294 



Bird - Lore 



the Blackburnian in particular was en- 

 countered frequently on every trail. Single 

 records only of the Parula, Black-throated 

 Green, Canada, and Mourning Warblers 

 have been made. A pair of Connecticut 

 Warblers was found in the same bog as 

 last year. Only a small proportion of the 

 Ovenbirds that were so abundant here 

 last year have been present this season. 

 The Warbler migration at Minneapolis 

 last spring was up to the average of recent 

 years, but seemingly the usual allotment 

 for this region did not come here to nest. 

 Such abrupt and extreme irregularities in 

 distribution are not easy to explain. Next 

 year conditions may be normal again. 



Last year there were many more forest- 

 loving Ducks breeding here than there are 

 this year. Only two broods of Golden-eyes 

 and two or three adult Wood Ducks have 

 been seen about the lake. A single brood 

 of Mallards has been encountered several 

 times in the same locality, feeding among 

 the wild rice, a sparse growth of which 

 fringes much of the lake shore. The wild 

 rice never grows tall here, the blossoms and 

 grain being usually only one to three feet 

 above the surface of the water. 



Black Terns, Kingfishers, Great Blue 

 Herons and Loons have been present in 

 about normal numbers, but no young of 

 the last species have been seen. Perhaps 

 the nests were flooded by the early high 

 water. 



Turkey Buzzards, formerly common, are 

 evidently steadily decreasing in numbers. 

 Fourteen is the maximum count this 

 season. The usual Bald Eagles and Fish 

 Hawks, a single pair of each, have nested 

 near the main lake. 



In contrast to the above described 

 scarcity of desirable birds has been the 

 overabundance of two undesirable birds — 

 the Crow and the Grackle. These two 

 species have been everywhere, constantly 

 in sight and hearing, noisy and irritating. 

 The Crackles gather and nest in the trees 

 about the Forestry School and dominate 

 the bird-life of the place during the breed- 

 ing time. Just how great a part these two 

 birds play in the great destruction of birds' 

 nests that is constantly taking place is 



difficult to determine accurately, but they 

 have been caught red-handed often enough 

 to apparently justify the general opinion 

 that they are the chief offenders. In their 

 present overabundance it is almost certain 

 that they play sad havoc with the nests of 

 many of our birds when they are not well 

 concealed or protected. In these forested 

 regions they have an accomplice in this 

 nefarious business, as bad if not worse 

 than themselves — the Red Squirrel. Chip- 

 munks of two species are much more 

 abundant hereabouts than Red Squirrels, 

 but so far as I can learn confine their 

 attention to nuts, small fruits and seeds. 

 But the Red Squirrel is common enough 

 and is constantly hanging about birds' 

 nests and has been seen to seize and make 

 off with nestlings when opportunity offers. 

 These three creatures, by reason of their 

 fondness for eggs and callow young and 

 their abundance, are seemingly the arch 

 enemies of our birds in the nesting season. 

 That there are other woodland depredators 

 is probably true, but thej' are apparently, 

 of less importance. 



When one is locating nests and watch- 

 ing them through until the young leave, 

 it becomes a matter of great astonishment 

 to find how few broods are successfully 

 launched. This, I think, is more true 

 here in the comparative wilderness than in 

 the vicinity of cities and towns. Of a con- 

 siderable number of nests found this year 

 a very small percentage were successes. 

 One pair of Song Sparrows at the Forestry 

 School built at least three nests — twice 

 in identically the same spot, two and a 

 half feet from the ground in a little spruce 

 by the water's edge — only to have them 

 dismantled as soon as eggs were deposited. 

 Crows were seen rifling a Robin's nest in 

 the same locality. A pair of Black-billed 

 Cuckoos made three attempts to raise a 

 family but met with diaster each time, 

 the last time when the young were one- 

 third grown. Even the nest of a little 

 Nashville Warbler, tucked away in a cozy 

 retreat in the side of a mossy hummock in 

 a spruce swamp, was the scene of some sort 

 of catastrophe when the young were two 

 or three days old, that left it hopelessly 



