AMERICAN CROSSBILL 

 WHITE-WINGED CROSSBILL 



By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT 



W&t jftational Association of auoubon Societies 



EDUCATIONAL LEAFLET NO. 35 



While we may count upon seeing certain species of birds during the migra- 

 tions, and are assured that the old favorites that have been known since child- 

 hood will nest in the neighborhood, yet the comings and goings of the winter 

 visitors are surrounded by a tantalizing uncertainty. 



In the bakers' dozen of these hardy voyagers of the air, we may, in the eastern 

 and middle states, include the familiar Junco, Tree and White-throated Spar- 

 rows, the Winter Wren, Brown Creeper, Golden-crowned King- 

 Season let, Northern Shrike, the occasional Snowy Owl, the haphazard 

 Snowflake, Redpoll, Longspur, and the wholly irresponsible 

 Crossbills. At best, the presence of these birds, with the curiously specialized 

 beaks, depends upon the presence of cone-bearing trees, for cone seeds are 

 their winter fare. 



If on a clear, cold winter morning, soon after a snow-fall, I hear a clear 

 metallic call-note high up among the spruces, I know that the Crossbills have 

 come. On going out under the same trees to prove the sound by a glimpse of 

 the birds themselves, the calling stops, and instead, as I pause to listen and 

 focus my glass on a particular bird of bright hue, a rustling noise, akin to the 

 falling of dry and somewhat heavy leaves, mingles with a few colloquial twitter- 

 ings, as if the birds were talking to themselves, parrot-fashion; this rustling 

 being caused by the shelling off of the cone scales, as the Crossbills feed upon 

 the seeds that lie between. 



As for the bird itself, or rather birds, for, as often happens, a mixed flock 

 has settled among the spruces. Few of the white-winged species are mingled 

 with their more plentiful wholly red brothers, while the mottled olive-green 

 of the females and young of both species make the party consist not of birds 

 of a feather, but of three distinct plumages, enough in itself to confuse the 

 novice who is gazing at the first Crossbill of his experience. 



Let us stand off a bit, back braced firmly against a tree, and examine the 

 nearest bird in detail, as he hangs, head downward, on a long cone 

 Appearance with all the nonchalance of the up-side-down Chickadee. In 

 length the Red Crossbill is a trifle smaller than the English Spar- 

 row; the body of the male is a dull brick-red, brighter on the rump and rusty 

 in the middle of the back, shading to lead-gray or fuscous on the wings. The 



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