Mar., 1917 BIRDS OF THE HUMID COAST 51 



the young full grown but dingy breasted. When 1 spoke to the carpenter's 

 wife' about their being out so early she rejoined, "They're an early layin' 

 bird, ' ' which would apply equally to the Kinglets and Chickadees, all of whom 

 were seen with families early in June. 



IV. UP THE OLD WOOD ROAD 



An old wood road circled around from our clearing up along the foot of 

 the mountains through half cut timber to the next clearing where a New Eng- 

 land family were making a home, and from this road through the half open 

 woods many birds were to be seen. In the brushy edge of the timber where 

 ferns stood above my head, early in June I happened along at the rare moment 

 when a Golden Pileolated, who generally sings hidden away in the greenery 

 was impelled to proclaim his joy in the open, and oblivious of all passers-by, 

 oblivious of all but the song in his heart, beginning softly on top of a high stub 

 above me, flew singing more and more rapturously, more ecstatically from one 

 lofty perch to another. 



As the old overgrown road swung around a corner before entering the 

 woods, long arms of low Sitka spruces reaching to the light held out detaining 

 fingers. Beyond, a luxuriant growth cf salmonberry bushes leaned out over 

 the road, their long vine-like arms tossed so high that only winged birds or 

 children riding by could pick their luscious berries, berries curiously enough 

 both salmon yellow and raspberry pink, with a delicious flavor all their own. 

 On the other side of the road stood tall beautiful spikes of bright pink Canter- 

 bury bells, or fox gloves as the people of the country call them, at that time the 

 dominant flowers of the clearings. 



Inside the woods little disturbed by man, as its overgrown road testified, 

 the latter part of June I heard a second happy songster, this time a brown Win- 

 ter Wren with his inch of a tail tipped up at his back, singing on the moss} 7 top 

 of an upturned root. A companion Wren was clambering around over mossy 

 branches close by, and her mate's song was of every day home happiness, but 

 even so he sang so hard that his bill looked as if set wide open. Little Goldi- 

 locks and her two white dogs were running about and one of the Wrens looking 

 at the dogs gave a bob and disappeared. Whenever I passed that way after- 

 wards, I looked for them and sometimes caught glimpses of them or heard 

 snatches of song up the woods ; but in any case it was pleasant to remember 

 that they had been there, brown sprites of the dark shadowed forest. This 

 dense Humid Coast country is the chosen home of these cheery spirited little 

 birds whom no shadows have power to depress, and during the month of my 

 stay I located what I took to be five different pairs within the radius of fifty 

 rods which included most of my working beat. 



Along the woods road the dominant bird was the handsome crested Jay 

 with its smoky head and neck, turquoise underparts and dark blue wings and 

 tail. Its loud imperious check-ek-ck-ek-ek varied by a hoarse elia-elia-eha-clia- 

 cha often greeted me on entering the woods, and one would sometimes sail 

 down on outspread wings from tree to tree with a quick wh ecke r-whe eke r- 

 wheck'er, or perhaps give the crow-like 'cork-pulling' feerVVVVVV. When 

 one wanted to get to the top of a tree, instead of flying straight up as many 

 birds do, he would climb the winding stairs, a branch at a time ; and one that I 

 watched started near the top of a tall conifer and ran rapidly down his stair, 

 at its foot apparently giving a bite of food to his mate. 



