Aug. 4, 1894.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
93 
produced but one with his ability it would still be a rich 
era in poesy; and yet, many a "mute inglorious Milton" 
or Scott may live or die, lacking encouragement or op- 
portunity, and the world is a loser. 
Perhaps in the past the Forest and Stream has had a 
"poet's corner" and found it burdensome, and that now- 
adays it winnows out all chaff too closely, but if it en- 
couraged rhymesters I should think the crop of verses 
would be prolific, at the least. I have been watching its 
columns, and when some very unpretentious poets bpgin 
the trouble, look out for my papers. This country lacks 
poets; it should have lots or them. Money-getters and 
millionaires die and go, we know not where, and your 
practical, "chained to business," matter-of-fact, every- 
day, rich nondescript, will pass with his years; the poet 
never dies. I could give you a longer and wider category 
of reasons in support of poetry, but this will do for my 
preamble. I will cease now. That is, for the present. 
Ransacker. 
P. S. — T only resume to add a few words. Of course 
you know your business, but 1 do not think it would be 
wise or encouraging to charge poets your regular adver- 
tising Tates for the publication of their contributions. 
R. 
Shtst& Mountains, Cal. 
SIERRA NEVADA FOOTHILL BIRDS. 
Auburn, Cal. , June 28. — One lovely day in the early 
part of June, while driving through the woods and 
orchards of our hills, listening to the merry voices of the 
birds and noting their engaging ways, I said to myself,"I 
will share this pleasure with my friends of the Forest 
and Stream." In accordance with that resolution I will 
write up my notes of that day, as it was one of excep- 
tional richness in observation, and will show a glimpse of 
bird life in our foothills. 
The day was an ideal one, even for this ideal climate, 
and every feathered creature was full of joyous anima- 
tion. I was soon struck with this fact, and after my pro- 
fessional visit was made, I began taking notes, on my re- 
turn journey, and here is the result. The more common 
birds were noted first, and the list will be headed by the 
omnipresent 
California Jat (Aphelacoma californica). — This bold 
but sly thief and robbsr is one of our commonest 
birds, and is a permanent resident. His shrill, rasping 
cry of ska-a-a! ska-a-a! can be heard in our fields and 
roads at all seasons. Under the fiercest rays of the pitiless 
August sun he can be seen pursuing the nimble grasshop- 
per, and in the drenching winter storms he seems equally 
happy, overturning bits of bark, or investigating out-of- 
the-way nooks for lurking insects, acorns, worms and 
other "small deer" that go toward makiug up a hungry 
bird's dinner. At this time of year he is very busy rear- 
ing his young, and levies tribute on all around him. The 
eggs and tender young of other species are favorite food, 
and this failing makes him a detested pariah among other 
birds. He is a coward, and depends upon his cunning to 
attain his ends. He will sit around and watch some nest 
he has discovered until the owners are absent; then he 
will stealthily and silently pounce upon the contents and 
be off in a moment, as quietly as he came, but he will 
leave a rifled home and shattered hopes behind. If dis- 
covered he is easily kept at bay, even by as small a bird as 
the Arkansas goldfinch, but is persistent in his efforts to 
despoil a nest of its treasures, once he has discovered it. 
He levies tribute on nearly all kinds of fruit and nuts, 
carrying off nuts by the bushel. A few jays will soon 
strip an almond tree of its crop, and will often carry them 
off and drop them through a knot hole in some hollow 
tree, whence they can never be recovered. This is a bit 
of foolishness that I cannot understand. It appears to be 
a kind of forethought in the bird, a laying up of food for 
future use, but it is not wisely done, as our friend el car- 
pintero does it with his acorns. On this particular day 
the jay is busy carrying, off cherries, and nearly every one 
of the birds I noted was either going to or returning from 
the cherry trees. In the former case with many raucous 
cries, and in the latter, silently, with a cherry or" two held 
by the stems. Yes, they are thieves and robbers, and 
worse, but they fill a part in nature, and destroy much 
that would prove destructive to the interests of the horti- 
culturist. Let them live. 
Brown Finch, or California To wheeBuntino (Pipilo 
fuseus crissalis). — This bird is known locally as the cat- 
bird, for it, has some semblance in size and color to that 
species. It is probably the commonest bird of the foot- 
hills and can be seen everywhere where chaparral flour- 
ishes. It haunts the brushy thickets, where it makes its 
nest — a large, loosely constructed affair— but it is yet a 
comparatively social bird, having but little fear of man. 
