The Western Chipping Sparrow 



The nest with young figured here was found on the 15th day of June 

 in the Yosemite Valley. It was placed four feet up in a wild rose thicket, 

 and not over five feet from the main traveled road. The day threatened 

 to be an unusually warm 

 one, and already at nine 

 o'clock in the morning 

 the mother bird was 

 found standing upon the 

 brim of the nest shield- 

 ing her chicks, with out- 

 stretched wings, from 

 the sun's rays. At ten 

 o'clock, when we re- 

 turned with the cameras, 

 the situation was worse, 

 heatwise, but at that I 

 had to tear away the 

 cover to get enough light 

 on the nest. The mother 

 bird returned presently, 

 and finding the heat in- 

 tolerable, fluttered and 

 crowded until she had 

 forced the last baby out 

 of the nest and down the 

 stem where there was 

 shade. One youngster 



got the idea too thoroughly and disappeared in the depths of the bushes, 

 but the other three we succeeded in coaxing up one by one until they 

 would sit decently upon the hand. They would not "look pleasant, 

 please," and were decidedly relieved when the ordeal was over and they 

 could bolt into the shade. They simply would not stay in the nest even 

 when the sun declined. That tie was broken. The mother bird re- 

 peatedly settled into the nest and made coaxing sounds, though whether 

 with intention to induce a return on the part of her erring youngsters, or 

 merely to deceive me, I could not tell. As she sat thus, the male parent 

 lighted on the side of the nest and offered to feed, but he was promptly 

 driven away by his mate with manifest reproaches for his stupidity. 

 Seeing the jig was up anyway, the mother hunted up her favorite son, 

 snuggled close, and settled down to a defiant nap. 



Taken in Mariposa County Photo by the Author 



"THEY WOULD NOT 'LOOK PLEASANT. PLEASE' " 



JOS 



