and secretly watch the birds attempt to 

 steal it. The look of chagrin upon their 

 faces when they find themselves unable 

 to fly away with the coveted bit is very 

 amusing. They always attempt to take 

 everything by stealth. Silently they slip 

 out to the end of a limb and when you 

 are not watching they dart down and 

 nab the morsel, flitting back to their 

 perch and looking as innocent as pos- 

 sible. 



The "lumber jacks" have a great deal 

 of sport at the expense of these 

 feathered robbers during the winter 

 season in the logging camps. There 

 are always several of them about such 

 camps, where they pick up a very good 

 living from the scraps and waste from 

 the cook table. Failing in this, they 

 will eat the tallow from the team har- 

 ness. This has caused them to be 

 called 'Tallow Birds" by the woodsmen. 

 The trick that I spoke of seems to be a 

 little cruel, but as the bird is seldom 

 injured by it I must tell it to you. A 

 nice Htle bit of meat is selected from 

 the loggers' lunch pail and tied to the 

 end of a ''skid." A "skid" is quite a 

 heavy pole some sixteen feet in length 

 and is used for rolling the logs upon 

 the rollway. The "skid" is then lain 

 across a convenient log so that it nearly 

 balances. The trap is now set for the 

 unsuspecting bird. A w^orkman hides 

 behind a nearby rollway with a heavy 

 ax or maul in his hand. Soon the 

 "Camp Robber" espies the meat and 

 alights upon the end of the "skid." No 

 sooner does he begin picking at the meat 

 and trying to carry it away than the 

 man with the ax strikes the other end 

 of the "skid" a powerful blow. Of 

 course the end upon which the bird is 

 sitting flies up and the bird himself is 

 tossed several yards into the air. This 

 process is repeated as often as there are 

 birds about, or until the "boss" calls to 

 the men "all out," which means that 

 the men must resume work, the noon- 

 ing hour being spent. 



It is said that these birds are always 

 found about the haunts of the moose, 

 and some have called them "Moose 

 Bir,ds." I very much doubt if this 



be true, though I cannot say that it is 

 false. I am inclined to think that dur- 

 ing severe winters they may frequent 

 the "yards" of moose or other animals, 

 but that they follow after any particu- 

 lar band of animals, is subject to a 

 great deal of question in my mind. 



I never could understand why the 

 bird was sometimes called "Whiskey 

 Jack." There certainly never was a 

 more sedate bird and one as little given 

 to garrulity. His whole demeanor is 

 one of the greatest reserve. You would 

 suppose that he was expecting to attend 

 his own funeral the ver^^ next minute. 

 Then why call him "Whiskey Jack?" 

 Major Charles Bendire suggested that 

 it might be a corruption of the Indian 

 name for the bird. You had better look 

 up that Indian name and see if you can 

 see any similarity. I can. 



It is a pretty difficult matter to find 

 the nest of this bird. I have looked for 

 them several times but only once did I 

 meet with success. I don't know that you 

 woulci call it a success, either, unless 

 you call seeing a whole row of "Camp 

 Robbers" sitting on a limb with the old 

 ones at the head, success. I was riding 

 along a mountain trail with my eye out 

 for anything in the bird line when I saw 

 one of these birds. He was flying 

 through the timber leisurely, seemingly 

 without any particular object in life ex- 

 cept to kill time. Now, I have learned 

 enough about birds to know that when 

 they appear to be the least interested, 

 right then is when they have something 

 of grave importance on their minds. I 

 kept close watch on our friend in gray 

 until I saw him alight in the top of an 

 immense fir and gradually begin to hop 

 downward, limb at a time. By keeping 

 him in view I was permitted to see the 

 whole family at home — that is, near 

 home. The young ones had left the 

 nest — there were five — and w'ere sun- 

 ning themselves not far from it. The 

 nest itself was situated near to the 

 trunk of the large fir and seemed to be 

 built entirely of moss. I continued on 

 my way, leaving the family w-atching me 

 until I was far out of sight. 



Charles S. Moody. 



181 



