The Black-headed Grosbeaks 



fills his being. The wonder of life amazes him. The graciousness of 

 Mrs. G. is extraordinary. The eggs which she has deposited in the family 

 basket are nothing less than superb. So this doting, marveling, and alto- 

 gether amiable idealist sings as he works, sings as he contemplates his 

 offspring-to-be, the imprisoned mysteries within those walls of freckled 

 blue; and as he feels the warm, round wonders pressing against his 

 breast, he breaks ever and again into joyous song. 



Truth to tell, the singing of the male Grosbeak is the surest guide 

 to the nest, carelessly placed, midway, in bush or sapling. And if the 

 male is disturbed at his task, or if he hears the anxious cry of his mate, 

 this gentle bird has no recourse, again, but song. How does he do it, pour 

 out those tender, trustful notes of ecstacy, while the enemy is threatening 

 his dearest treasures? And yet, believe me, it is the most disarming pro- 

 cedure imaginable. One may overpower a snarling wild-cat. The bom- 

 bastic objurgations of a Long-eared Owl make nest-robbing a sacred duty, 



a challenge met and disposed of, but you 



cannot fetter a song — nor forget it. In 



extreme need, as when the young are 



nearly grown, I have known these 



Grosbeaks to raise a shriek of sharpest 



agony, a sound at once so terrifying 



and so pitiful that no one 



could wish to 



stay. It is 



Taken in Ventura County 

 From a Photograph, 

 Copyright 1014, by 

 Donald R. Dickey 



A MODEL SUBJECT— FEMALE GROSBEAK ON NEST 



the master cry of distress, and at the sound of it all the lesser songsters of 

 the woods come pell-mell to the rescue. 



The nest of the Black-headed Grosbeak is of singularly light and 

 open construction, evidencing, as we suppose, the habit of the tropics, 



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