The raven wanders over the entire Territory, but is much less 

 conspicuous and familiar in the interior than on the coast. It is 

 resident; and Nelson gives a fine picture of the part it plays in the 

 terrible landscape and experiences of midwinter life amid the wastes 

 of the lower Yukon Valley. No crows reach this country, but the 

 rusty blackbird is a regular, although infrequent, visitor, extending 

 its breeding-range to the northern limit of tree-growth. 



Finches and Other Small Songsters 



The finch family, as would be expected, is numerously represent- 

 ed, some of those which haunt trees, as the grosbeaks, being among 

 the most abundant of Alaskan birds. The Alaskan pine grosbeak is 

 everywhere abundant and fearless all the year round. Grinnell 

 furnishes the best account extant of this very interesting bird: 



In September and October pine grosbeaks were quite numerous, being 

 often met with in companies of six to a dozen, immatures and adults together. 

 They were usually among the scattering birch and spruce which line the 

 low ridges. There, until the snow covered the ground, they fed on blueberries, 

 rose-apples and cranberries. During the winter their food was much the 

 same as that of the redpolls — seeds and buds of birch, alder and willow, and 

 sometimes tender spruce needles. In the severest winter weather they 

 were not often in the spruce, but had then retired into the willow beds. 

 The usual note is a clear whistle of three syllables. The native name, ki-u-tak, 

 represents it. Then there was a low, mellow, one-syllabled note uttered 

 among members of a flock when alarmed. Twice I noted solitary males, 

 when flying across the woods, singing a loud, rollicking warble, much like a 

 purple finch. One morning, the 18th of February, found me across the river 

 skirting the willows in search of ptarmigan. Although it was SO degrees 

 below zero, a pine grosbeak, from the depths of a nearby thicket, suddenly 

 burst forth in a rich melodious strain, something like our southern black- 

 headed grosbeak. He continued, though in a more subdued fashion, for 

 several minutes. Such surroundings and conditions for a bird-song like this! 

 Again one day in March, during a heavy snow-storm, a bright red male sang 

 similarly at intervals for nearly an hour, from an alder thicket near the cabin, 

 and as summer approached their song was heard more and more frequently. 



Not until May 2Sth did I discover a nest. This was barely commenced, 

 but on June 3rd, when I visited the locality again, the nest was completed 

 and contained four fresh eggs. The female was incubating, and remained on 

 the nest until nearly touched. The nest was eight feet above the ground on 

 the lower_ horizontal branches of a small spruce growing on the side of a 

 wooded ridge. The nest was a shallow aflfair, very much like a tanager's. 



. . The eggs were pale Nile blue with a possible greenish tinge, dotted 

 and spotted with pale lavender, drab and sepia. 



The red, or American, crossbill is extremely rare, and perhaps 

 does not occur at all north of the Alaskan Mountains ; but the white- 

 winged crossbill is to be seen everywhere that forests grow. It is 

 more familiar. Nelson tells us, than the pine grosbeak, frequently 

 coming low down among the smaller growth; and it is a common 

 sight to see parties of them swinging about in every conceivable 

 position in the tops of the cotton-woods or birch trees, where the 



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