Concerning the nesting range of this bird there has been much surmise. For many years the single eggs taken by Kennicott at Fort Yukon on July 4, 1861, remained unique; but latterly we are learning that it also nests much further south. Mr. Brooks took four sets, one from a Murray pine and three from Douglas firs, at 158-Mile House, B. C., in June, 1901[51]. Dr. C. S. Moody[52] reports the taking of a set of five eggs at Sandpoint, Idaho, July 5, 1904. On June 26, 1904, Robert G. Bee, of Provo City, found a nest near Sunnyside, Utah[53]. With such examples before us it is practically certain that the species will be found nesting in this State. Indeed, Mr. F. S. Merrill, of Spokane, believes that he once found a nest of the Bohemian Waxwing on the headwaters of the Little Spokane River near Milan. The nest he describes as having been placed in an alder at a height of eight feet, and it contained four eggs on the point of hatching. The brooding bird allowed a close approach while upon the nest, but was not seen again after being once flushed.
No. 134.
CEDAR WAXWING.
A. O. U. No. 619. Bombycilla cedrorum Vieill.
Synonyms.—Cedar-bird. Cherry-bird. Carolina Waxwing. Lesser Waxwing.
Description.—Adults: A conspicuous crest; extreme forehead, lores, and line thru eye velvety-black; chin blackish, fading rapidly into the rich grayish-brown of remaining fore-parts and head; a narrow whitish line bordering the black on the forehead and the blackish of the chin; back darker, shading thru ash of rump to blackish-ash of tail; tail-feathers abruptly tipped with gamboge yellow; belly sordid yellow; under tail-coverts white; wings slaty-gray, primaries narrowly edged with whitish; secondaries and inner quills without white markings, but bearing tips of red “sealing-wax”; the tail-feathers are occasionally found with the same curious, horny appendages; bill black; feet plumbeous. Sexes alike, but considerable individual variation in number and size of waxen tips. Young, streaked everywhere with whitish, and usually without red tips. Length 6.50-7.50 (165.1-190.5); wing 3.70 (94); tail 2.31 (58.7); bill .40 (10.2).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; soft grayish-brown plumage; crest; red sealing-wax tips on secondaries; belly yellow; wings without white bars or spots, as distinguished from preceding species.
Nesting.—Nest, a bulky affair of leaves, grasses, bark-strips and trash, well lined with rootlets and soft materials; placed in crotch or horizontally saddled on limb of orchard or evergreen tree. Eggs, 3-6, dull grayish blue or putty-color, marked sparingly with deep-set, rounded spots of umber or black. Av. size, .86 × .61 (21.8 × 15.5). Season: June, July; two broods.
General Range.—North America at large, from the Fur Countries southward. In winter from the northern border of the United States south to the West Indies and Costa Rica. Breeds from Virginia, Kansas, Oregon, etc., northward.
Range in Washington.—Of regular occurrence in the State, but irregular or variable locally. Resident, but less common in winter.
Authorities.—Ampelis cedrorum Baird, Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. XII. pt. II. 1860, p. 187. T. C&S. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². Ss². Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P. B. E.
One does not care to commit himself in precise language upon the range of the Cedarbird, or to predict that it will be found at any given spot in a given season. The fact is, Cedarbirds are gypsies of the feathered kind. There are always some of them about somewhere, but their comings and goings are not according to any fixed law. A company of Cedarbirds may throng the rowan trees in your front yard some bleak day in December; they may nest in your orchard the following July; and you may not see them on your premises again for years—unless you keep cherry trees. It must be confessed (since the shade of the cherry tree is ever sacred to Truth) that the Cedarbird, or “Cherrybird,” has a single passion, a consuming desire for cherries. But don’t kill him for that. You like cherries yourself. All the more reason, then, why you should be charitable toward a brother’s weakness. Besides, he is so handsome,—handsomer himself than a luscious cherry even. Feast your eyes upon him, those marvelous melting browns, those shifting saffrons and Quaker drabs, those red sealing-wax tips on the wing-quills (he is canning cherries, you see, and comes provided). Feast your eyes, I say, and carry the vision to the table with you—and a few less cherries. Or, if there are not enough for you both, draw a decent breadth of mosquito-netting over the tree, and absolve your soul of murderous intent. Remember, too, if you require self-justification, that earlier in the season he diligently devoured noxious worms and insect pests, so that he has a clear right to a share in the fruit of his labors.
Cherries are by no means the only kind of fruit eaten by these birds. Like most orchard-haunting species, they are very fond of mulberries, while the red berries of the mountain ash are a staple ration in fall and winter. Truth to tell, these beauties are sad gluttons, and they will gorge themselves at times till the very effort of swallowing becomes a delicious pain.
The Cedarbird, being so singularly endowed with the gift of beauty, is denied the gift of song. He is, in fact, the most nearly voiceless of any of the American Oscines, his sole note being a high-pitched sibilant squeak. Indeed, so high-pitched is this extraordinary note that many people, and they trained bird-men, cannot hear them at all, even when the Waxwings are squeaking all about them. It is an almost uncanny spectacle, that of a company of Waxwings sitting aloft in some leafless tree early in spring, erect, immovable, like soldiers on parade, but complaining to each other in that faint, penetrating monotone. It is as tho you had come upon a company of the Immortals, high-removed, conversing of matters too recondite for human ken, and surveying you the while with Olympian disdain. You steal away from the foot of the tree with a chastened sense of having encountered something not quite understandable.
The dilatory habits of these birds are well shown in their nesting, which they put off until late June or July, for no apparent reason. In constructing the nest the birds use anything soft and pliable which happens to catch the eye. Some specimens are composed entirely of the green hanging mosses, while others are a complicated mixture of twigs, leaves, rootlets, fibers, grasses, rags, string, paper, and what not. The nest may be placed at any moderate height up to fifty feet, and a great variety of trees are used altho orchard trees are favorites. The birds are half gregarious, even in the nesting season, so that a small orchard may contain a dozen nests, while another as good, a little way removed, has none. In the Nooksack Valley, near Glacier, Mr. Brown showed me a tiny pasture carved out of the woods, where he had found, during the previous season, six nests of the Cedarbird, placed at heights ranging from three to six feet above the ground in small clumps of vine maple or alder saplings. In Chelan we found them nesting in the tops of the solitary pine trees which line the stream.
The female sits closely upon her eggs, not infrequently remaining until forcibly removed. Once off, however, she makes away without complaint, and pays no further attention to the incident until the intruder has departed.
Always of a most gentle disposition, when the nesting season arrives, according to Mr. Bowles, these birds richly deserve the name of Love Birds. A leaf from his note-book supports the statement: “July 7, 1896. To-day I watched two Cedarbirds selecting a nesting site, first one location being tested, then another. Finally they decided upon a suitable place and commenced picking both dry and green leaves from the surrounding trees, placing them upon a horizontal limb where two or three twigs projected. Almost all of these leaves blew off as soon as placed, greatly to the surprise of the birds, who solemnly watched them drop to the ground. These fallen leaves were never replaced, fresh ones being gathered instead, and these were always secured from growing trees. Then one got a long strip of plant silk and, placing it on the leaf foundation flew a foot or two away and lit. The other bird promptly took away the silk and brought it to its mate, who very gently took it and put it back. This operation was repeated again and again. At times both held the silk, sitting only an inch or two apart, whereupon the bird who was the original finder would, very gently, pull it from the bill of its mate and replace it. At the end of fifteen minutes of this loving passage I was obliged to retire, and I shall never know whether the plant fiber was successfully placed or merely worn out.”