THE CONDOR 
V..1. IV 
7S 
Vocal Powers of the Yellow-billed Magpie. 
!!V H. R. NOACK, OAKI.AXI), CAI,. 
M y acquaintance with the yellow- 
billed magpie {Pica nuttalli') be- 
gan eight years ago while I 
was visiting near WMieatland in Placer 
County, and through the niediuni of 
two members of the family has continued 
from that time to the present day with 
a constantly growing feeling of friend- 
ship and an unconcealed admiration for 
the intelligence, good nature, and native 
good humor hidden beneath their little 
coats of black and white. 
It was on June 3, 1895, that I was 
riding horseback through a grove of 
white oaks v\ith ni}" eyes e-pen for aii}'- 
thing that might turn up, when I 
noticed a magpie’s nest about thirt}" 
feet ujr, and well out toward the end of 
the limb. After a rather hard climb I 
came within four feet of the nest, and 
was pretty well aware by that time that 
it was inhabited, judging by the vocif- 
erous cries of two old birds who came 
swooping down uncomfortably near my 
head. A good sharp shake of the 
branch in which the nest was located, 
brought forth a screaming cloud of 
young, fairly well feathered, and in 
fact just old enough not to venture from 
the nest unless disturbed, but about the 
right age to consider seriously the de- 
sirability of trying a short flight. I 
counted seven young birds, and after 
considerable scrambling captured one 
and forced two more down to the grass 
below, where the}' were easily taken. 
After getting them home and safely 
caged I found that instead of being at 
an end my troubles had only begun, for 
whenever I came within sight three big, 
red, gaping mouths opened automati- 
cally and spelled in words that could 
not be misunderstood — “Gra.sshopper.s — 
more grasshoppers.” The remainder of 
my vacation was given over to the care 
of my charges, and they responded so 
welt that one died during the first week 
but the remaining two grew fat and 
were not contented out of my sight. 
P^pon returning home in July a large 
wire cage with plenty of flying room 
was provdded, more as a precaution 
against cats than as a preventative of 
escape, and the two magpies, John 
Henry and Hattie, settled down to civil- 
ized life. I had heard a good deal said 
and had read accounts of the talking 
equalities of crows, ravens and magpie.^, 
but scarcely believed that the native 
magjfles of our state would develop this 
power. However, 1 was very agreeably 
surprised and much amused one morn- 
ing about three months after the cap- 
ture of the magpies to be greeted by 
John Henry with the words “come on.” 
He had learned his first words by hear- 
ing them used during feeding time. He 
used this phrase daily for several 
months and later added his own name 
and said, "Come fin John.” 
From the time of learning his first 
words he learned new expressions very 
rapidly, and without any effort on my 
part to teach him. After hearing “Come 
on John,” he began calling my name 
“Harry” which has always been his 
favorite utterance, and is pronounced 
in an endless variety of tones from a 
shrill treble voice to a deep gutteral 
expression seeming to emanate from far 
down in the throat. After “Harry” he 
learned “Hattie,” the name of his mate, 
and “Helen,” the name of one of my 
sisters. The family living next door 
had a very lively member in the person 
of a son named George, and hismother’s 
calls soon taught John Henry to call 
“Georg-ie” with so much facility that 
Georgie would come running to see 
what was wanted. 
Our stable is within fifty feet of the 
magpie’s cage and my brother, who was 
acting as hostlvr, was often about ready 
to swear when hitching up or currying 
the horse, when John Henry would 
cluck to the horse, “ck ck ck,” and then 
say, “Get up, Peter, get up, get up,” 
following immediately with “Whoa h( y. 
