70 
THE COXDOR 
Vol. XVI 
pin-point clots of reddish at the larger end. The set was very tender shelled, and 
was prepared for the cabinet with considerable difficulty. 
During the day I noted a pair of Slender-billed Nuthatches (Sitta caroiincn- 
sis aciilcata), which Barlow has not recorded, and also my first Turkey Vulture 
(Cathortcs aura sepfentrioiialis) . This, however, Barlow has listed as not un- 
common. In deer brush eight feet up, I found a nest of the California Bush-tit 
(Psaltripanis minimus calif ornicus) , with eight well-incubated eggs. 
Some distance away I flushed a Calaveras Warbler {V ermivora ruHcapilla 
gutturalis) , but on reaching the spot, after a careful search, I was unable to locate 
any nest. When almost half an hour had elapsed the bird returned, and after 
many roundabout flights, finally flew to, and disappeared in, a thick patch of 
weeds. Advancing very slowly, I succeeded in flushing the bird almost at my 
feet, from a nest that was placed at the foot of a small deer-brush shrub ancr 
completely arched over by pine needles. The nest held five eggs in an advanced 
stage of incubation, and was made outwardly and almost entirely of cedar bark, 
mixed with a few pine needles and with a lining of fine rootlets, fine wire-like 
grasses and hair. It is worthy of note that it contains no soap-root fibre, which 
Barlow mentions as being usually the principal material. 
Next day. May 22, I found but one nest of particular interest, beside the 
usual number of common ones. This, a Thick-billed Sparrow’s, was three feet 
up in deer brush, newly completed, made of twigs and rootlets, and lined with 
bark strips. Towards evening I flushed a Tolmie Warbler {Oporornis tolmici) 
from an extensive patch of brush, but it grew dark before I could locate the nest. 
The following morning. May 23, I excavated, near the hotel, a nest of the 
Red-breasted Nuthatch that I had noted the birds drilling on May 13. Now, 
though ten days had passed, it contained no eggs, although the nest proper was 
completed. The call of this bird resembles nothing so much as that to which 
Mr. J. R. Pemberton has compared it, those little toy Christmas horns or bugles 
the note of which is not over loud and rather mellow. The bird’s call note is 
almost identical with this, and the striking similarity serves to readily identify it. 
My short stay had now drawn to a close, and it was very reluctantly that I 
packed for departure, for never had Fyffe, this outpost on the frontier of the 
great Sierran forest, appeared more fair. May streams wandered through banks 
of wild flowers and grass-carpeted woods, where dog-wood trees with their pro- 
fusion of snowy-petaled blossoms were everywhere conspicuous amid the giant 
pines, firs and cedars. And, too, unlike the oppressive warmth of late June or 
July, the weather now was cool and pleasant. 
Nor was it Fyffe alone that I regretted leaving, for to the east lay a region 
that offered even greater temptation. Every day now automobile parties, cam.p- 
ers or trampers were heading along this famous pioneer road to higher altitudes, 
to Slippery Ford, Echo, Summit and Lake Tahoe. Resort keepers, or cattle- 
men with their herds, went by, old time friends among them who offered the use 
of saddle-horse or a seat in some slow-moving caravan to make the journey east- 
ward ; but unfortunately my way lay in the opposite direction. Ncr was it long 
(before my conveyance rolled up to the door. Grips aboard, a few hasty fare- 
wells given, and we were soon bowling along the park-like road to Placerville. 
San Francisco, California, December 12, 1913. 
