The Western Meadowlark 



The song of the western bird is sweeter, clearer, louder, longer and more 

 varied. The difference is so striking that we can explain it only upon 

 the supposition of an independent development. The western bird got 

 his early training where prairie wild flowers of a thousand hues ministered 

 to his senses, where breath of pine mingled faintly with the aroma of 

 neighboring cactus bloom, and where the sight of distant mountains fired 

 the imagination of a poet race. At any rate, we of the West are proud of 

 the Western Meadowlark, and would have you believe that such a blithe 

 spirit could evolve only under such circumstances. 



Bird song never exactly conforms to our musical notation, and there 

 is no instrument save the human "whistle" which will even passably 

 reproduce the quality of the Meadowlark's song. Nevertheless, many 

 interesting experiments have been made in recording these songs, and a 

 little attention will convince the least accomplished musician that there 

 is a fascinating field for study here. 



A formal song of the Western Meadowlark comprises from four to 

 a dozen notes, usually six or seven. The song phrases vary endlessly 

 in detail, yet certain types are clearly distinguishable, types which re- 

 appear in different parts of the country, apparently without regard to 

 local traditions or suppositional schools of song. Thus, a northern singer 

 says, Oku wheel' er, ku wheel' ef, and he may not have a rival in a hundred 

 miles; yet another bird across a mountain range sings, Eh heu, wheel' iky, 

 wheel' iky, or even Eh heu wheel' iky, wheel' iky, wheel' iky, and you 

 recognize it instantly as belonging to the same type. In like manner, 

 Owy' hee, rec'itative was heard with perfect distinctness in localities 

 three hundred miles apart. 



Each bird has a characteristic song-phrase by which he may be 

 recognized and traced through a season, or through succeeding years. 

 One boisterous spirit near Lake Chelan, in Washington, I shall never 

 forget, for he insisted on shouting hour after hour and day after day, 

 "Hip! Hip! Hurrah! boys; three cheers!" Another bird near Auburn, 

 in Placer County, amused us with his insistent Hick' o wee Willie Cook. 

 Yet, while this is true, no bird is confined to a single style of song. A 

 performer near Santa Barbara attracted notice by a rich, rolling Wheeeeeroo 

 wheeeeeroo, which baffled imitation by the palatal trill (whistled), which 

 the birds have taught the writer; but this intricate passage presently 

 gave place to the "regular" song, a perfect clarion burst of Hay oh hee 

 oh wee' erp. An autumnal soloist in a city park rendered no less than 

 six distinct songs or song-phrases in a rehearsal lasting five minutes. 

 He gave them without regard to sequence, now repeating the same 

 phrase several times in succession, now hurrying on to new forms, pausing 

 only after each utterance for breath. 



'3' 



