to limit 
of trees; less common east of the Cascade Mountains; of irregular occurrence in 
open country during migrations. 
Authorities.—| Lewis and Clark, Hist. (1814) Ed. Biddle: Coues. Vol. II, 
p- 186.] ° Orn. Com. Journ. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila. VII. 1837, 193 (Columbia 
River). Troglodytes (Anorthura) hyemalis Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 
To Som pes 00s ml) mGcs lain Os Kiba: Kk. J. Be By. 
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E. 
Chick — chick chick — chick chick; it is the Winter Wren’s way of say- 
ing How-do-you-do? when you invade his domain in the damp forest. The 
voice is a size too large for such a mite of a bird, and one does not understand 
its circumflexed quality until he sees its possessor making an emphatic curtsey 
with each utterence. It is not every day that the recluse beholds a man, and 
it may be that he has stolen a march under cover of the ferns and salal 
brush before touching off his little mine of interrogatives at your knees. If 
so, his brusque little being is softened by a friendly twinkle, as he notes your 
surprise and then darts back chuckling to the cover of a fallen log. 
Again, if your entrance into the woods has been unnoticed, so that the 
little huntsman comes upon you in the regular way of business, it is amusing 
to watch with what ruses of circumvention he seeks to inspect you. Now 
he appears above a root on your right gawking on tiptoe; then drops at a 
flash behind its shelter to reprove himself in upbraiding chick chick’s for his 
rashness. Then, after a minute of apprehensive silence on your part, a 
chuckle at your other elbow announces that the inspection is satisfactorily 
completed on that side. The Lilliputian has you at his mercy, Mr. Gulliver. 
Dr. Cooper, writing fifty years ago, considered this the commonest 
species in the forests of “the Territory.’’ With the possible exception of 
the Golden-crowned Kinglet, this is probably still true, since it is found not 
merely along streams and in romantic dells, but thruout the somber depths of 
the fir and spruce forests from sea level to the limit of trees. It is fond of the 
wilderness and has as yet learned no necessity of dependence upon man, but it 
by no means shuns the edges of town, if only sufficient density of cover be 
provided. Because of the more open character of pine timber, the Winter 
Wren is less common and is altogether local in its distribution east of the 
mountains, being confined for the most part to those forest areas which boast 
an infusion of fir and tamarack. 
