Notes from Field and Study 105 wings are to be seen from early spring until autumn. When I have penetrated the small swamp which forms the source of the creek, I find the Marsh Hawks, Mourning Dove, Purple Finch, and, in the early spring, the Fox Sparrow. It is in my winter rambles that I really enjoy the tree-covered banks of Sucker Brook the most. When standing in the shelter of a friendly oak I can watch the Nuthatches and Chickadees make merry while cleaning out the little remaining meat from the hickory-nuts which the red squirrels have discarded. It is at such a time as this that I have about my only chance of watch- ing a Nuthatch on the ground, and then he does not stay long. He will poke about among the leaves until he finds a nut unto his taste, then, flying to a near-by shagbark, he will place the nut securely in a crevice of the bark, stand on his head and extract the last bit of meat from the shell, then away for another. Flickers, Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers are also to be seen, and last winter a group of some ten or twelve male Redheads made the grove noisy with their continual yelping. At dusk the little Screech Owl is more often heard than seen. And all the year round that crafty old fellow, the Crow, keeps a close watch on all the doings along the creek. Yesterday I surprised one. I was just crossing a rustic bridge, when the Crow flew up with a caw of surprise and anger; I had interrupted his repast from kitchen refuse. For once there seemed to be no sen- tinels posted. In the more open parts the Winter Chippy feeds, and once in a while I find my friend of the early springtime, the Song Sparrow, in their company. Some winters the Snow Buntings visit the bordering meadows, though they are by no means regular in their appearance in this section. Altogether I have seen some ninety different kinds of birds along Sucker Brook. — Nelson A. Jackson, Keuka Park, N. Y. A May Snow-storm The following notes relate to observations made at Grass Creek, Pine Ridge Reserva- tion, S. D. On May 3, 1905, a cold rain prevailed all day, coming from the north. In the evening the rain-storm changed to a snow-storm, which continued all night, all the next day, and into the succeeding night. It was practically a blizzard. Western Lark Sparrows had arrived on May 1, and the storm rendered them very uncomfortable, to- say the least. They huddled close to the south sides of the buildings, seeking shelter, and looking for food where the ground was bare. I threw out crumbs of bread to them, many of which they picked up. They slept under the door-steps and in a stable well sheltered by a hill, as well as in spaces among cord-wood in the wood-pile. The Horned Larks did not appear to- mind the storm greatly, at first, but ulti- mately they began to flock with the Lark Sparrows. They did not, however, so far as I could ascertain, eat any of the crumbs that I had thrown out. But the cold had made these birds, as well as the Sparrows, almost fearless of me. A White-rumped Shrike had killed a Lark and thrown the body over a wire on the fence, thus enabling him to hold it easily. He was eating the decapitated car- cass, and returned to it after I had fright- ened him off. When the snow had nearly disappeared I saw a large number of the Sparrows and Larks feeding together. A Shrike flew over them, a few feet above the ground. The Larks nearly all took alarm and flew away, but the Sparrows fed on unconcernedly with the few Larks that remained. The flocks of Blackbirds that had pre- viously been with us disappeared w T hile the blizzard was in progress and did not return until it had cleared; but a single Bronzed Grackle, accompanied by a male Cowbird, sought at times for food about our doors, during the storm. . The morning after the storm had ended I saw a Say's Pewee at one of the windows of the house in chase of a fly that was on the outside; and afterwards I saw him trying to secure one or two of these insects that were on the glass within doors. When the storm was raging I had seen him upon the ground, searching for food as ordinary ground-dwel- lers do. — H. Tullsen, Manderson, S. D.
