The Brown Towhees 



:..... 



of 450,000 vocabulary en- 

 tries. Saddest of all, this 

 overworked note must do 

 duty for song. For this pur- 

 pose it is furbished up a bit, 

 brightened, intensified, and 

 aspirated, till it sounds like a 

 sibilant squeak. The singer 

 mounts a bush or tree-top, or 

 the comb of a roof, and with 

 uttermost ardor delivers him- 

 self of such sentiments as 

 these, tsick tsick tsick 

 tsick tsick. Listen! O ye 

 Muses, and pause, Satyrs, in 

 your mad gambols. Orpheus 

 will smite the lyre again: 

 Tsick tsick tsick tsick 

 tsick. He is dead in earnest, 

 too, this country Jake turned 

 minstrel. As he concludes, 

 his body quivers and his tail 

 beats flail-like with his un- 

 wonted exertion. And one 

 good lady (she of the endless 

 regurgitations) likens this 

 song to "the tinkle of a 

 silver bell"! 



The male bird is a mas- 

 terful lover, and he will vin- 

 Great fights ensue, and not a 

 These encounters characterize 

 be a recrudescence of hostile 

 activities in late summer as well. Perhaps the young blades are asserting 

 themselves. Such a fight occurred in our yard in the early morning of 

 August 28th (191 1). Whether it was a contest between old males, or 

 merely young fellows trying out their strength, I could not determine. 

 At any rate, there was intermittent onset of long duration, and as often 

 as the duellists set to, they were accompanied, or mobbed, by four others, 

 all squeaking at once at the top of their voices. The squeaks in this case 

 were something dynamic. They were shrieking squeaks; and six birds 

 squeaking in concert made a fine hubbub — quite too much for that last 



406 



Taken in Pasadena Photo by Donald R. Dickey 



EXAMINING THE BAIT 



dicate his claims against all comers, 

 few in which bodily injury is done, 

 early springtime, but there seems to 