It has a flirting, uneven flight, and is a very silent bird. 
In the mating and nesting season the male has a kind of 
irritating cry, which he no doubt considers good music. 
It consists of a shrill, staccato note, which is rapidly re- 
peate . The following is a pretty fair immitation of the 
song— if it can so be called. Strike the piano-forte key C 
in alt and you will pretty nearly have it: Tit! tit! tit-tit- 
til-tit! tit! The bird is a ground-feeder, living chiefly 
upon the seeds of the chaparral. 
Western Meadow Lark (Sturnella magna neglecta).— 
This pleasing songster is abroad in force to-day, singing 
his "What do you think of me?'' from every fence 'post 
that stands above its fellows. This meadow lark, so 
beneficial to the husbandman, is greatly persecuted in 
the interior valleys of California. It is persistently 
hunted for the market, where it sells under various 
names, sometimes even passing as quail. It is an easy 
prey to the gunner, its flight being straightaway. 
California Helmet Quail (Callipepla californica).— 
At this season the quail almost ceases to utter his charac- 
teristic call of po-ta-to, po-taa-to, po-taaa-to, but the 
male can be heard on all sides giving utterance to a single 
cry of quwa-a-k as he stands on some eminence near the 
home of his lady love, keeping watch and guard against 
the marauding enemies of his household. At other times 
he will jump upon some low limb or boulder and with an 
odd up-and-down movement squeeze out a kind of wheez- 
ing call. I never could make out exactly what he meant 
by this. It does not seem to be a note of warning, of 
assurance to his mate, nor of challenge to his enemies. 
From his actions whpn uttering it, I have fancied it a 
note of derision, as I never have heard it unless the bird 
could see me plainly and I had no gun in my hands. 
Mourning Dove (Zenaidura macroura). — On every 
hand the mournful notes of the wild dove could be heard, 
and so tame were they that I could almost touch some of 
them with my whip. It always seemed a sacrilege to me 
to see one of them killed. In these hills they are entirely 
harmless, although in the valleys they destroy a great 
deal of seed wheat — so the farmers say. 
Arkansas Goldfinch (Spinus psattria).— This bright 
and cheery little bird is very plentiful in these foothills 
the whole year round. No pleasanter sound can be heard 
on a warm February day than the concert given by a 
flock of the dainty songsters when congregated on the 
sunny side of a live oak tree. Their song is not a sus- 
tained one individually, but a flock can produce an in- 
teresting and most pleasing effect. I have heard captives 
of this species that could sing almost as well as a canary. 
Their vocal powers seem to be improved by caging. 
They are locally known as the California canary. 
House Finch (Carpodacus frontalis). — Also called 
burion, crimson -fronted finch and linnet. This is one 
of the commonest birds of California. It is a cheerful, 
alert little fellow, with a pleasing warble which seems 
to be without beginning, middle or end. Its song just 
begins where it left off, and ends where it began. It 
loves the vicinity of man. and will nest and raise its 
young in the vines covering our porches, within reach 
of the outstretched arm, as we sit in our chairs. It is 
especially hated by the cherry grower. It always man- 
ages to have its brood hatched when the cherries come 
in, and raises them almost entirely upon the fruit. Its 
habite are exasperating, for it goes from cherry to cherry, 
taking one or two pecks at each, and never satisfied to fill 
its crop with one. It will never go back to an injured 
cherry, but will invariably attack the sound ones. As the 
cherry is a delicate fruit and unfit to pack or ship after 
its skin is broken, one can readily see what a nuisance to 
the fruit grower the bird is. With cherries at high prices 
in the markets, the lives of finches are not at a premium 
in this locality. Nevertheless they continue to increase 
and multiply, and to maintain their confidence in human 
friendship. They prefer the mulberry to the cherry, and 
as these fruits ripen simultaneously, the horticulturist 
could protect his cherries by a. fringe of mulberry trees 
around them, and thus all could live. 
Bullock's Oriole (Icterus bullocki). — This feathered 
dandy is also a very common bird with us, and like the 
preceding, is hated by the cherry grower. It is so like the 
Baltimore oriole that no description is needed. In song, 
character and habits he closely resembles his Eastern 
cousin. 
Hooded Oriole (Icterus cucidlatus). — On this particular 
day I sa w another variety of the oriole sometimes seen in 
this portion of the State. This bird is not described by the 
authorities as resident in Calif ornia north of theTehachipi 
Mountains, but I have never failed to see it here during 
each season. It is, however, a rare variety; but it un- 
doubtedly breeds here, for I have observed them all through 
the breeding season. They are among the handsomest of 
our feathered friends, and their flight through the green 
foliage is like the flash of a flame in the night. 
