of wings in the trees behind me, and 

 flash of blue, and our old friend the blue 

 jay is in sight. In the lowlands of the 

 Far South as well as of the North the 

 noisy blue-coat is a common winter resi- 

 dent, but in these foothills of the Cum- 

 berlands he is very uncommon at any 

 season of the year ; in May and June 

 you will find a dozen yellow-breasted 

 chats to one blue jay. Just why .this is 

 true I do not know, for these magnifi- 

 cent forests of the Southern Appalachi- 

 ans furnish what to my eye are the best 

 of nesting places and opportunities for 

 unlimited plunder ; no doubt there is 

 something lacking in these uplands, 

 some subtle charm of atmosphere or 

 flavor of the favorite food that will ac- 

 count tor his rarity in these parts. 



One week later I made the fifth trip 

 over the course. The snow was getting 

 soft and beginning to disappear in the 

 sheltered spots under the combined in- 

 fluences of the sun and the warm south 

 wind. The rag-weed patch beyond the 

 creek is full of birds, juncos and tree 

 sparrows, harvesting the last of the 

 crop ; up on the hillside where the tulip 

 trees are plentiful the titmice are mak- 

 ing merry; while from the slope beyond 

 comes the nasal "Yank, yank" of the 

 white-breasted nuthatch. 



A downy calls, and somewhere in the 

 forest a red-bellied woodpecker speaks 

 his piece. The air is not so bracing as 

 a week ago, but the hill is soon climbed 

 and from a seat on a prostrate chestnut 

 I absorb the scene. The hills seem a 

 little barer than they did then, for the 

 soft mantle is being gently withdrawn 

 and all their ruggedness laid bare. A 

 loud cackle in the clearing before me 



puts every nerve on the alert; I have 

 heard that voice before, but where? O, 

 yes, it was down in the Mississippi bot- 

 toms. A second cackle, he is evidently 

 just over the slope in the area of girdled 

 trees. After a time, it seems a very 

 long time, the bird flies across the open 

 in front of me, marking time with 

 strong wing- strokes in his undulating 

 woodpecker flight. He is large, as large 

 as a crow, it must be, it is the pileated. 



A viev/ of this bird is as good as a 

 feast, but after a while I turn from the 

 red and black beauty in the deadening 

 before me and retrace my steps. Here 

 are a group of sparrows jumping about 

 in the dim interior of a button bush 

 swamp, six ''trees" and one "white 

 throat." No doubt the latter is only a 

 stray, lost from his herd and waiting 

 here among strangers for something to 

 turn up. 



With all their snow and ice the winter 

 forests have their attractions, none the 

 less alluring because they must be 

 sought out clad in overcoat and mittens. 

 It is the more serious side of bird life 

 that one sees at this time of the year ; 

 there are no teasing antics, no playful 

 races, none of the ornamental graces 

 and the side-lights of the mating season. 

 When spring comes these hills and val- 

 leys will be alive with warblers, vireos, 

 tanagers and the other brilliantly col- 

 ored birds of the Upper Mississippi Val- 

 ley region, but none of them with all his 

 beauty of plumage and sprightliness of 

 manner can quite enlist our sympathies 

 or gain our respect as do these sturdy 

 fellows tl:^t brave the rigors and perils 

 of the winter. 



James S. Compton. 



101 



