The Cassin Purple Finch 



He is an ardent lover, too. Once, upon hearing the note of a female 

 Cassin Finch — she was seeking food and very intent upon the job — I gave 

 attention and saw as pretty a sight as one could wish to see. A male in 

 resplendent red plumage lighted on the ground beside the dull-colored 

 female — or, more strictly speaking, he lighted at a distance of about two 

 feet — and gave a coaxing squeak of singular intensity. Meanwhile, his 

 crest was erected until it shone like a diadem of rubies, and he stood with 

 outstretched wings quivering in an ecstacy of passion. The female made 

 a spiteful run at him, whereupon he flashed away, and resumed, always at 

 a distance of two feet. Again and again the play was repeated, the male 

 resplendent with ardor and the female not even coy, only spiteful. Alas! 

 for the untimed ardors. Alas! for the love that wakes too soon — or sleeps 

 too late. 



The great business of the Carpodacine life (the three species are alike 

 in this) is nesting. This impression of the preponderating passion is 

 heightened in the case of the Cassin Finch by the irregularity of the nest- 

 ing season. Fresh eggs may be found at any time from June 1st to July 

 15th, and that, apparently, with little reference to the "breeding level" 

 (i. e., altitude of maximum activity for a given season) or the behavior 

 of neighbors. Here a love-lorn couple are playing with a few sticks, pre- 

 tending to build a nest — which as like as not they will presently tear down 

 and rebuild elsewhere — while yonder a pair of birds are feverishly attend- 

 ing a nestful of clamoring young. 



In choice of nesting sites great preference is shown for the lodge- 

 pole, or tamarack, pine (Pinus contorta). The nest is usually settled into 

 the upper whorl of branches of a sapling, say, twenty or thirty feet high, 

 or else placed near the tip of one of the lower branches of a full-grown tree. 

 Having in either case the most thickly leaved pine twigs to depend upon 

 for support, the outer structure of the nest is of the flimsiest character, 

 usually a mere filling up of irregularities. The lining — and some nests 

 are virtually all lining — is most carefully constructed and of highly varied 

 materials. Horsehair is a favorite wherever obtainable, but feathers are 

 rarely used. For the rest, fine grasses, rootlets or flower pedicels are 

 staples; shredded bark, deer- and rabbit-hair or chance bits of cotton of 

 rarer appearance. A pullet's nest is two and a quarter inches wide by an 

 inch and a quarter in depth inside. A mother in Israel requires a nesting 

 hollow three and a quarter inches wide by one and three-quarters deep. 

 A nest taken near our Mammoth Lakes camp we call "the souvenir" 

 because it contains, besides bits of cotton and hemp, a selection of human 

 hair, strands from Barbarita's golden locks, orthodox raven tresses in 

 abundance, and, I regret to add, a few threads of a compromising gray 

 which no one of our party would own to. Quite the handsomest nest in 



204 



