Pinyon Jay 



(" THE BIRD THAT NEVER BREEDS ") 

 By P. B. Peabody 



CONFUSION reigns in the mind of the Wyoming native concerning the 

 merits of the Pinyon Jay. He is cock-snre — this same native, — that 

 the Pinyon Jay is the " Camp Robber " ; perhaps because all robbers look 

 alike to him. He is also certain that the Pinyon Jay never rears any young ; 

 and truth to say the writer hereof, having spent several days, recently, in 

 search of Pinyon Jay nests in a locality wherein he saw these noisy creatures 

 by the dozen and by the dozen duplicated, yet finding but a single occupied 

 nest, is inclined to the same opinion. 



Soberly speaking, the Pinyon Jay is a puzzle. And the better you 

 come to know him the more of a puzzle he becomes. All winter long, in 

 the sub-tropical climate of Northeastern Wyoming where the thermometer 

 varies and veers, wintrally, between fifty-above and thirty-below, the Pinyon 

 Jay is a familiar and impudent frequenter of village homes and of ranch en- 

 virons. He is fond of wheat : by nature ; he revels in garbage : by acquired 

 taste. 



Of an unvaryingly social nature, this Jay is found, where found at all, 

 in considerable numbers. One is tempted to believe, as the result of extend- 

 ed observation, that the Pinyon Jay is sociable chiefly because he loves to 

 quarrel. Other possible motives underlying the social instinct remain as 

 yet unrevealed to those bird-loving mortals who are constrained, through 

 many years of bird study, to confess ; that " the way of a bird in the air " 

 is no more wonderful than the ways of a bird in its nesting time and in its 

 mutual relationships ; and that the goose who attributes human motive to 

 the birds really knows no more about bird psychology than does any other 

 goose ! 



To the newly arrived habitant, the Pinyon Jay acquaints himself quick- 

 ly, in Wyoming, on his arrival, in a vocal way. One hears, whatever the 

 time of year, a whining cry in mid-air, as of a dozen week-old puppies ; and 

 is rather slow in connecting the sound with its winged source. But he per- 

 ceives, erelong ; that the reasonant and fairly-pleasing sound emerges from 

 the throats of a dozen or more dark-looking birds that are flying, concerted- 

 ly, two hundred yards or so above the listener's head. 



