THE OOLOGIST. 



85 



not so striking in appearance. The 

 white patch of wiugs of male is lacking 

 or imperfect, and the colors in general 

 are subdued, excepting the white spaces 

 on inner webs of the primaries which 

 are clear. Underneath brownish, with 

 faint, irregular traces of yellow. 

 Young of the year resemble the female. 

 Both sexes ai'rive here from the North 

 together, usually in November, and 

 take their departures in March or April, 

 though a few loiterers may remain later. 

 Information regarding the nidifica- 

 tion of this species is very meager,there 

 beiug but few recorded instances of its 

 nesting. Its eggs are said to be similar 

 to those of the well known Rose- 

 bre isted Grosbeak, but the evidence is 

 not altogether ? satisfactory. Of this 

 bird there still remains much to be 

 learned. 



Their food here seems to be the buds 

 of the cottonwood (Populus monilifera) 

 and box-elder (Acer negundo) and in 

 these two trees they are more often 

 found than in others, generally peck- 

 ing at the buds. 



They manifest little fear for mankind 

 and continue to eat uninteruptedly 

 while the observer stands near them. 

 My winter notes of a certain date, read: 

 This morning I saw a lone Evening 

 Grosbeak in a box-elder near the house. 

 Ifseemed not in the least shy of me, as 

 I walked within a few feet of it and it 

 hardly hesitated in its work of gather 1 

 ing a breakfast of elder buds. This is 

 but one of many times that I have not- 

 iced its rare trustfulness. 



They are not common here, at least 

 not very common, but can not be called 

 rare. This season I have not noted 

 their presence. The winter of 1890 

 they visited us in considei'able numbers 

 and could be found in their favorite 

 trees almost any day until late in the 

 spring. That same winter we read 

 many notices of their occurrence where 

 they had not before been observed. 

 They are erratic and even here in Minn- 



esota, where we can expect to see them, 

 we often pass a winter without noting 

 their presence. They come and go. 

 without warning. Flocks, two, three 

 or a single bird will be seen, and per- 

 haps found for several days in the 

 same locality, only to vanish suddenly 

 and be as though they had not been 

 known. 



I well remember my first acquaintance, 

 made several years ago, with this re- 

 markable bird. It was in the month of 

 February. I was passing near some 

 trees when a flock of Evening Gros- 

 beaks flew over my head, uttering a cry 

 so like the fall notes of the Robin that, 

 involuntarily, I paused and looked for 

 that well known bird, hardly believing 

 my ears had deceived me even when I 

 saw that the Grosbeak was the author 

 of the sound. In a moment they had 

 passed from sight, and left me medita- 

 ting on what I had heard and witnessed. 

 The momentary view of an unfamil- 

 iar being of such wonderful and strik- 

 ing appearance awakened in my mind 

 a strange train of thought. I stood 

 lost in wonderment, hoping, fearing, 

 doubting, yet wishing to believe I be- 

 held visitors from the mystic land. 

 Other strange feelings crowded in up- 

 on me as I atood gazing into the dis- 

 tance where that bright vision had so 

 lately vanished, which all the more al- 

 most convinced me I saw something 

 not of ordinary life. But, not altogeth- 

 er happily, I have become familiar 

 with this shadowy pilgrim from the 

 north, and I cease to wonder so much. 

 But from my first thoughts there must 

 always linger around the Evening 

 Grosbeak a weird ness that will ever 

 come before me with the form or re- 

 memberance of this, after all, little 

 known bird— fit representative of a lit- 

 tle known region. 



A strange quietness broods o'er thy tri-colored 

 form 



When thou comest, a spirit born on wings of 

 the storm; 



