The case is somewhat similar with our Nighthawks (C. virginianus subsp.) and Sparrow Hawks (Falco sparverius subsp.), but the problem in these instances is further complicated by the opportunities of migration.
No. 107.
OREGON CHICKADEE.
A. O. U. No. 735b. Penthestes atricapillus occidentalis (Baird).
Synonym.—Western Black-capped Chickadee.
Description.—Adults: Similar to P. atricapillus but smaller and coloration much darker; whitish edging on wings and tail much reduced in area; “back varying from deep mouse-gray or very slight buffy slate-gray in spring and summer to deep hair-brown or light olive in fall and winter plumage”; sides and flanks pale buffy in spring, strong brownish buff or pale wood-brown in fall plumage. Length 4.50-5.25 (114.3-133.3); wing 2.44 (62); tail 2.20 (56); bill .37 (9.5); tarsus .66 (16.8).
Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; no white stripe over eye as distinguished from P. gambeli; back gray as distinguished from P. rufescens.
Nesting.—Nest: as in P. atricapillus, usually placed low in stump of deciduous tree. Eggs: as in foregoing. Season: April 15-May 15; one brood.
General Range.—Pacific Coast district from northern California to British Columbia (Port Moody).
Range in Washington.—Resident west of Cascades; characteristic of wet lowlands and borders of streams; intergrades with typicus on east slopes of Cascade Range.
Authorities.—Parus occidentalis Baird, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. pt. II. 1858, p. 391. (T.) C&S. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². ? Ss¹. ? Ss². Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. Prov. B. E.
Chickadees abound in Washington; and, because for the life of you you cannot surely tell whose notes you hear, there is a perennial necessity for levelling the glasses to make sure which is passing, Oregon or the Chestnut-backed. There are differences—Oh, bless you, yes—but then you always want to make certain, if only to pat yourself on the back and say, when you happen to have guessed correctly, “There, I knew it was an Oregon; I can always tell by its squeak.”
Chickadees are friendly little folk (and this remark applies, irrespective of species), so that wherever they go, except in the busy nesting season, they form the nucleus of a merry band, Western Golden-crowned Kinglets, Sitkan Kinglets, Creepers, Juncoes, Towhees maybe, and a Seattle Wren or two to guard the terrestrial passage, and to furnish sport for the federated fairies. The Chickadees are undisputed leaders, tho their name be legion. While they remain aloft we may mistake their dainty squeakings and minikin ways for those of Kinglets, but if we can only determine what direction the flock is pursuing, we may count on the vanguard’s being composed of these sprightly, saucy little Black-caps.
Chickadee refuses to look down for long upon the world; or, indeed, to look at any one thing from any one direction for more than two consecutive twelfths of a second. “Any old side up without care,” is the label he bears; and so with anything he meets, be it a pine-cone, an alder catkin, or a bug-bearing branchlet, topside, bottomside, inside, outside, all is right side to the nimble Chickadee. Faith! their little brains must have special guy-ropes and stays, else they would have been spilled long ago, the way their owners frisk about. Blind-man’s buff, hide-and-seek, and tag are merry games enough when played out on one plane, but when staged in three dimensions, with a labyrinth of interlacing branches for hazard, only the blithe bird whose praises we sing could possibly master their intricacies.
Taken near Tacoma Photo by the Author.
NEST AND EGGS OF OREGON CHICKADEE.
THE FRONT WALL OF THE CONTAINING STUMP HAS BEEN REMOVED.
But Chickadee is as confiding and as confidence-inviting as he is capable. It is precisely because you babble all your secrets to him at the first breath that the whole wood-side comes to him for news. With the fatuity of utter trust he will interrogate the fiercest-looking stranger; and the sound of the “sweetee” call is the signal for all birds to be alert. At the repetition of it the leaves begin to rustle, the moss to sigh, and the log-heaps to give up their hidden store of sleepy Wrens, bashful Sparrows, and frowning Towhees. Juncoes simper and Kinglets squeak over the strange discovery; the Steller Jay takes notice and sidles over to spy upon the performance; while the distant-faring Crow swerves from his course and bends an inquiring eye toward the mystery. Dee-dee-dee says the Black-cap. A hundred beady eyes are bent upon you, trying to resolve your domino of corduroy or khaki. Caw says the Crow in comprehension, and you know that the game is up,—up for all but the Chickadee. He will stay and talk with you as long as you may endure to pucker your lips to his fairy lispings.
It is no exaggeration to say that the “Swee-tee” note of the Chickadee, passably imitated, is the quickest summons in the bird-world. It is the open sesame to all woodland secrets. One drawback, however, attends its use: you cannot compass it when the air is chilly and the lips thick. Now, the eastern bird, (P. atricapillus) has a clear, high-pitched call-note, Swee-tee, or Swee-tee tee