California Woodpecker (Melanerpes formieivorus 
bairdi). — Called by our Spanish friends el carpintero. 
I have given this bird's description and habits in a past 
issue of Forest and Stream, and will pass him lightly. 
It is very common, and resident with us. It will also steal 
cherries, but, like the jay, it carries them off bodily, and 
leaves no injured ones behind. It also attacks apples, but 
I believe that it takes only the wormy ones. In hunting 
for the worms, it may have developed a taste for the fruit 
itself. At any rate, it does far more good than harm to 
the orchardist, and should be rigidly protected. 
Nuttall Woodpecker (Dryobates nuttalli).—lp. the 
drooping limb of a white oak by the roadside is a little 
round hole, and out of that hole protrudes a black head, 
spotted with white, which I recognize as belonging to a 
female of this species. This bird is fairly common and 
quite sociable with man. In the winter season it is com- 
mon in our yards and gardens, pecking a.way for an 
honest living amid the noise of town or city with the 
utmost unconcern. 
Red-Shafted Flicker or Mexican Flicker (Oolaptes 
cafer). — This is a common variety of the woodpecker in 
the foothills, if woodpecker it may be called. In all 
respects, excepting coloration, it is a counterpart of the 
Eastern flicker, living here, as there, chiefly upon ants. 
Its coloration is far richer, the under surface of the wings 
being very beautiful. The outer web of the wing prima- 
ries makes a very killiner trout fly, which I have used with 
marked success on our Sierra streams, and which I have 
ventured to name after the bird — the flicker-hackle. 
Arefar. 
[to be concluded next week ] 
Flying Squirrels as Pets. 
I discovered an old flying squirrel in a dead stump; 1 
caught her by stopping up the hole through which she 
entered her nest, and sawing off the top of the stump, 
I brought it home and tied it to the wall in a small room, 
which I used at one time for an aviary. I carefully cut 
out a square piece from the back of the stump, and held 
this piece in place by wire, so that I could easily look into 
the nest. I was surprised on the second day to find five 
young squirrels in the nest, and was still more surprised 
to find that the mother, wild and frightened as she was, 
continued to raise her young ones in captivity. She was 
very cro?s, and I had to wear heavy gloves to push her 
from the nest when I wished to see her young ones. She 
rarely came out to feed until evening. The squirrels did 
not open their eyes for nearly three weeks. Soon after 
that they began to scramble around outside. I had great 
difficulty in feeding them; for I could find nothing they 
liked, except hickory and hazel nuts. I let the mother 
go, for she did not seem to enjoy captivity, but the young 
ones became tame and thrived well. I would like to 
hear if any one knows anything about the food of the 
flying squirrel. Mac. 
Green-Winged Teal Hatched in Confinement. 
Cold Spring Harbor, N. Y., July 26. — I have just 
hatched the first green- winged teal ever hatched in con- 
finement. Fred Mather. 
NESTING OF THE WILD PIGEON. 
In the first article on pigeon netting by "F. E. S.," he 
speaks of the species as laying two eggs in a nest as the 
regulation number. While his articles contain much 
information, and have proved good reading, he evidently 
failed to take careful observations on many habits. 
It is a fact that many ornithological writers have spoken 
of the passenger pigeon as depositing two eggs at a set- 
ting; but these men were evidently not accurate observers, 
or quite probably took their records at second-hand. Un- 
fortunately a few of our earlier naturalists recorded some 
of the nesting habits incorrectly, and these notes have 
been copied to our detriment for many years. 
There is no doubt that two eggs are sometimes found in 
one nest, and occasionally these eggs are both fresh or 
are equally advanced in incubation. But these instances, 
I feel sure, are evidence alone that two females have de- 
posited in the same nest, a condition which not rarely 
obtains with those species which nest in colonies. 
I cannot dispute, and can say that I do not doubt, that 
.he wild pigeon may rear two or three young during the 
3eason. An old trapper and observer, an acquaintance of 
mine, who claims that the pigeon lays but one egg at a 
clutch, offered this explanation. He said that when the 
first egg is about ready to hatch, or has hatched, the old 
bird of the nest lays a second egg, and that the squab 
assists in incubating the second egg. Later a third egg is 
laid. This habit may have existed, and I have made ob- 
servations which confirm it; however, at the present day 
no one can dispute the assertion, as there is no way to dis- 
prove it. 
