16 - Bulletin No. 3 



tree and two or three which I had not discovered in the maple com- 

 menced to move about. There were eight or nine birds where I had 

 only discovered two. 



Sometimes the alarm has been given while a bird was on my hand 

 and it would at once take the same rigid attitude as the birds on the 

 tree and remain there, often much to my inconvenience. 



Sometimes the alarm proves to be a false one. A jay in the 

 distance is often mistaken for a shrike but the mistake is soon dis- 

 covered. As soon as the danger is over the birds usually all join in 

 a chorus of chick-a-dee-dees. In my ignorance I used to think, when 

 I heard the chickadees all singing together in that way, that they were 

 feeling particularly happy but have since come to the conclusion that 

 it is more often a sign of distress or at least of excitement. I always 

 investigate when I hear an unusual amount of singing. 



At one time when I heard the birds singing in that excited manner 

 I found that a shrike had just caught a bird and was in the act of kill- 

 ing it and a few days since when I responded to the same signal -of 

 distress I found a shrike in the tree watching two chickadees which 

 were singing chick-a-dee-dee with all their might. There was no hiding 

 this time, they were in constant motion always keeping above the 

 shrike, neither did they make any attempt to fly away. Evidently 

 they considered it safer to remain where they were and try to keep out 

 of his way. They were probably right, for after watching them for 

 a while he seemed to give it up and flew away. 



Three times I have seen the shrike with a bird which it had cap- 

 tured and in each instance, although not near enough to positively 

 identify the bird, I have judged, from the feathers that I found in 

 the snow, that the victim was a sparrow. While I have not actually 

 seen the shrike catch other birds I feel sure that it does so because 

 of the decrease in my bird family that always follows its advent. 



This year I first saw a shrike Nov. 29. At that time my family 

 consisted of a large number of chickadees, including several tame 

 birds, doubtless some of my pets of last year, three juncos and a lot of 

 English sparrows. The day that I first saw the shrike, one of my 

 juncos disappeared, the next day another was missing and the third 

 day the last one disappeared. Had they all gone at once I might have 

 thought they had left for fear of the shrike or had decided to go farther 

 south, although that seemed unlikely as it was so late in the season 

 and they had been boarding with me for some time. 



A song sparrow, which found its way to my table later on, also 

 disappeared. 



