12 THE CONDOR Vol. XX 



ten miles. Then it broadens out and its floor stretches from west to east lon- 

 gitudinally with but little slope for some six or seven miles, with a width of 

 from one half to one and a half miles, making the "floor" of the Yosemite Val- 

 ley. This floor is beautifully diversified by groves of cedar, yellow pine, Dou- 

 glas fir, silver fir, and golden oak, interspersed among which are little meadows 

 covered with green grasses, strawberry plants and wild flowers, and graced by 

 the presence of scattered deciduous trees, the principal of which is the moun- 

 tain black oak. In places are bushes of blackberry, choke cherry and "cascara 

 sagrada ' ', upon the berries of all of which certain birds love to feast. 



There is nothing in the way of topographical troubles to prevent the 

 birds of the plains and foothills from winging their way unobstructed into this 

 valley, whose elevation is only about 4000 feet. Were there a continuation of 

 their accustomed food all the way up the river canyon probably most of the 

 lower level varieties of birds would be found in the Yosemite in summer. The 

 sides of the valley, however, are wonderfully abrupt, and present a great bar- 

 rier to egress in a lateral direction, while upstream the valley narrows and di- 

 vides into canyons which quickly mount to vastly greater altitudes. As might 

 be expected under such conditions this valley is a meeting place for some of 

 the forms from both lowland and highland. This the writer has found to be a 

 fact in the fall season and it is reasonable to suppose that the early springtime 

 would also show such intermingling. Yet some varieties that one would natur 

 ally look for in this valley are either seldom seen, or absent altogether. For in- 

 stance, the nearly ubiquitous California Jay (Aphelocoma calif ornica) seems to 

 shun the spot, only one having been recorded during the six weeks of observa- 

 tion and none mentioned in the lists given above. Yet, in some localities, it 

 frequents much higher elevations, proving that it is not the altitude that deters 

 this species from occupying the floor of the valley. 



Bird life in the fall season is very far from being evenly distributed over 

 the valley. In a few limited areas a number of individuals may be seen in a 

 short while, yet there are vast spaces where a person might wander around for 

 a long time without seeing a single bird, and only hearing an occasional dis- 

 tant note. That is to say, this is the case at the time of year concerned in this 

 article, from mid- August to October 1. Judging from the stories of people 

 who have spent some time in the valley, and have taken a passing interest in 

 its bird life, there must be many more birds in evidence in the nesting season. 

 In fact old nests were found in places that were absolutely without bird life in 

 the autumn time. Even then there must be large spaces in the forest that have 

 few avian visitors, and for some unknown reason this seems to be the rule all 

 along the Sierras, though it would seem proper to assume that where there are 

 plenty of trees there must be plenty of insects, and that certain of the insecti- 

 vorous birds would keep pace with the food supply. On occasions, the writer 

 has wandered along through the woods and meadows for as much as an hour 

 and a half at a time, covering say three miles of territory, even in the early 

 morning on beautiful days, before catching sight of a single bird, and hearing 

 during that time but little other than the distant call of a woodpecker. Late 

 in September, however, there was such an influx of Red-breasted Nuthatches 

 (Sitta canadensis) that no one could travel far without hearing the queer little 

 indescribable notes of these diminutive but very busy bodies. Upon their first 

 arrival (that is, in increasing numbers, about the middle of September) they 

 were seldom actually seen, but later they were often met with feeding near the 



