The raven wanders over the entire Territory, but is much less 
conspicuous and familiar in the interior than on the coast. It is 
resident; and Nelson gives a fine picture of the part it plays in the 
terrible landscape and experiences of midwinter life amid the wastes 
of the lower Yukon Valley. No crows reach this country, but the 
rusty blackbird is a regular, although infrequent, visitor, extending 
its breeding-range to the northern limit of tree-growth. 
Finches and Other Small Songsters 
The finch family, as would be expected, is numerously represent¬ 
ed, some of those which haunt trees, as the grosbeaks, being among 
the most abundant of Alaskan birds. The Alaskan pine grosbeak is 
everywhere abundant and fearless all the year round. Grinnell 
furnishes the best account extant of this very interesting bird; 
In September and October pine grosbeaks were quite numerous, being 
often met with in companies of six to a dozen, immatures and adults together. 
They were usually among the scattering birch and spruce which line the 
low ridges. There, until the snow covered the ground, they fed on blueberries, 
rose-apples and cranberries. During the winter their food was much the 
same as that of the redpolls—seeds and buds of birch, alder and willow, and 
sometimes tender spruce needles. In the severest winter weather they 
were not often in the spruce, but had then retired into the willow beds. 
The usual note is a clear whistle of three syllables. The native name, ki-u-tak, 
represents it. Then there was a low, mellow, one-syllabled note uttered 
among members of a flock when alarmed. Twice I noted solitary males, 
when flying across the woods, singing a loud, rollicking warble, much like a 
purple finch. One morning, the 18th of February, found me across the river 
skirting the willows in search of ptarmigan. Although it was 50 degrees 
below zero, a pine grosbeak, from the depths of a nearby thicket, suddenly 
burst forth in a rich melodious strain, something like our southern black¬ 
headed grosbeak. He continued, though in a more subdued fashion, for 
several minutes. Such surroundings and conditions for a bird-song like this! 
Again one day in March, during a heavy snow-storm, a bright red male sang 
similarly at intervals for nearly an hour, from an alder thicket near the cabin, 
and as summer approached their song was heard more and more frequently. 
Not until May 25th did I discover a nest. This was barely commenced, 
but on June 3rd, when I visited the locality again, the nest was completed 
and contained four fresh eggs. The female was incubating, and remained on 
the nest until nearly touched. The nest was eight feet above the ground on 
the loweq horizontal branches of a small spruce growing on the side of a 
wooded ridge. The nest was a shallow affair, very much like a tanager’s. 
The eggs were pale Nile blue with a possible greenish tinge, dotted 
and spotted with pale lavender, drab and sepia. 
The red, or American, crossbill is extremely rare, and perhaps 
does not occur at all north of the Alaskan Mountains; but the white¬ 
winged crossbill is to be seen everywhere that forests grow. It is 
more familiar. Nelson tells us, than the pine grosbeak, frequently 
coming low down among the smaller growth ; and it is a common 
sight to see parties of them swinging about in every conceivable 
position in the tops of the cotton-woods or birch trees, where the 
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