Out of the many nests I have carefully examined, and 
watched for days, I have never found two eggs in one 
nest. Only once did I find an egg occupying a nest with 
a half-grown young one. A friend, an observing hunter 
and painstaking egg collector, examined over one hundred 
nests in Cheboygan county, Michigan, and never found 
more than one egg in a nest. As the nests are so shift- 
lpssly built that one can look through them from below, 
there is no doubt of his note. He took over fifty eggs for 
preservation, and though many of them were well ad- 
vanced in incubation, yet two eggs were not found to- 
gether. 
Besides my experience in the field in several parts of 
this State, the privilege of watching some captive birds 
were also given me. These birds were educated stool- 
pigeons, which were kept from year to year by their 
owner, who was a netter. They were very tame and 
bred in security in the little buildings, but never set on 
more than one egg. 
The mourning dove, often mistaken for the pigeon, 
lays two eggs habitually. The ground dove and white- 
fronted dove also lay eggs in pairs, and others of the 
American pigeons, as well a^ the common tame dove in- 
troduced from the Eastern Continent, lay two eggs. But 
our now nearly extinct passenger pigeon lays a single 
ege\ and. there is no accurate observation to the contrary. 
There are many notes on this species which would in- 
terest many of your readers, but space does not permit. I 
will close by saying that the last rookery of any size, 
where the pigeons npsted in numbers, was visited on May 
9, 1880, and occupied cedar treps, while the last nest that 
met my notice was placed at 40ft. from the ground in a 
tamarack in the woods in the southern part of the State. 
The date was June 1, '84. Morris Gibbs, M.D. 
Kalamazoo, Mich. 
[Captain Ben dire, in his splendid work on North 
American birds' eggs, the first volume of which, recently 
published, includes the pigeons, gives the eggs of this 
species as one or two. The only nest seen by us for many 
years contained two eggs.] 
WOODCOCK AT HOME AND ABROAD. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Some years ago much was said concerning the wood- 
cock in Forest and Stream. I am not a crack shot, 
neither have I bagged many of these birds, but I love 
ornithology and delight to watch the frolics of birds in 
the summer time. I would, to-day, introduce game birds 
into our State were the laws more stringent. I have often 
heard the woodcock whistle. 
I once let loose some quail in the woods about Hamp- 
den, Me., and during my guarding over the birds I hap- 
pened to come across a nest containing two woodcock's 
eggs. I marked the spot with a stake with a little phos- 
phorus so as to illuminate the upper end of the stake, in 
order that I might find the nest at night and capture bird 
or birds, and I did capture both the birds that night, and 
kept them for a while. 
After a week's captivity they grew melancholy, and a 
few days later they presented a drooping appearance. 
One day I opened the cage door and took good hold of 
the larger bird's bill between my thumb and forefinger 
and gently drew it forward, whereupon it commenced to 
whistle. I took the bird outside of the cage and tried the 
same method. I soon learned the noise or whistling was 
produced through the nostrils of the bird. I have never 
"heard a woodcock whistle when flushed by a dog; the 
bird only whistles when it leaves cover unmolested. 
Dr. T. P. Morey. 
Bangoh, Me. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
The inclosed extract from an old book (Fairholme — 
"Observations on Woodcock and Fieldfares Breeding in 
Scotland," Magazine of Natural History, edited by Ed- 
ward Charlesworth, Vol. I. (N. S.) 1837, pp. 337-338, Re- 
fers to the English Woodcock, Philohela rustica.) may 
interest some of your readers in connection with the 
question of the spring "song" versus the "whistle" of our 
woodcock (Philohela minor): 
"I spent the greater part of 1885 in Aberdeenshire, 
where occasional instances have long been known of 
woodcocks in summer, but not in such numbers as may 
now be seen. In the woods of Moneymusk and Castle 
Forbes nests have from time to time been found. It was 
at the latter place and during a late evening walk in an 
extensive oak wood, with hazel and other brushwood, 
that my attention was first particularly called to this sub- 
ject. It was quite in the dusk when I heard at intervals 
a low croaking so much lite that of frogs, that, attrib- 
uting it to that cause, I took no further notice of it; but 
on a subsequent evening I found that instead of on the 
ground this croaking was overhead, and ptoc< eded from 
a bird on the wing. The flight was so heavy and slow 
that I at first imagined it was an owl or a goatsucker, the 
