Since our country is pretty well supplied with Wrens, and those too which are content with our climate the year around, this bustling down-Easter, arriving at what he considers the proper season, does not figure so largely in local bird society as across the Rockies. Altho originally described by Audubon from material secured by Townsend, at Vancouver, in the Thirties, parkmanii gives evidence of being a newcomer, comparatively speaking. In the first place, the late arrival, April 25th at Puget Sound points, marks the species in which the tradition of a hard climate is still strong. And, in the second place, the slightly paler plumage acquired while crossing the desert has not yet been lost, altho it is very certain that it could not long withstand consecutive centuries of residence in our humid climate. It is not surprising, therefore, that the House Wren is not abundant nor well distributed in western Washington. On the East-side it is neither common nor rare, being found about long-established ranches and wherever the presence of a little timber affords the variety of cover which is essential to its happiness.
Taken in Oregon. Photo by W. L. Finley.
A VERY BUSY WREN.
NOT QUITE SO BUSY AS APPEARS, HOWEVER. THE PICTURE IS A COMPOSITE AND PRESENTS THE SAME BIRD TWICE.
Once upon the scene, however, a little House Wren goes a great ways. He is bursting with energy, and music escapes from his busy mandibles like steam from a safety valve. The first task is to renovate last year’s quarters, but there is always time on the side to explore a new brush-heap, to scold a cat, or to indulge innumerable song-bursts. In singing his joyous trill the bird reminds one of a piece of fireworks called a “cascade,” for he fills the air with a brilliant bouquet of music, and is himself, one would think, nearly consumed by the violence of the effort. But the next moment the singer is carrying out last year’s feather bed by great beakfuls, or lugging into some cranny sticks ridiculously large for him.
During the nesting season both birds are perfect little spitfires, assaulting mischievous prowlers with a fearlessness which knows no caution, and scolding in a voice which expresses the deepest scorn. The rasping note produced on such an occasion reminds one of the energetic use of a nutmeg grater by a determined housewife.
In nesting, the Wrens make free of the haunts of men, but are in nowise dependent on them. Old cabins afford convenient crannies, forgotten augur-holes, tin cans, bird boxes, a sleeve or pocket in an old coat hanging in the woodshed,—anything with a cavity will do; but, by the same token, an unused Woodpecker’s hole, or a knot-hole in a stump miles from the haunts of men will do as well. In any case the cavity, be it big or little, must first be filled up with sticks, with just room at the top for entrance. Into this mass a deep hollow is sunk, and this is heavily lined with horse-hair, wool, feathers, bits of snake-skin, anything soft and “comfy”.
Since the Western House Wren makes a brief season with us, it appears to raise but one brood annually.
No. 120.
WESTERN WINTER WREN.
A. O. U. No. 722 a. Nannus hiemalis pacificus (Baird).
Description.—Adult: Above warm dark brown, duller before, brighter on rump, sometimes obscurely waved or barred with dusky on back, wings, and tail; barring more distinct on edges of four or five outer primaries, where alternating with buffy; concealed white spots on rump scarce, or almost wanting; a pale brownish superciliary line; sides of head speckled brownish and buffy; underparts everywhere finely mottled, speckled or barred,—on the throat and breast mingled brownish (Isabella-color) and buffy, below dusky and tawny, dusky predominating over brown on flanks and crissum; bill comparatively short, straight, blackish above, lighter below; feet light brown. Length about 4.00 (101.6); wing 1.81 (46); tail 1.18 (30); bill .46 (11.6); tarsus .71 (18).
Recognition Marks.—Pygmy size; dark brown above, lighter below; more or less speckled and barred all over; tail shorter than in preceding species.
Nesting.—Nest: of moss and a few small twigs, lined heavily with wool, rabbits’ fur, hair and feathers, placed among roots of upturned tree, or in crannies of decayed stumps, brush-heaps, etc. Eggs: 4-7, usually 5, white or creamy-white, dotted finely but sparingly with reddish brown; occasionally blotched with the same; sometimes almost unmarked. Av. size .69 × .50 (17.5 × 12.7). Season: first week in April to first week in July according to altitude: two broods.
General Range.—Western North America, breeding from southern California to southern Alaska, east to western Montana. Chiefly resident, but south irregularly in Great Basin States and California in winter.
Range in Washington.—Resident in coniferous timber from sea level to limit of trees; less common east of the Cascade Mountains; of irregular occurrence in open country during migrations.
Authorities.—[Lewis and Clark, Hist. (1814) Ed. Biddle: Coues. Vol. II, p. 186.] ? Orn. Com. Journ. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila. VII. 1837, 193 (Columbia River). Troglodytes (Anorthura) hyemalis Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, p. 369. (T). C&S. L¹. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. Kk. J. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.
Chick—chick chick—chick chick; it is the Winter Wren’s way of saying How-do-you-do? when you invade his domain in the damp forest. The voice is a size too large for such a mite of a bird, and one does not understand its circumflexed quality until he sees its possessor making an emphatic curtsey with each uttereance. It is not every day that the recluse beholds a man, and it may be that he has stolen a march under cover of the ferns and salal brush before touching off his little mine of interrogatives at your knees. If so, his brusque little being is softened by a friendly twinkle, as he notes your surprise and then darts back chuckling to the cover of a fallen log.