94 THE CONDOR Vol. XIII was the only representative of the species that I ever saw thereabouts. In autumn the Pinyon Jays were most attentive to a small field of-squaw corn near the brook, and at the base of a pine-clad bluff that was a favorite resort of these birds. They attacked the grain while the stalks were standing, as well as when in the shock; and in this work they were ably assisted by Blue Jays and Red=headed Woodpeckers. As was implied, Pinyon Jays are not generally to be classed as loafers about outbuildings, haystacks, and barnyards. But in February of the year 1904, one lone individual stayed about my buildings for several days to hunt for grains of corn and oats. Sometimes the kernels of corn were swallowed entire, and at other times he fixed them in crevices of posts and rails, and cracked them with blows from his beak, in the manner in which his cousin, the Blue Jay, opens the hazel- nuts stolen by him from some shed-roof where they have been put to dry. I was able to approach within two or three yards of this bird, whose kind are always so shy--so near, in fact, that I could easily distinguish the whitish feathers of his throat. His first appearance occurred immediately following a light fall of snow; when this had melted away he disappeared for a few days. On the morning of February 24, however, a light mantle of snow again covered the surface of the earth, and my acquaintance came flying from .the pines, and alighted on a post near me. Soon I saw him working away at an ear of corn, and swallowing the unbroken kernels as they were detached.' Each time did he come alone--never brought a friend to partake of the abundance of his fare. Perhaps he thought it not worth while to do so, for he soon tired of his semi-domestication, and came no more. It seems meet that these birds should dwell in a region so suggesti?,e of ancient days. Dimly in the northwest appear the Black Hills, which were up- heaved in a nameless day between Cretaceous and Miocene time. The Bad Lands, turreted and sculptured by the tireless forces of Nature through a lavish waste of years, and yielding the remains of strange ereattires that lived and loved long ?eons since--these lie to the northward. On the ancient buttes and bluffs, the relies and ruins of Miocene deposits, flourish the pines, which belong to a group of seed-bearing plants the heyday of whose existence was in the Triassic age, at least fourteen million years ago. And among these trees rove the Pinebirds, themselves illustrative of things that are past. For they are a link between the crows and the true iays--a combination of both--and resemble some ancient bird that was the common ancestor of the two subfamilies. In the region of the Great Plains the Robins (Planesticus migratorius) are not always the familiar dooryard birds with which we are so well acquainted in the east, and elsewhere. If, in the locality of which I write, your house is situated near ? the creek, then assuredly you will have these birds always with you at the proper times. But, living on a treeless hill, about all that you will hear of them comes wafted' from the groves below, or their soft screech may be 11eard as they pass overhead. Occasionally, one or two will visit your barnyard or lawn in quest of something new in the way of diet. While the majority of them migrate, a few Robins remain in this region throughout' open winters. Tree Sparrows (Spizella monlicola) were familiar visitants to my barnyard in winter and spring. They spent much time near the forage-stores, where now and then a Snowbird (Junco hiemalls, etc.) was to be seen among them. These latter are more shy than the sparrows. On the flat, weed-covered valley of Lake Creek, Tree Sparrows were more abundant than here, while the Juneos were less so. In the spring of 1908, at Lake Creek, among the hordes of sparrows, I saw a solitary
