March 2, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
275 
January Bird Noies. 
Delanson, N. Y., Feb. 22. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Winter came with the new year, a full 
month late, announced by unusual signs and 
portents. Late on the afternoon of the 5th the 
mercury passed below the zero mark. The west 
wind roared, driving a fine snow before it, the 
frozen elms and maples about the house 
strained and creaked. At intervals during the 
night we heard the nails draw suddenly in the 
studding with a muffled report, like small guns 
firing the first salute to the season. The cold 
tightened its grip on the 6th. On the morn¬ 
ing of the 7th the mercury was eight degrees be¬ 
low at seven o’clock, and at nine o’clock it had 
risen only two degrees. The sun shone dimly 
through a falling snow as fine as frost. Two 
bright sun-dogs were visible, one on each side 
of the sun. I heard a goldfinch going over, and 
but for that I should have missed the snow bow, 
tinted with summer colors, that curved away 
from the sun, the span of the inverted arch be¬ 
ing near the zenith. The sky soon cleared, but 
as day declined, the sun just before its setting’ 
shone on a bank of ragged clouds in the south¬ 
west. Straightway all the colors of the morn¬ 
ing reappeared there in shreds and patches with 
intensified brightness. Where watchers further 
west beheld a perfect bow, to me appeared the 
wreck of one, its fragments tossed by restless 
winds into that quiet corner of the heavens. 
A few days later I read of a similar phe¬ 
nomenon seen at Greeley, Col. “The spectacle 
was so unusual,” so ran the newspaper account, 
“that it attracted the attention of almost every 
one in the vicinity.” I turned to Thoreau, re¬ 
membering how perserveringly he read the face 
of the sky and found that he recorded but one. 
On Jan. 7, 1852, exactly sixty years ago, he 
wrote: * * + “Now * * * j sgg sun 
descending into the west. There is something 
new, a snow bow in the east, on the snow 
clouds, merely a white bow, hardly any color 
distinguishable. But in the west what incon¬ 
ceivable crystalline purity of blue sky * * * 
and I see feathery clouds on this ground, some 
traveling north, others directly in the opposite 
direction, though apparently close together. 
Some of these cloudlets are waifs and drop¬ 
pings from rainbows, clear rainbow through 
and through, spun out of the fibre of the rain¬ 
bow, or rather as if the children of the West 
had been pulling rainbow (instead of tow), that 
had done service, old junk of rainbow and cast 
it into flocks.” 
Although January broke the record for con¬ 
tinued cold, it was a better month for the birds 
than some that I remember. There were but 
a few inches of snow, hardly enough for good 
sleighing, and weed seeds have been available 
at all times. Snow buntings have been numer¬ 
ous in the upland fields. It is one of the ex¬ 
hilarating incidents of a January walk to see a 
flock of these birds come rippling down the 
wind in unison and turn sharply about to face 
the storm and alight, each bird completing a 
perfect shepherd’s crook of flight as it settles 
among the weeds. I never saw so many flocks 
of goldfinches. For variety we had a pair of 
red polls in the garden one day, probably 
stragglers from some large flock. On the 22d 
a woodchopper reported a robin in Wilbur’s 
woods, and on the 23d I saw a pair of juncos, 
the first I have observed in January since 1909. 
Crows we have always with us. Small flocks 
go westward every morning, sometimes a long, 
thin procession, flying low to distant pastures 
on Oak Hill or along the Schoharie, returning 
by midafternoon high over head, taking ad¬ 
vantage of the prevailing winds. One morning 
a deeper snow than usual, glazed with a spatter 
of rain, completely buried the fields, and I saw 
but one of all the host, flying to and fro like 
Noah’s raven or some dark dove looking for 
a bare knoll in the white waste. 
I have thought sometimes that the chickadee 
was a weather forecaster, having advance 
knowledge of snowstorms with Mr. Todd, of 
Albany. Who has not heard this little bird’s 
whistled prediction, “Knee-deep, knee-deep,” 
and if, as during January, his predictions were 
unfulfilled, it was only because the weather was 
too cold for a deep snow. So, too, I like to 
imagine that the nuthatch has advance in¬ 
formation regarding the rare, spring-like days 
that occasionally come to us in mid-winter. 
On the afternoon of the i8th I was busy on 
the woodpile, when a pair of nuthatches in the 
dooryard elm went suddenly into ecstacies of 
delight. • All the chickadees on the premises, a 
half dozen or more, and two downy wood¬ 
peckers, were attracted to the scene by their 
extravagant conduct. How long the entertain¬ 
ment lasted I do not know,but the nuthatches still 
held their audience when I went into the house. 
There was something in the atmosphere that 
afternoon, although the weather was quite cold, 
that gave the wooded hills far and near, a skyey 
look, and I was not surprised that we had the 
only thaw of the month on the following day. 
