The Mountain Chickadees 
outdoes its eastern cousin, Black-cap, 
justly renowned? or is it, rather, 
that it loves the high, thin air of the 
Sierras, and fears not the groans of 
dying glaciers, nor the outbursts of 
unseasonable atmospheric wrath? 
This, undoubtedly; for it takes the 
touch of adversity, well met, to 
bring out the admirable traits of 
bird character, as well as human. 
For myself, I have fallen in 
love with these brave midgets a 
dozen times over, and I hold my 
heart ever ready to cast at the feet 
of the next beady-eyed charmer who 
hops into view on a pine bough and 
lisps her name, “Sweet Baby.” 
Mountain Chickadees fear 
isolation as little as they fear cold; 
and although they move about in 
family troupes in autumn, and do 
not despise the wintry fellowship of 
juncoes and kinglets, they are not 
dependent, like Chestnut-backs ( P. 
rufescens), on the near presence of 
their kin. With the world before 
them, they enjoy plenty of “sea- 
room,” and nest anywhere, from 
two to three thousand feet—in Cali¬ 
fornia; a thousand will do in Wash¬ 
ington—to the limit of trees. It 
should be added, also, that they prefer open timber, especially pine, and 
varied cover; hence, they experience little temptation to invade the 
woodland fastnesses which are consecrate to Chestnut-backs. 
Family life is the keynote to appreciation of the Penthestine charac¬ 
ter, and while the writer cannot profess always to have deserved the 
confidence reposed in him, memory adverts to half a dozen scenes of 
Penthestine home-life, and conscience is untroubled by reproaches which 
were more like fairy blessings. 
The first occasion was the finding of a nest three feet up in a wild 
cherry stub. This contained fresh eggs on the 18th of May. Their 
color had been pure white, but they were much soiled through contact 
613 
Taken in San Diego County Photo by Dickey 
A BEADY-EYED CHARMER 
