Nov, 1900] BIRDS OF THE KOTZEBUE SOUND REGION. 49 



mass of ice near Cape Lowenstern. I was ashore for a few hours in the evening, 

 and during my tramp I first met with this decidedly arctic species. There were 

 two pairs of Snowflakes about an old eskimo burying ground on a low eminence 

 near the beach. They evidently had young, as I saw one of the birds carrying a 

 billful of insects to a patch of grass, but I failed to find a nest. Two of the birds 

 were secured. One, an adult male, was shot from the top of one of the poles com- 

 posing a burial scaffold. This seemed to be a favorite perch, judging from the 

 numerous streaks of excrement on the timbers. Strange to say, I did not find this 

 species again anywhere until the spring of '99, on the Kowak, and then only as a 

 passing migrant. On April 19th a specimen was secured, and on the 21st I saw 

 another. Several persons subsequently described them to me as having been seen 

 about the same time at diff"erent points up and down the Kowak. They were 

 noted singly and in small flocks but soon left. The natives know the bird as 

 A-mot'le-iik. 



Ca/carius lappo7iiciis alasccnsis Ridgw. 

 Alaskan Longspur. 



The first landing after our tedious voyage of forty days was at a point on the 

 Alaskan coast about twenty miles northeast of Cape Prince of Wales. It was 

 toward midnight, at the close of the 27th day of June, that our dinkey struck the 

 sandy beach, and as I stepped ashore and walked back from the water a few yards, 

 the first bird-song to meet my expectant ear was that of the Alaskan I^ongspur. 

 My acquaintance with the birds at this point was limited to the few hours ashore 

 during this evening and the next. But the Alaskan Longspur was, with the 

 single exception of the Snowy Owl, the only land bird observed. The low -lying 

 moss-covered tundras with not even a dwarfed bush or any extensiye patch of 

 grass to offer attraction to any other land bird, seemed to constitute a congenial abode 

 for -this species, and the longspurs were fairly common. They seemed to show 

 preference for the dryest tracts lying just back of the beach and on the higher 

 ground separating the numerous lagoons and lakes. In my tramp across these tun- 

 dras I would frequently meet with a male longspur standing motionless on .some 

 conspicuous hummock. If I approached too close he would attempt to get out of 

 my way by stealthily running to one side, but if pressed he would take flight and 

 mount upwards, circhng high overhead and uttering his pleasing song. I some- 

 times heard them singing from their perches on the ground, but they were most 

 generally heard while circling with apparent aimlessness far above, the yellow 

 reflection of the midnight sun bringing out their forms against the indigo sky. 

 To my ear the song of the Alaskan Longspur resembles closely that of the West- 

 ern Meadowlark, except that it is much weaker and more prolonged. A nest was 

 found at this point containing two newly-hatch young and three eggs. It was 

 sunk into a hunmiock of spagnum and completely concealed from above by a 

 tussock of grass, part of which was artfully arched over it. The nest proper con- 

 sisted of a remarkably scant lining of long, fine grasses. At Cape Lowenstern, on 

 July ist, I noted a few longspurs, and at Cape Blossom, over the rolhng hills just 

 back of the coast, this bird was common. Its song was heard for a few days after 

 our arrival, June 9th, but ceased altogether after the i6th. The first juveniles, 

 full-grown, were seen on July 30. In 1899, apparently a much earlier season, 



