May, 1909 
93 
SWARMING OF THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET 
By J. W. PRESTON 
W HEN the endless come and go and care and worry of the city has tired one 
to the point of distraction, every fiber yearns for a change. How welcome 
the day when care may be cast aside! Such a time came to me last June. 
Early, while the mists floated leisurely up from a hill-hemmed lake, and mountain 
shadows fell heavy and long over the lower forests, and the sun toucht with 
glory some distant gleaming peaks, I wended my way across the foothills, up onto 
the shoulders of the mountains, past towering rocks from whose caves and crannies 
came the flute-sweet notes of the Rock Wren; while distant, circled a screaming 
hawk, startled from its nest on a dead fir tree. At the crest of a ridge a brood of 
Nutcrackers croakt their garrulous scoldings. 
There, as the cool mountain winds moved among the dwarft pines, was a 
clear view of the city and the river winding far into the great dim mountains. 
Here a trail led to a deep tangle of thicket and steep, rocky hills where the wild 
deer live during the summer months. How the crisp mountain air buoys you up 
with unwonted vigor and energy! What a change from the dust and din, way 
jmnder on the paved and noisy streets! 
At this elevation the Clarke Nutcracker nests, and here also a company of 
Western Evening Grosbeaks were nesting. From here I hastened down into the 
valley of a little brook which hurried along over stones and roots, in and out of 
mossy nooks, over which grow a dark mass of hemlock, fir and cedar, making a 
dense, shadowy dell, with pools and cress beds and mossy stones and logs, over 
which a Varied Thrush hurried to safety. The song of a Vireo lent charm, while 
wild flowers added their sweetness. 
While quietly seated on a rock, enjoying the scene, I was suddenly aitackt by 
a female Ruby-crowned Kinglet showing nest-worn conditions of plumage. She 
flew at my head in a most determined manner uttering an alarm-cry which for the 
size of the bird was strong. She most thoroly scolded me and by her persistent 
crying called up an interesting and interested company of birds: The Olive-backt 
Thrush, Louisiana Tanger, several species of Warblers, Western Chickadee, Red- 
breasted and Pigmy Nuthatches, a Brown Creeper, a pair of Rocky Mountain Jays 
and several Vireos — what a medley of bird voices! Some were scolding for dear 
life, some were happily singing their sweetest while others merely craned their 
necks and peered about to see where the trouble was. But the little Kinglet was 
the most interested of all. From her perch on a dead twig not ten feet from me 
she showed all the charms of her graceful birdship. If I moved the least, she was 
right up and after me. 
Soon the male Kinglet came, with a moth in his bill. He seemed to think 
there was no cause for worry and hopt on up a white fir tree, from branch to 
branch, until, fifty feet from the ground, he stopt at a mossy ball of a nest suspended 
from the top of a bough six feet out from the tree. Then he was off again in search 
of food. By this time the mother Kinglet had subsided and was peering here and 
there among the bunches of needles and under inviting pieces of bark. Gaining a 
mouthful of moths and bugs, she too ascended the tree to the nest, and back and 
forth they went in quick succession, for their brood was numerous and hungry. 
For an hour I sat watching the interesting family. It seemed to be swarming 
time at their house. Some of the little fellows had successfully gotten out and 
down some distance from the nest, while a busy lot were peering out over the rim 
and grasping onto the sides, but, fearful, they crawled back to the nest shelter, where 
from seven to eight were trying their first wings all at once, in fear and trembling; 
this was a charming little episode of bird life. Then as the mountain shadow came 
chill, all was quiet as the blue sides of the distant hills. 
Spokane , Washington . 
