Nesting of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet
BY ANNA HEAD
N the edge of a Sierra meadow, on the shore of Lake Tahoe. 0 there is a grove of tamarack trees, growing in very open order. The roots remain submerged until July As the water that has flooded the meadow subsides, a growth of lush grass and mosses, starred with dwarf mimulus, violet and strawberry blossoms, covers the ground, and later the spikes of the white orchid and quaint elephantrheads appear. Here the bird-lover will do well to spend many hours, in spite of, or per- haps it would be truer to say, becauSe of, the swarms of goats. flies and mosquitoes that find here a congenial breeding-place Attracted by these are several species of Flycatchers, Arctic Bluebirds, Wrens and all the host of insectefeeders. The dead and dying trees furnish food and house-room for several kinds of Woodpeckers. while Blackbirds and Robins forage in the rich soil at their feet.
One bright morning in the middle of July I was seated on a warm, soft tuft of moss, at the foot of a tamarack tree. watching the assiduous at- tentions of a pair of Sierra Sapsuckers. whose rich red breasts and heads made them a conspicuous mark as they fearlessly came and went to the hole near the top of a bare tamarack pole. where their young kept up their weird, incessant Chant. rising and falling like the wind in a knot-hole. Soon my attention was attracted by a mite of a bird which kept hopping about me in a circle. often coming as near as five feet, and uttering a cry of distress which sounded like "Quilpl quilpl" or " Helpl help!" as I soon interpreted itt
"Evidently some one else has a nest close by." I said. and began search— ing the tree under which I sat. but without success So I sat down again to watch‘ The little fellow was worth watching.—a neat, graceful little figure, not over four inches long, with olive-green back. whitish wing- bars, pale gray under-parts. and a white ring about the eye, which increased its apparent size, As he clung to a twig head downward, I could plainly see the flaming crown of the Ruby-crowned Kinglett
My motionless attitude partially reassured him. and soon he went to another tree and sang out clearly his song, consisting of a prelude of rapid iigh notes. followed by a group of three triplets. which seemed to say, "Too many. too many, too manyl" The tone is surprisingly full and penetrating for so small a bird, and the quality indescribahly sweet, I have made an attempt at a musical notationt
syo.---—f-/;N—/A—\~A/;—\——--—- 'r‘ '1'
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