I have taken great pleasure these cold days 
in the visits of the downy woodpeckers. Look¬ 
ing from the west window, I often have two of 
the birds under observation, and by going to 
another room and looking out on the veranda 
to the east, I usually find another. I'he male 
downy is as ungallant as ever, losing his temper 
many times a day and flying at the female in 
a rage, where she sits patiently waiting her 
turn at the fresh pork that hangs by the window 
casing or in the nearest tree. I was sur¬ 
prised to hear him beat his spring tattoo on 
the 2ist of the month, and every day thereafter, 
even when the thermometer registered zero, ft 
is usually late in February when he begins to 
drum, and sometimes March. 
The male does not do all the drumming, how¬ 
ever. On the afternoon of the 28th I heard 
a drummer in one of the roadside maples, op¬ 
posite the house. It was such a cold, dreary 
day that I went out to see what manner of bird 
had invoked the spirit of spring. The drum¬ 
mer was a female, the drum a stub of dead 
branch and not of the best material, for she 
seemed to have trouble with it. It was amus¬ 
ing to see her move a few inches, change the 
key without improving the tone and suddenly 
leave off in the middle of a tattoo to begin all 
over again in another spot. When she struck 
the proper place at last, her head moved with 
the precision and rapidity of a piece of ma¬ 
chinery. But I heard no answering drum. 
Will W. Christman. 
Birds of California. 
San Francisco, Cal., Feb. 20.—Editor Forest 
and Stream: Joseph Grinnell, of the department 
of vertebrate zoology of the University of Cali¬ 
fornia at Berkeley, recently delivered a lecture 
on midwinter birds of the university campus in 
which he said that the campus covered an area 
of about 530 acres, and that only the species 
that had been recognized by himself had been 
listed, and that all of these had been seen on 
the university grounds. An estimate places the 
total avian population of the limited area in 
question at 10,000 individual birds. 
Permanent Residents.—California quail, Western red¬ 
tailed hawk, sparrow hawk, barn owl, California screech 
owl. Pacific horned owl, willow woodpecker, red-shafted 
flicker, Anna hummingbird, black phoebe, coast jc-ty, 
California jay, Western meadowlark, Brewer blackbird, 
California purple finch California linnet, green-backed 
goldfinch, pine siskin, English sparrow, Nuttall sparrow, 
rufous-crowned sparrow, Santa Cruz song sparrow, 
spurred towhee, California shrike, Hutton vireo, Cali¬ 
fornia thrasher, \’igors wren, plain titmouse, bush-tit, 
intermediate wren-tit. 
Winter Visitants.—Sharp-shinned hawk. Say phoebe, 
crossbill. Western Savannah sparrow, intermediate spar¬ 
row, golden-crowned sparrow. Sierra junco, Yakutat fox 
sparrow, ctedar wax-wing, Audubon warbler, Townsend 
warbler, pipit. Western winter wren, red-breasted nut¬ 
hatch, Western golden-crowned kinglet, ruby-crowned 
kinglet, Sitka kinglet, Townsend’s solitaire, dwarf hermit 
thrush, varied thrush. Western robin. 
Summer Visitants.—Turkey vulture, Allen humming¬ 
bird, olive-sided fly-catcher. Western wood pewee. West¬ 
ern flycatcher, bullock oriole, willow goldfinch, Law¬ 
rence goldfinch. Western lark sparrow. Western chip¬ 
ping sparrow, black-headed grosbeak. Lazuli bunting, 
cliff swallow. Western warbling vireo, Cassin vireo, 
lutescent warbler, California yellow warbler, MacGilli- 
vray warbler. Golden pileolated warbler. Western house 
wren, russet-backed thrush. 
Transients.—Black-crowned night heron, killdeer, long¬ 
tailed chat. 
Summary.—Permanent residents, 31; winter visitants, 
21; summer visitants, 21; transients, 3; total, 76 species. 
Golden Gate. 
Robins Abundant. 
Raleigh, N. C., Feb. 24. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: The second snow, the deepest this sea¬ 
son, has gone. From Raleigh eastward it was 
heaviest. No sleet fell upon it. Sleet followed 
the first snow and covered a wide area. Reports 
do not show that either of the snows caused the 
death of much game. In the first place there 
were always sheltered places for the birds, and 
secondly there was a store of wild food for 
them. Great numbers of robin,s were killed soon 
after the first snow fell, they having made their 
appearance with the snow, so to speak, but their 
numbers seemed to increase, and never in all 
the years since I can remember have they been 
so plentiful. The State law permits' the killing 
of robins up to the first of March, they being 
classed as game birds. They are only killed by 
negroes and a few boys, for sportsmen do not 
shoot them. Large quantities of field peas were 
planted last season and many of these were left 
unpicked. Quail are very fond of this food. 
Fred A. Olds. 
