There is nothing big about the Red-breasted Nuthatch save his voice. If undisturbed, birdikins pursues the even tenor of his ways, like any other winged bug-hunter; but once provoke his curiosity or arouse suspicion, and he publishes forthwith a broadside of sensational editorial matter which no thoughtful reader of the woods can overlook. The full war-dance song of the Red-breasted Nuthatch, executed, for instance, when he hears the false notes of the Screech Owl, is something like this: Nyăă - - - - - - - nyăă - - - - - - nyăă - - - - - nyăă - - - - nyăă - - - nyăă - - nyă - nyă - nyă nyă nyă nyă nyă nyă nyă nyă nyă and so on, in an incoherent strain of wild excitement, until he runs clean out of breath and quits, exhausted. The early notes of this orgic rhapsody are interrogative and penetrating; the succeeding notes are a sort of trumpeting challenge for the intruder to show himself; failing which, the irate Creeper drops into a lower, non-resonant series, of doubtful meaning and more doubtful morals. But the bird is not always angry, and the nasal call sounding on migration has a friendly quality about it which brings one hastening out-of-doors to greet the traveler again. Contrary to an early report, the Red-breast is quite at home in our deeper forests. Indeed, his is one of the most characteristic voices of the solemn fir woods. He still claims an interest, however, in deciduous timber, in bottom lands, and in the oak trees which border the prairies. In western Washington, it is quite impossible to trace or to estimate the bird’s migrations, since it is present everywhere at all seasons; but it is probably much less abundant with us in winter. In eastern Washington, it is confined for the most part to the region of pine timber in summer, and altho it also winters here irregularly, the numbers in this part of the State are largely augmented by migrants during May and September.
Thru the intermittent quanking of a pair of these birds, my attention was directed to a couple of tall dead fir trees near the center of a woods, then known as the Puget Mill strip, but now as Moore’s University Park Addition to Seattle. A little lazy scrutiny descried the birds, mere twinkling bits of blue-gray, about one hundred and twenty-five feet up; and two or three mysterious disappearances established a suspicion that they were interested in a certain section of one of the trees. The suspicion received strong confirmation when, after a longer disappearance than usual on the part of the Red-breasts, a Harris Woodpecker alighted further up in the same stub. The Nuthatches immediately swarmed out and set upon the Harris with vigor and language. The Woodpecker was disposed to stand his ground, whereat the Nuthatches became highly enraged and charged upon the intruder so vigorously that the poor fellow was obliged to dodge about his chosen limb in lively fashion. The Hatches cried nyă nyă nyă as fast as they could get breath, and flirted their wings between whiles to vent their outraged feelings. Harris naturally decided before long that the game wasn’t worth the bother.
Taken in Pierce County. Photo by the Author.
A TYPICAL NESTING SITE OF THE RED-BREASTED NUTHATCH.
AN OAK TREE (QUERCUS GARRYANA) AT THE BORDER OF THE PRAIRIE.
Time and again the little fellows flew across to a live fir tree, but only to come back as often to the same fascinating belt. Finally, from a new vantage point I made out the hole, a very fresh one in an open stretch of bark about one hundred and twenty feet up. As I looked, one bird entered the excavation and remained, while the other mounted guard at the entrance. After about five minutes of this the tiny miner emerged and the other, the male, I think, took her place. His duty appeared to be to remove the chips, for he stuck his head out at the entrance momentarily, and one imagined, rather than saw at that height, the tiny flashes of falling white. All very romantic, but not a good “risk” from the insurance man’s standpoint.
These Nuthatches must delight in work. They will spend a week in laborious excavation, and then abandon the claim for no apparent reason. Perhaps it is an outcropping of that same instinct of restlessness which makes Wrens build “decoy” nests. One such finished nest we found to be shaped not unlike a nursing bottle, a bottle with a bent neck. The entrance was one and three-eighths inches across, the cavity three inches wide, one and a half deep, and eight long (keeping in mind the analogy of the bottle resting on its flat side).
The birds do not always nest at ungetatable heights. A nest taken near Tacoma on the 8th of June, 1906, was found at a height of only seven feet in a small fir stump. The wood was very rotten, and the eggs rested only four inches below the entrance. The nest-lining in this instance was a heavy mat an inch in thickness, and was composed of vegetable matter—wood fiber, soft grasses, etc.—without hair of any sort, as would surely have been the case with that of a Chestnut-backed Chickadee, for which it was at first taken.
The Nuthatches appear to leave their eggs during the warmer hours of the day, and one must await the return of the truant owners if he would be sure of identification. One mark, but not infallible, is the presence of pitch, smeared all around and especially below the nesting hole. The use of this is not quite certain, but Mr. Bowles’s hazard is a good one; viz., that it serves to ward off the ants, which are often a pest to hole-nesting birds. These ants not only annoy the sitting bird, who is presumably able to defend herself, but they sometimes destroy unguarded eggs, or young birds.
No. 113.
PYGMY NUTHATCH.
A. O. U. No. 730. Sitta pygmæa Vigors.
Synonym.—California Nuthatch (early name).
Description.—Adults: Crown, nape, and sides of head to below eye grayish olive or olive-brown, a buffy white spot on hind-neck (nearly concealed in fresh plumage); lores and region behind eye (bounding the olive) blackish; remaining upperparts plumbeous, browning (brownish slate) on flight feathers, etc., becoming black on rectrices (except central pair); longer primaries usually with some edging of white; central pair of tail-feathers with elongated white spot; two outer pairs crossed obliquely with white, and the three outer tipped with slate; underparts sordid white, smoky brown, or even ferruginous, clearest (nearly white) on chin and cheeks; sides, flanks, and crissum washed with color of back; bill plumbeous, lightening below; feet plumbeous; iris black. Young: Like adults but crown and hind-neck nearly color of back; sides and flanks washed with brownish. Length 4.00 (101.6) or less; wing 2.56 (65); tail 1.34 (34); bill .56 (14.2); tarsus .59 (15).
Recognition Marks.—Pygmy size; top of head olive brown contrasting with plumbeous of back; gregarious habits.
Nesting.—Nest: a hole in dead top of pine tree, excavated by birds, smeared about entrance with pitch, and lined with soft substances, grass, hair, and feathers. Eggs: 5-8, pure white, flecked more or less heavily with reddish brown. Av. size, .61 × .54 (15.5 × 13.7). Season: May 1-20; one brood.
General Range.—Western United States from New Mexico, Colorado, and Montana to southern California, Washington, and eastern British Columbia; southward in Mexico to Mount Orizaba.
Range in Washington.—Resident in northern and eastern portions of the State east of the Cascade Mountains. Nearly confined to pine timber.
Authorities.—Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. pt. II. 1858, p. 378. C&S. D¹. J.
Specimens.—Prov. C.