98 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 
the undergrowth for a nest, though getting near enough to set her 
chipping for her mate. Then they both tried to lure me away, his gay 
coat serving well at such a juncture. When they had drawn me out 
by the haycock they stopped fussing at once, quite content, and she 
flew off for more insects while he fell to singing his bright cheery 
summer song. 
One morning as I went out through the hotel yard, what was my 
surprise to see an Evening Grosbeak sitting on the fence. Quite 
unafraid, it flew down into the grass and hopped about, standing high, 
as if drinking dew drops from the grass blades. It was evidently a 
young one, for, in contrast to its big yellow bill, its body looked very 
gray, and when it flew its wing markings were much restricted, 
while an adult male who flew with a small band of Grosbeaks from 
the trees below the garden had not only the yellowish olive body set 
off handsomely by yellow forehead, black wings and tail, but a white 
wing patch that fairly hit the eye. Another of the band when in a 
tree facing My way was almost lost in the green background. For 
several days the plaintive single whistle and the beaded note of the 
flock were often heard about the hotel in the early mornings, and the 
lovely birds were sometimes caught sight of aggressively disappearing 
in the edge of the forest. 
Here the split vibrant note of the Varied Thrush was occasionally 
heard until the time when family cares became all engrossing. The 
second week in July a pair of Sierra Creepers were feeding young in 
their tree trunk nest. Western Flycatchers were carrying food in the 
greenery, Juncos were feeding grown young out of the nest, and a 
family of young Golden-Crowned Kinglets were being fed in a low 
growth of the white fir. The full Kinglet song, ti-ti, ti-ti, followed by 
still shorter notes, with a Warbler jumble for termination, was also 
heard at this time. Among the somber-hued Creepers, Juncos, Fly- 
catchers and Kinglets, it was a keen pleasure to catch a glimpse of 
the flashing gorget of a Rufous Hummingbird as it darted about in 
the clearing. 
Inside the timber jolly little Western Winter Wrens came up and 
sang their tinkling songs in friendly fashion, then disappeared secret- 
ively in the dark shadows. Loquacious Coast Jays and a family of the 
delightfully fluffy camp Jays, friends of the woodsman, were seen in 
the treetops in passing. Small bands of Chestnut-backed Chickadees 
trailed through the tree tops and solitary Woodpeckers tapped on the 
tree trunks or flew silently about through the timber. A female 
Pileated Woodpecker which came bounding down to a tree trunk full 
of life and spirit, through a sad misunderstanding, was shot, and the 
loud laments of her mate, which echoed through the forest for several 
days, bore touching testimony to the belief that these noble birds 
remain mated through life. After listening in vain for the Slender- 
billed Nuthatch at Tillamook Bay, it was good to find him here, the 
sweet far away henk, henk, in the stillness of the high bolled conifers 
falling with light, harmonious touch upon the ear. 

