November, 1902. | 
THE CONDOR 
127 
nothing. The song still resounded just 
beyond the next screen of foliage, and 
even our most seductive “squeaking” 
failed to lure the distrustful thrush. 
And then we fell under the spell of 
that song again and felt a sense of re- 
lief that we had not shot any thrushes. 
We even questioned whether the Com- 
mittee could make any ruling that 
would really affect that song, or the 
color or the wing-length of the bird. 
So we wandered off and shot harsh- 
voiced jays to make a “series” less hurt- 
ful to our soft consciences. 
The coast jays {Cyaiiocitta stelleri car- 
bonaced) were fairly numerous though 
keeping down in the canyons, where 
they were most noticeable about clear- 
ings. Two other birds of the Santa 
Cruz isohumic area were also here, but 
only sparingly represented. These 
were the Point Pinos junco {Junco 
pinosus) and the Santa Cruz chickadee 
{Parus barlo 7 vi). Along the upper edges 
of the redwood tracts, among the tan- 
bark oaks, lutescent warblers 
thophila celata lidescens), pine siskins 
{Sphius pinus), and California purple 
finches {Carpodacus piirpureus calif orni- 
cus) were common. About some tall 
dead trees western martins {Prague 
subis hesperia) and violet-green swal- 
lows ( Tachycineta lepida) were flying. 
A single olive-sided fly-catcher {Canto- 
pus borealis") from a lofty perch uttered 
its two-syllabled call; while far over- 
head circled a pair of golden eagles 
{Aquila chrysaetosl) 
We thought ourselves fortunate in 
meeting with several owls, those elus- 
ive birds of twilight. Pacific horned 
owls {Bilbo virginianus pacificus) were 
frequently started from their day time 
roosts in shady groves. The one shot 
gave evidence of a truly reprehensible 
trait, for under its perch was a headless 
screech owl {Megascops asio ben dir ei) 
and a young one at that. Owl-eating 
owls have been reported before, but we 
will hope that the habit is not general. 
Following up a trail leading- from the 
woods to an open stretch of pasture 
land above, one of our party discovered 
a family of pygni}'^ owls {Glaucidium 
gnoma calif ornicumi). There were at 
least three young besides the parents, 
all perched in a madrone, though not 
all seen until they took flight. An 
adult was shot and the rest scattered, 
flying swiftly off into the shady depths 
of the redwood foliage below. We sup- 
posed them lost to us altogether, until 
upon returning some hours later, we 
heard near the same spot a strange cry, 
a sort of shrill whinnying call. We 
stopped in silence for some minutes, 
peering about through the trees, until 
the note was repeated and shortly ans- 
wered. Finally a little owl was located 
perched motionless on a horizontal red- 
wood twig, in plain sight after one 
knew where to look for it. This proved 
to be a nearly-fledged young, and the 
note we had traced was evidently the 
juvenile food call of this species, which 
is known to be more or less diurnal in 
its habits. 
Besides the birds I have mentioned, 
many others were seen in the Little 
Sur countr}^ but those above named 
were the most interesting to us, and 
best serve to indicate the avifaunal 
complexion of the two zones of the re- 
gion. The Sur River Valley looks like 
a miniature counterpart of the Big Ba- 
sin in the Santa Cruz mountains, 
seventy-five miles to the northward. 
This interesting region has only been 
written upon once before in a general 
way. In the Osprey, Volume V, Sep- 
tember-Uctober 1900, pages 6-7, occurs 
an article by Milton S. Ray under the 
caption of “Idle Hours at Idlewild or 
Observations in Central Monterey 
County.” This consists of a running 
account in rather desultory style of the 
birds seen by the author during two 
weeks in June in the vicinity of the 
Little Sur River. Among the forty 
species mentioned by Ray are eight 
which our party failed to find. Three 
or four of these eiglit are unexpected. 
