J^oteg from JTieli anO ^tuDp 



A Redpoll Invasion 



Upon my arrival at State College, in 

 the very center of Pennsylvania, I fondly 

 cherished hopes of seeing Redpolls, but 

 these were soon dispelled by the reports 

 of the various bird students that they 

 were not found in the vicinity. It was, 

 therefore, with an exultant thrill that I 

 shortly discovered that the winter of 1908- 

 1909 was one to be long remembered by 

 the legions of Redpolls which cheered the 

 heart of the ornithologist on all his winter 

 walks. 



It was on December 12, 1908, that the 

 forerunners of the hosts which were to 

 come were first observed. We were return- 

 ing from a vain search for Ducks, and, 

 while beating our way across the fields, 

 against a blinding snowstorm, suddenly 

 a flock of small Finches flew rapidly 

 by and settled on the drifting snow. In a 

 moment I recognized the note of the Red- 

 poll, and, all aglow, I hurried forward 

 and watched them as they flitted ner- 

 vously about over the surface of the snow, 

 frequently feeding on the low weed- 

 stalks which everywhere rose above the 

 rapidly deepening mantle. But, surely, 

 they could not all be Redpolls! No, for 

 there, as they scurried about, we fre- 

 quently caught sight of pale yellowish 

 wing-bars among the plainer pinions of 

 the mass. And there, scattered amid the 

 flock of perhaps thirty Redpolls, were 

 probably twelve Pine Siskins. Well con- 

 tent, we left them, and, as we hurried 

 home in the twilight, several other flocks 

 took wing at our near approach. Evi- 

 dently, the Redpolls were here after all! 



But these were only the smallest frac- 

 tion of what was to come. All during the 

 winter months, they were found in legions 

 throughout the Nittany Valley. Not only 

 in the fields, but, also, in the orchards, 

 in the town, and even on the college cam- 

 pus did we hear their cheerful notes. 

 As March drew near, every day I looked 

 for their departure, yet they showed no 



signs of leaving. Not until the last of the 

 month did they grow scarce, and the last 

 stragglers lingered until April 10, — days 

 after the arbutus and hepatica had burst 

 their swelling buds. 



What impressed me most was their 

 tameness. Repeatedly have I approached 

 to within a few feet of a feeding flock, and 

 they evinced no alarm. When they did 

 fly, it was only to make a few undulating 

 circles, and then return to the vicinity of 

 their former feeding-place. Frequently, 

 part of the flock would arise, and indi- 

 viduals would continue their search for 

 seeds, totally unconcerned over their 

 departing comrades. On near approach, 

 the males could be easily distinguished 

 from the females by their bright rosy 

 breasts, varying in intensity of coloration 

 as the ages of the birds. 



They fed indifferently on the snow or 

 perched upon the weed-stalks, those below 

 picking up the seeds shaken down by the 

 more industrious gleaners. Many a field 

 have I seen literally covered with a net- 

 work of their dainty tracks in the new- 

 fallen snow; yet not all obtain their sus- 

 tenance in this manner, for on several 

 occasions, I have noticed them picking 

 vigorously at the buds of the maples in 

 early spring. 



Unceasingly, as they flew in undulating 

 circles overhead, or fed companionably 

 on the ground, we heard them call — a 

 clear per-chee varying to a sharp clee-e — 

 somewhat resembling the similar notes 

 of the Goldfinch, yet distinct. But in 

 early March the males began to sing, and 

 I was privileged to add a new bird con- 

 cert to my category. A vigorous, wild, 

 Goldfinch-like melody it was, somehow 

 bringing to me pictures of the cold, wind- 

 swept barrens of northern Labrador, 

 where these tireless bits of bird life would 

 soon nest. Inspect, as I did at near view, 

 thousands of Redpolls, yet not one was 

 referable to any form other than Acanthis 

 linaria. 



The Redpolls have gone, yet vividly, 



(121) 



