THE BLUE JAY. 



( Cyanocitta cristata . ) 



Perhaps we have no better living 

 example, in a negative way, of the old 

 proverb that "Handsome is as handsome 

 does" than is afforded us by the Blue 

 Jay. Certain it is that he proves in a 

 striking manner that to be handsome is 

 not always to be popular, and that about 

 as fine a bunch of feathers as can be put 

 together may fail somewhat in making 

 a particularly fine bird. 



This is not meant to imply at the outset, 

 that the Jay is a thoroughly bad bird ; 

 indeed, that is not at all the general 

 notion people entertain of him. He is 

 generally looked upon as a clown rather 

 than a villain, and the attitude of most 

 people is to laugh at him rather than to 

 thirst for his blood. The most striking 

 characteristic of the Jay is awkwardness. 

 His flight is rather heavy and lumbering, 

 only a sort of makeshift to take him out 

 of danger to another scrub tree ; and 

 those of mankind who have longed to 

 soar, have never wanted Jay's wings to 

 do it with. His method in alighting is al- 

 most laughable; his impetus almost 

 throws him off the branch, and he teeters 

 ridiculously awhile, much as some of the 

 herons do. He reminds one a good deal 

 of the officer who "used to quit his 

 charger in a parabolic way" and whose 

 "method of saluting was a joy to all 

 beholders." 



Another conspicuous trait of the Jay, 

 perhaps the predominant one, is the 

 diversity of his ways. One of the great- 

 est of curses, the curse of versatility is 

 upon him, and so he is among birds, a 

 jack of all trades and -a master of none. 

 He can do many things, but none of 

 them well. He can make shift to hunt 

 among leaves on the ground as ground- 

 birds do. In autumn, tree top high, in- 

 dustriously hammering at an acorn, he 

 makes a sound like a woodpecker's tap- 

 ping and he bobs his head much the same 

 way. In summer he skulks in stealthy 



flight through the green covert like a 

 detected criminal, and makes "jay-bird" 

 sound more than ever like "jail-bird." 



He is as versatile in voice as in action. 

 Few of our birds, if any, have so large a 

 vocabulary. In spite of the great range 

 of notes of the brown thrasher or the 

 mocking-bird, a trained ear can usually 

 very quickly associate the note with the 

 bird. The Jay, however, has in his rep- 

 ertoire a lot of calls undreamed of — 

 quite likely many of them are wholly 

 extemporaneous, as some passing mood 

 prompts him. Some of his calls, as his 

 clear "linnet, linnet," of summer days, 

 are really pleasing to the ear, and the soft 

 garrulous undertones he uses in the 

 spring, while having confidential chats 

 with his mate, are not at all disagree- 

 able. He has two calls, hardly either of 

 them to be represented by letters, which 

 everybody recognizes. Beside this, he 

 can imitate the cry of a hawk to perfec- 

 tion, and occasionally does so, perhaps 

 for the fun of seeing the smaller birds 

 hunt cover. He is a great tease, and 

 seems to have no sort of use for the 

 screech owl, and the tirade he carries on 

 when he finds the latter bird snug in a 

 hollow tree, is a vocal performance nearly 

 everyone can recognize at once. Besides 

 the calls enumerated the bird has many 

 more, and when the bird-student hears a 

 new voice in the woodland that he has 

 never heard before, particularly if the 

 voice is not musical, he will for a dozen 

 times or so edge noiselessly toward the 

 sound, his heart palpitating, and every 

 sense alert for the glimpse of some new 

 rare bird. After that he will simply 

 make note of another Jay. It may be 

 that this general knowledge of the bird's 

 range of noises, rather than actual expe- 

 rience, has given rise to the opinion 

 that if a Jay's tongue is split he can learn 

 to talk. Perhaps, too, it is because the 

 Jay is with us all the year, without being 



191 



