THE OOLOGIST 



75 



Willow Slough North of Long Beach, Calif., where Alfred Cookman 

 Found the California Cuckoo Nesting 



— Photo by Cookman 



no genius; or if a genius, he belongs 

 to the impressionist school. The nest 

 is but a raft of sticks flung into the 

 fork of a bough." We find that Mrs. 

 Eckstrom's description is quite right 

 and that the California Cuckoo's nest 

 is indeed so frail and so loosely put 

 together that one may see the eggs 

 or young from underneath. 



As we approached the nest, the 

 mother would ruffle her feathers until 

 the usually sleek, slender bird seemed 

 to be bristling with rage, her head ex- 

 tended on a level with her body and 

 her long tail slightly elevated. She 

 would watch us like a hawk, she would 

 not desert her post, nor did we ever 

 force her to do so. The California 

 Cuckoo lays from three to four eggs. 

 They are glossy light bluish green; 

 paler in the incubated than in the 

 fresh. 



The sound of the male cuckoo could 

 be heard far into the night, if the moon 

 lighted the willow bottom, during the 

 day it floated through the trees like 

 a wandering voice. 



Mourning Dove Nests. 

 September is a rather late date for 

 nidification with most of our birds. 

 September, 1908, found me in the field, 

 not expecting to find eggs but idly vis- 

 iting some of the old and deserted 

 nests which my bird friends of the 

 preceeding spring had vacated some 

 two or more months ago. One nest, a 

 Blue Jay's had contained on June 1st, 

 four freshly laid eggs. The young 

 jays had left of course by this time but 

 my arrival at the tree proved the nest 

 still in use. A Mourning Dove was 

 seated thereon and my climb of eigh- 

 teen feet up the white oak disclosed 



