Jan., 1916 
FROM FIELD AND STUDY 
33 
upper part of Strawberry Valley, the nest being at an altitude of approximately 7500 
feet. It was discovered on July 4, and contained four small young. The parent bird 
was flushed from the nest. The second discovery, on July 5, was of a deserted nest, 
found in Dark Canyon, on the Banning road, northwest of Strawberry Valley. 
On September 14, 1914, the present writer saw two Solitaires on the slopes of San 
Jacinto Peak, between Round Valley and the summit, and in September, 1915, Mr. L. E. 
Wyman tells me he collected three of the birds in Tahquitz Valley, and saw several 
more. These, of course, might all have been migrating individuals. 
The breeding record of Messrs. Howard and Lelande is of especial interest as 
establishing the presence of the species at the extreme southern limit of the Boreal zone 
in California. Previous to this the Townsend Solitaire was known to breed in southern 
California only in the San Bernardino Mountains (Grinnell, Univ. Calif. Publ. Zool., vol. 
5, 1908, p. 128). — H. S. Swarth, Museum of History, Science and Art, Los Angeles, Cali- 
fornia. 
Auburn Canyon Wren, a Preferable Name for Catherpes mexicanus punctulatus.— 
We have no recourse against misnomers in scientific nomenclature provided they estab- 
lish priority; but it is silly to perpetuate in common speech the trivialities, or whimsi- 
calities, or downright misapprehensions, of original describers. I have no quarrel with 
Mr. Ridgway for having named a new race of Catherpes, punctulatus. He had to name 
it something and he may have been struck at the time with an aspect of his new bird 
which later experience proved not to be distinctive. At any rate in his latest descrip- 
tion (Birds of North & Middle America, Part III, p. 659), Mr. Ridgway does not even 
refer to this feature of punctateness. He merely says of C. m. punctulatus-. “Similar in 
small size to C. m. conspersus but decidedly darker”. 
This darker coloration, then, is the point to emphasize, and the point which should 
have been brought out in nomenclature (doubtless would have been if 6 runneicapillus 
had been accurately descriptive or had not already been worn to. a frazzle in the service 
of the Wrens), instead of a purely hypothetical dottedness. Now, every one who knows 
this jolly mountaineer of California, knows that his coat is of a rich auburn hue. To 
call him “Dotted” by preeminence, is to imply that his conspecific associates are not 
dotted, or not as conspicuously dotted as he, which is not at all the case. To cling 
to such a misconception or false emphasis merely for custom’s sake is to repeat the 
offense and to be unscientific. I propose, then, as a designation both suitable and dis- 
tinctive for the California bird the name Auburn Canyon Wren. 
This same method of criticism may be applied to several other cases, fortunately 
only a residual few among Western bird-names. The name “Long-tailed Chat” for 
Icteria virens longicauda is technically correct; the bird has a longer tail than its east- 
ern relative, a third of an inch longer! but no one would ever have seized upon such a 
trivial mark for a name, save in ignorance and sheer despair. Besides, the western 
bird has half a dozen other distinctive characters just as palpable. And there are only 
two Chats. For pity’s sake and for the sake of our own good sense, let us cease to 
brandish this extra third of an inch on a bird’s tail. Call it the Western Chat. 
As another instance of the poverty of attention or laziness of invention, behold 
our literal translation of Rallus levipes, the Light-footed Rail, of course! And because 
of this flippant character (whose claims it would take a two-pound can of printers’ ink 
to successfully define anyway), we are suffered to forget that the southern bird is a 
Clapper Rail. But “Light-footed Rail” does sound well. It flicks the imagination and is 
undeniably romantic. It almost picks the pocket of my prejudice. Light-fingered Rail 
would do it quite. Moreover, the name as it stands has a market value. Why, the skin 
of a “Light-footed Rail” sounds twice as expensive as would the skin of a Southwestern 
Clapper Rail with its implied taint of subspecificness. I have neither skins nor eggs 
myself, but I withdraw my objection in this case in favor of certain worthy friends, 
worthy and needy. 
Remains only one sticker in the writer’s dyspeptic crop, the “Ashy” Petrel, Ocean- 
odroma homochroa. The bird simply isn't ashy. It is plumbeous black. The man of 
only ordinary intelligence picking up a waif Petrel on the strand out of range, has to 
consult his books to know whether his find is really an “Ashy” Petrel, or a Black Petrel 
(0. melania). No amount of nomenclatorial abuse heaped upon this bird will ever make 
its plumage recognizably cinereous. Why not call it, then, after the worthy man who 
discovered it, “Coues” Petrel? — William Leon Dawson, Santa Barbara, California. 
