Nov., 1921 187 
NESTING PINE GROSBEAKS IN PLUMAS COUNTY, CALIFORNIA 
By RICHARD HUNT 
N THE SUMMER of 1920 I went camping with a party of people, ten miles 
south of Biairsden, Plumas County, in the yellow pine and silver fir pelt 
at an elevation of 6300 feet. The country was attractive from the point of 
view of the vaecationist, with good hiking in all directions and many beautitul 
little Sierran lakes within easy ‘‘striking distance’’ of camp. My own mali 
idea, like that of the rest, was merely to have a good time, and no ornitholog- 
ical thoughts were uppermost in my mind; but I had not been in camp two 
minutes before I realized that we were in a region of California Pine Grosbeaks 
(Pinicola cnucleator californica). 
The tirst Grosbeak was pointed out to me as I arrived in camp with grip 
in hand. The bird was a male in red plumage, sitting motionless on a pine 
branch about 20 feet up, where it remained unconcerned while several of us 
walked round freely under the tree viewing our visitor from all sides. 
Early next morning I woke in my sleeping bag (see editorial note in 
Conpor, xxl, 1920, p. 161) and lay there scrutinizing the tree top world 
above me for bird life. I saw two Pine Grosbeaks fly to a lodge-pole pine sap- 
ling, and there was something business-like in their manner of flight that sug- 
gested nesting birds. When I was dressed I investigated and found the nest 
exacily where the birds had flown. They had not approached it by a ‘“‘triek’’ 
route as some birds do. The nest was 20 feet up, and contained three young 
almost ready to fly. This was on July 12. 
Since there were people in the party who would not have appreciated iny 
motives if I had ‘‘collected’’ the grosbeak family together with the nest, and 
since I myself felt that more might be learned by gathering what little ‘‘life 
history’’ material I could between hikes and other activities on the camp pro- 
gram, | adopted the ‘‘life history’’ policy. I began by putting in a good deal 
of spare time trying to get some photographs with the only ‘‘camera’’ I had, a 
‘“Brownie 1A Folding’’. I climbed a neighboring sapling to a level with the 
nest, and waited for the parent birds to come and feed their young. Two facts 
made this business harder than it sounds: first, the branches of the tree grew 
downward so sharply that my feet slipped off, and I had to remain in place 
by main hug of legs; second, the young were fed only about every twenty 
minutes. After much waiting and leg discomfort I snapped my kodak at an 
instant when both parents were perched on the rim of the nest feeding the 
young. It was a wonderful picture, the only trouble being that it never ‘‘came 
out’’! I “‘took’’ some more pictures too that were wonderful barring the fact 
that they did not come out afterwards. As a photographer I later realized that 
I was registering about zero percent. 
Three days later, July 15, the young left the nest. One of them disap- 
peared for good. Another was heard peeping in some alders bordering the 
camp for two days. The third fell into the hands of the philistines and more 
or less stayed in camp as general property for two days. For this I was re- 
sponsible, for I discovered the youngster about ten feet up in a small pine, and 
climbed up with my kodak, hoping that the parent birds would come with 
food. The female ventured near, but did not quite dare feed her baby, with 
me six feet away. So I caught the young bird, who made no effort to elude 
