A. O. U. No. 542b. Passerculus sandwichensis alaudinus (Bonap.).
Synonym.—Gray Savannah Sparrow.
Description.—Similar to P. s. savanna but decidedly paler and grayer; less bay or none in edging of feathers of upperparts; yellow of superciliary stripe usually paler, sometimes nearly white; bill longer and relatively weaker. Other dimensions about as in P. s. savanna.
Recognition Marks.—As in preceding—paler.
Nesting.—Nest: in grassy meadow, of dried grasses settled deeply into dead grass or, rarely, into ground. Eggs: 4 or 5, grayish white to light bluish green, profusely dotted or spotted and blotched with varying shades of brown and slate, sometimes so heavily as to conceal the ground color. Av. size, .75 × .55 (19 × 13.97). Season: third week in May; one brood.
General Range.—Western North America from the eastern border of the Great Plains breeding from the plateau of Mexico to northwestern Alaska; in winter south to Lower California and Guatemala.
Range in Washington.—Both sides of the Cascades in low-lying meadows. Perhaps sparingly resident in winter on West-side.
Migrations.—Spring: About April 1st; Bremerton March 23, 1906.
Authorities.—Passerculus alaudinus Bonap. Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, 447. (T). C&S. L¹. Rh. Ra. Kk. J. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. Prov. B.
Not every bird can be a beauty any more than every soldier can be a colonel; and when we consider that ten times as many shot-guns are in commission in time of peace as rifles in time of war, we cannot blame a bird for rejoicing in the virtue of humility, envying neither the epaulets of General Blackbird nor even the pale chevrons of Sergeant Siskin. A Savanna Sparrow, especially the washed-out western variety, is a mere detached bit of brown earth done up in dried grasses; a feathered commonplace which the landscape will swallow up the instant you take eyes off it. To be sure, if you can get it quite alone and very near, you see enough to admire in the twelve-radiating pattern of the head, and you may even perceive a wan tint of yellow in the superciliary region; but let the birdling drop upon the ground and sit motionless amidst the grass, or in a criss-cross litter of weed-stalks, and sooner far will you catch the gleam of the needle in the haystack.
WESTERN SAVANNA SPARROW.
Savannas are birds of the meadows, whether fresh or salt, and wherever well-watered grasses and weeds abound, there they may be looked for. During migration, indeed, they may appear in most unexpected places. I saw one last year, at Bremerton, which haunted the vicinity of a tiny cemented pond in the center of a well-kept lawn. This bird hopped about coyly, peering behind blades of grass, and affecting a dainty fright at the sight of water, very much as a Chipping Sparrow might have done. In their nesting habits these little fellows approach more closely to colonizing than any other members of the Sparrow family. Large tracts of land, apparently suitable, are left untenanted; while, in a near-by field of a few acres, half a dozen pairs may be found nesting. More recently the birds have accepted the shelter of irrigated tracts upon the East-side, and their numbers would seem almost certainly to be upon the increase.
To ascertain the presence of these birds, the ear-test is best, when once the song is mastered. The latter consists of a series of lisping and buzzing notes, fine only in the sense of being small, and quite unmusical, tsut, tsut, tsu wzzzzztsubut. The sound instantly recalls the eastern Grasshopper Sparrow (Coturniculus savannarum passerinus), who is an own cousin; but the preliminary and closing flourishes are a good deal longer than those of the related species, and the buzzing strain shorter.
Love-making goes by example as well as by season, so that when the choral fever is on they are all at it. The males will sing from the ground rather than keep silence, altho they prefer a weed-top, a fence post, or even a convenient tree. The female listens patiently near by, or if she tries to slip away for a bit of food, the jealous lover recalls her to duty by an ardent chase.
The nest is settled snugly in the dead grasses of last year’s ungathered crop, and is thus both concealed from above and upborne from below, and is itself carefully done in fine dead grasses.
The sitting bird does not often permit a close approach, but rises from the nest at not less than thirty feet. The precise spot is, therefore, very difficult to locate. If discovered the bird will potter about with fine affection of listlessness, and seems to consider that she has done her full duty in not showing the eggs.