or fowl. On the other hand, he said that the Jays seldom remain at the high altitudes during the winter months, usually descending to lower elevations, where they flit about in flocks of from six to twenty, sounding their plaintive varied notes and whistles at all times.
Nevertheless, the storing of the Crows at this altitude was certainly much less systematic than that of the Jays. The Jays’ movements were easy to follow, for they were concerted and regular. The Inn was on a ridge between two cañons, and commanded the birds′ pathway. A band would come up from under the cliff at the top of the western cañon, cross over the ridge, and drop down into the eastern cañon, where they would fly over the tops of the firs
CLARK’S CROW
Photographed from nature by Walter K. Fisher
till they disappeared from sight. They would be gone some little time, and then return empty-handed to repeat the performance.
The Jays talked a good deal in going back and forth, and their notes were pleasantly varied. One call was remarkably like the chirp of a Robin. Another of the commonest was a weak and rather complaining cry, repeated several times; and a sharply contrasting one was a pure, clear whistle of one note followed by a three-syllabled call, something like ka-we-ah. The regular rallying cry was still different, a loud and striking two-syllabled ka-wheé. The notes of Clark′s Crow often suggested the rattling of the Red-headed Wood-pecker. The bird had a variety of kerring, throaty notes, and when disturbed, as at the unexpected sight of me at its dining-room, gave a loud, warning quarr. Besides these Woodpecker-like calls, it had a squawking cry similar to that of Steller’s Jay.
The voices of the birds were often heard from the house as they got water from the hydrant in front of the Inn, the Jays frequently stopping on the way back from their cañon storehouse. Sometimes
