154 Bird -Lore 



and seemed not at all sh}', though keeping a sharp look-out for the wel- 

 fare of their young. 



The next morning the young took their first flight, already seeming 

 quite expert, and choosing bare twigs to perch on, like all their race. They 

 gave the characteristic, three - syllabled call clearly the first day, though 

 more softly than their parents. For more than a week the family kept 

 together near the nest. The last part of the time there seemed to be a 

 good deal of flutter and scolding going on. I think the old ones were try- 

 ing to induce the young to catch their own game. 



The nest was -a very frail structure, open and flat, consisting of gray 

 fir-twigs laid rather than woven, and quite without fixing together. The 

 parents must have depended on the thick fir-needles for keeping the eggs 

 and young from falling to the ground. Another nest was placed very near 

 the top of a tall fir-tree, also, near the tip of a small branch. This was 

 nearly two hundred feet from the ground, I should judge. The flight and 

 actions of the old birds as they fed their young were unmistakable. This 

 tree was also situated near a skeleton fir that gave a wide outlook for the 

 parents while hunting, and contained, besides, the nest of a Robin and of a 

 Cassin's Purple Finch. 



By August 24, all birds of this kind had disappeared from the neighbor- 

 hood, where the absence of their loud, incessant calls gave the effect of 

 almost utter silence. They were probably starting slowly with the young 

 birds on their long migration, but there had been no frost, nor was there 

 any perceptible diminution in the number of insects. 



If the note of the Olive-sided Flycatcher was the prevailing sound in 

 the evening, the western Wood Pewee, with its monotonous plaint, made 

 up the body of the morning chorus in July and August. This note is not 

 easy to spell in letters. It has been variously given as "peer," "pee-wee" 

 and "sweer." I think "dre-ear" is better suited to the expression. The 

 most noticeable quality is the despairing emphasis on the first syllable, as if 

 it were forced out with the last gasp of agony. I defy any one to remain 

 cheerful with this sound ringing in his ears at all hours of the day. 



At Tahoe these birds were far more common than the larger Olive-sided 

 Flycatcher. They did not come into conflict with them, however, for 

 they chose a slightly different haunt. Instead of the open woods of ancient 

 trees on the shore of the lake, they preferred the annually flooded meadows 

 back from the shore, covered with a growth of young tamarack trees, many 

 of which were dead or dying. These moist, wooded meadows were 

 swarming with mosquitoes and other insects, which attracted many birds. 



This Flycatcher would sit very straight and slim on a bare twig, turning 

 his head incessantly and every few seconds uttering his cry. 



Their favorite nesting site was a dead tamarack, stripped by the weather 

 of its bark. A very conspicuous object in this situation one would expect 



