120 
THE CONDOR 
1 Vol. IV 
pine-covered hills that surround the 
little valley. The mountain glades and 
wide pastures are edged with an open 
growth of oak, madrone and manzanita, 
— a veritable paradise for birds of a 
wood-loving nature, like the warblers, 
vireos and fly-catchers; while a small 
marsh bordered by willows gives a con- 
genial home to water-lovers, the red- 
wing, the song-sparrow, and the long- 
tailed chat. 
Bird music is to be heard in every di- 
rection, and the morning concert has no 
lack of star performers; the russet 
backed thrush, the western robin, the 
summer warbler, and the goldfinch be- 
ing prominent. But among them all 
there is no more joyous, exuberant or 
constant singer than the black-headed 
grosbeak. The thrush is surely a solo- 
ist, and chooses the silence of evening 
or the darkest shades of the laurel- 
gioves to transfigure with his golden 
chain of melody. But the grosbeak is 
not so exacting. He sings in the glare 
of the hottest noon, or in pouring rain; 
in the orchard or in the forest. His 
note seems the very voice of summer, as 
that there are too many of him. Their 
voices can be heard from every little 
nook and side canyon, answering each 
other, or more often singing all at once, 
for they do not seem to have time to 
listen to what the other fellow has to 
say. Each pair has its particular haunt, 
and most of them some individual pecu- 
liarity of note, by which it can be 
known that they stay about the same 
spot. One which lives in a thicket to 
the south of the marsh has as the cli- 
max of his song frequently recurring 
srtain of these notes, sung; 
Another has a double series of trip- 
lets, the second on a lower pitch, to 
which might be set the syllables bib- 
ble-y biib-ble-y. A third repeats all this 
well marked melody: 
^ 
if 
^ d-- 
1 J 
^ J 
1 f 
the song-sparrow’s is of the first spring 
day, of thawing brooks, greening mea- 
dows and budding willows. 
There is no minor cadence in his 
music. The rhythm is distinct, lilting, 
like a dance of fays. He delights to 
pour it out, swinging on an oak twig 
above your head, with the bright sun- 
shine lighting up his orange and black 
coat. At times he even shares the nature 
of the skylark in singing on the wing. 
I have seen one come winging across 
the hollow, airy spaces of the canyon, 
singing most gloriously all the way. 
The grosbeaks are the most numerous 
of all birds here. In fact if a fault is to 
be found with this merry fellow, it is 
If this bird were not such a merry, 
joyous singer, still his striking appear- 
ance and fearless, confiding nature 
should make him a favorite wherever 
he is known. His coloring is a striking 
combination of orange, black and pale 
yellow. The orange breast is the first 
thing to attract notice, contrasting as it 
does with the black head and back. 
Then, as he flits about, you notice the 
yellow lining of his dark wings, and 
and the yellowish wing-bars. His mate, 
as she broods on her nest, shows her 
affinity to the sparrows, protective util- 
ity having prevented the upper surface 
from developing such striking contrasts 
as in the case of the male. She has a 
