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THE CONDOR 
VOL. XII 
and hit the stump a resounding thwack — but there was no answer. No Chickadee 
responded to rude and repeated summonses. Violet-green Swallows there were, 
however, darting about the top of the stub, and altho it was early in the season for 
them, it seemed worth while to investigate. The stump was some twelve feet high 
by one and one-half feet in diameter and destitute of bark, — as slick as grease and 
impossible to climb outright. So sticks of various lengths were cut and leaned 
against it. By and by the Chickadee’s fortitude failed her and she emerged, chat- 
tering disgustedly. 
This nest was unusual. An old knot-hole about eight feet up had been re- 
workt by the birds, and gave access to a large cavity half filled with rotten punk. 
This cavity the Chickadees had undertaken to fill up to the level of the entrance 
with mosses, cow-hair, and other soft substances. The nest proper was, therefore, 
deeply cupt in the center of a level expanse of this material some seven inches in 
diameter, and the six fresh eggs which it contained had quite the handsomest frame 
in the annals of Chickadee art. 
The Violet-green Swallows had nothing to offer beyond a feather-lined cavity. 
Here was luck enough, however, for one stub. When the Chickadee’s eggs were 
stowed away in the bursting can, and the homeward course begun, it was high 
noon — the meridian of a red letter day. Science? Not a bit of it! Luck! Sheer 
luck, all of it! 
But to show that fortune has no favorits in the bird business, I must epitomize 
another day. On the 21st of May I returned to this same range filled with the 
highest anticipations, and prepared to camp, if need be, for a week. Weather con- 
ditions were perfect and myself apparently in the highest spirits. Work began at 
4 a. m. and the quest was pursued unremittingly till 5 p. m. Hermit Warblers 
abounded and Black-throated Grays challenged from every other tree, with lesser 
breeds in proportion — yet never an egg did I find, and I went home disgusted at 
the end of a black day. Psychological conditions? Perhaps. “Luck ’, certainly. 
Brothers, we are gamblers. Rouge ct noir! 
A SUMMER TRIP TO THE NORTHERN SANTA BARBARA ISLANDS 
By G. WILLETT 
O N the evening of June 4, 1910, a party of Cooper Club members, composed 
of V. W. Owen, Antonin Jay, J. S. Appleton and the writer, left San Pedro 
on the 32-foot launch “Niedra”, Capt. E. R. Hall, for a two weeks’ trip to 
the four northern islands of the Santa Barbara group. 
Our expectations were to canvass the four islands thoroly from an ornithologi- 
cal standpoint; but owing to inclement weather our operations were mostly con- 
fined to the islands of Anacapa and San Miguel. We were able to land on Santa 
Rosa for a couple of hours only, and we past by Santa Cruz entirely. 
We arrived at Anacapa Island at 8:00 a. m., June 5. Black Petrels and Dark- 
bodied Shearwaters were common at sea and near the arch rock at the extreme east 
end of the island two pairs of Xantus Murrelets (. Brachyramphus hyftolcucus) were 
seen on the water. We were unable to find any nests of this bird; but I believe 
that it may occasionally breed on some of the islands of this group. 
Tufted Puffins, Baird and Farallon Cormorants were breeding on the cliffs and 
