Dusky, Gray, and Slate-colored 
underneath, that also extends under the wings. Inner vane 
of several tail quills rusty red. Bristles at base of bill. 
Range—From Mexico, Central America, and West Indies north- 
ward to southern Canada and westward to the plains. Most 
common in Mississippi basin; common also in eastern 
United States, south of New England. 
Migrations—May. September. Common summer resident. 
The most dignified and handsomely dressed member of his 
family, the crested flycatcher has, nevertheless, an air of pensive 
melancholy about him when in repose that can be accounted for 
only by the pain he must feel every time he hears himself screech. 
His harsh, shrill call, louder and more disagreeable than the king- 
bird’s, cannot but rasp his ears as it does ours. And yet it is 
chiefly by this piercing note, given with a rising inflection, that 
we know the bird is in our neighborhood ; for he is somewhat of 
a recluse, and we must often follow the disagreeable noise to its 
source in the tree-tops before we can catch a glimpse of the 
screecher. Perched on a high lookout, he appears morose and 
sluggish, in spite of his aristocratic-looking crest, trim figure, 
and feathers that must seem rather gay to one of his dusky 
tribe. A low soliloquy, apparently born of discontent, can be 
overheard from the foot of his tree. But another second, and he 
has dashed off in hot pursuit of an insect flying beyond our sight, 
and with extremely quick, dexterous evolutions in midair, he 
finishes the hunt with a sharp click of his bill as it closes over the 
unhappy victim, and then he returns to his perch. On the wing 
he is exceedingly active and joyous; in the tree he appears just the 
reverse. That he is a domineering fellow, quite as much of a 
tyrant as the notorious kingbird, that bears the greater burden of 
opprobrium, is shown in the fierce way he promptly dashes at a 
feathered stranger that may have alighted too near his perch, and 
pursues it beyond the bounds of justice, all the while screaming 
his rasping cry into the intruder’s ears, that must pierce as deep as 
the thrusts from his relentless beak. He has even been known 
to drive off woodpeckers and bluebirds from the hollows in the 
trees that he, like them, chooses for a nest, and appropriate the 
results of their labor for his scarcely less belligerent mate. With 
a slight but important and indispensable addition, the stolen 
nest is ready to receive her four cream-colored eggs, that look as 
if a pen dipped in purple ink had been scratched over them, 
73 
