74 



THE OOLOGIST 



The White-rumped Shrike in Chicag-o 

 Parks. 



Our parks, that boon to sweltering 

 humanity of this great hive, are at seas- 

 ons filled with a varied assortment of 

 avian life. Many are the migrants that 

 stop here by the way both in spring and 

 in fall and some stay with us all sum- 

 mer. Even in winter when old Boreas 

 sends down his chilly blasts and packs 

 the ice against our shore and his com- 

 panion Jack Frost peeps into every 

 crevice our parks are not devoid of 

 feathered attractions. One of these, 

 perhaps not the most cheerful, yet one 

 of the most interesting ones, is the 

 White-rumped Shrike. 



You may find him perched on the 

 very end of the topmost twig of some 

 poplar tree on any bright day. Despite 

 his dull gray and his predatory ways he 

 is often engaged in caroling sweetly. 

 He is an imitator of no mean ability 

 and coming in the midst of winter 

 when bird songs are scarce his musical 

 efforts are extremely welcome. Such 

 noises as the cat-call of the Catbird he 

 reproduces to perfection and at times 

 he gives vent to his own harsh, grating 

 trill. But at other times his voice is 

 subdued and you are in turn reminded 

 of the Robin, the Red-winged Black- 

 bird, and the sweet song of the Catbird 

 intei'spersed by sweet notes that are 

 his own for ought the writer knows. 



These vocal attempts are usually 

 produced by the satisfaction of the 

 cravings of nature produced by a hearty 

 meal of European Sparrow. This lat- 

 ter bird is certainly plentiful enough, 

 and it furnishes the daily fill of fare for 

 the Shrike. 



The modus operandi in capturing 

 and disposing of a Sparrow is very in- 

 teresting. Singling out a victim the 

 Shrike gives chase. The Sparrow 

 screaming with fright flies hard for 

 liberty but is gradually overhauled. I 

 have seen this chase going on high in 



the air, and again a Sparrow would try 

 to baffle its pursuer by dodging through 

 a tree. The Sparrow is a plucky bird, 

 but it is no match for its adversary 

 which is not so very much larger. It is 

 finally tired out and the Shrike poising- 

 above it dashes down against it with 

 such force as to completely overbalance 

 it and send it fluttering towards the 

 earth, and presently one more "rat of 

 the air" has expired. And now for the 

 meal. The Shrike picks it up first with 

 his strong hooked beak, then arising 

 and flying a few feet tosses it down- 

 wards by a lowering of his head and 

 reaching forward with his feet trans- 

 fers it to his small but apparently not 

 very weak claws. He now carries it to 

 to some tree alights on some small 

 limb, one foot on his prey, the other 

 grasping the perch. Selecting some 

 stiff or dead twig he perches just below 

 and with the Sparrow in his beak tosses 

 it over the end and throwing back- 

 wards his whole weight tugs away im- 

 paling it usually by the loose skin of 

 the neck. These twigs are not too 

 sharp, at least, in the cases I noticed;, 

 perhaps he sighs for his native thorn 

 hedge. Often he uses some acute 

 crotch and wedges his victim securely. 

 He now proceeds to peck out the bi'ain 

 of which he seems very fond, he de- 

 vours the whole head except the beak;, 

 this is the only part of the head I have 

 been able to find below. He pulls off 

 the meat in large mouthfuls and except 

 for an occasional beakful of feathers 

 given to the wind swallows everything. 

 The head, neck, and some of the fore 

 part of the body usually suffices for the 

 meal. He seems indiffei'ent to what 

 becomes of the rest. 



I had a good opportunity to watch 

 the impaling and wedging process as 

 the Sparrow would frequently drop to 

 the ground; then the Shrike would 

 swoop, down in Hawk-like fashion and 

 describing curve near the ground alight, 

 near the tid-bit pick it up, always with 



