es bat 
ch (+f. 24 THE CONDOR... : Vol. XXIII 
beak note, however, resembles the tanager call more closely than it does the 
thrasher call I spelled it prilly or prilleh. There is something musical or 
pleasing-to-the-ear in its timbre, as suggested in the letters ‘‘r’’ and **]”*, ue 
vowel sounds are easily determinable. In manner of delivery it is rather lively, 
and the expression is somewhat querulous or enquiring. 
As to the song, which I had opportunity to hear for many successive days, 
as sung both by ‘‘my’’ Grosbeak and by others in the same general vicinity: 
never, by any possible stretch of the imagination did I hear a song in the 
slightest degree bringing to mind the song of the Black-headed Grosbeak, 
which Ray (p. 178) says it resembles. It is utterly different in timbre, in form, 
in pitech—in every essential. The timbre of the Black-headed’s song is round 
and smooth and mellow; that of the Pine’s is vibrant and musically rough, or 
‘‘burred’’ in a silvery-toned sort of way. The song of the Black-headed is 
easy and fluent; that of the Pine is forced and fricative. In form I have found 
the song of the Pine Grosbeak far from the elaborate affair described by Ray. 
The very longest songs I heard were not ‘‘varied’’ to any notable extent, nor 
were they prolonged enough to contain a ‘‘series’’ of anything, let alone 
‘‘trills, warblings and mellow flute-like notes.’’ The typical song, so far as I 
have been able to discover, is a comparatively short ‘‘set song’’, in general 
form not unsuggestive of the warble of the Cassin Purple Finch. One song, 
recorded ‘‘from life’’, ran pree-pr-pr, pr-pr-pree? This is perhaps shorter than 
the usual song, yet not much so, I think. One bird ended its song always with 
«a brave pree-veur! in perfect imitation of the Olive-sided Flycatcher, this note 
standing forth when the rest of the song was damped out by distance. I do not 
know whether this appropriation of the Olive-sided Flycatcher’s call was pecu- 
liar to this one individual Pine Grosbeak or whether others do the same thing. 
Finally, the pitch of the Black-headed’s song is comparatively low, with a pre- 
ponderance of mellow ‘‘eu’’ sounds and others from the same general region. 
The pitch of the Pine’s is comparatively high, and is characterized throughout 
with long-e and short-i tonals, perpetuating themselves forcibly as if made to 
go with great pressure through a musically vibrating small orifice. 
Museum of Vertebrate Zoology, Berkeley, Califorma, September 8, 1921. 
FROM FIELD AND STUDY 
The Speed of a Flying Dove.—The automobile has, ere this, been the means of 
determining the approximate speed of birds (see CONDOR, xxII, p. 186), and once again 
it comes into play for the same purpose. 
The Western Mourning Dove (Zenaidura macroura marginella) is considered a 
fast-flying bird by sportsmen, and it has been said to attain the speed of sixty or seventy 
miles an hour. This has always seemed an extravagant speculation to me and I firmly 
believe it so now. That the bird is a difficult wing-shot is due to its erratic flight and 
small size (feathers not counted) more than to its speed. 
This was fairly demonstrated when, on July 28, 1921, I rounded a curve on the 
boulevard between San Jose and Oakland and almost ran onto a dove. The sudden 
appearance of the car and noise of the motor frightened the bird so that it crouched for 
a moment and did not flush until I was almost on top of it. At the moment it flew I 
slowed down a bit, but the bird was evidently frightened and confused for when it 
started off to the right, the approaching machine drove it back straight ahead, and an 
attempt to break to the left resulted likewise. The bird then settled down to the 
