Читать книгу Life Histories of North American Jays, Crows, and Titmice - Arthur Cleveland Bent - Страница 17

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Ridgway (1904) characterizes this northwestern race as “similar to P. c. canadensis, but dusky hood extending over the crown, leaving only the forehead white; the latter often more or less tinged with smoky gray; the general color of upper and lower parts browner, and size less. Agreeing with P. c. nigricapillus in greater extent of the dusky hood, but this browner, with the anterior portion more distinctly ashy, the forehead less purely white, and the general color, both above and below, decidedly paler, the under tail-coverts dirty whitish or very pale brownish gray.”

The Alaska jay is known to inhabit the wooded portions of Alaska, except the coast region east and south of the Alaska Peninsula, but just where it intergrades with typical canadensis in eastern Alaska or western Mackenzie does not seem to be definitely known.

In the interior of Alaska, Lee Raymond Dice (1920) found this jay “common in white spruce-paper birch forest, in black spruce forest, in burned timber, and in lowland willows along the streams. In the winter they also frequent the neighborhood of cabins and camps.” Dr. Joseph Grinnell (1900a), referring to the Kotzebue Sound region, writes: “During September and October, in my tramps across the tundras lying along the base of the Jade Mountains, I frequently met with two or three jays far out on the plains a mile or more from timber, feeding on blueberries. * * * Later, in the coldest days of mid-winter, I found them in the dense willow thickets.”

Herbert Brandt (MS.) writes: “Throughout the great wooded interior of Alaska, where for eight months the snow and cold reign, the only conspicuous living thing that gladdens the camp and trail of the dog-musher is the Alaska jay. Wheresoever he may go and make his camp in the snow, it is sure to find him; and by his friendly manner this jocund jay gives to the cheerless by-places a touch of life that the naturalist always remembers. At every habitation that we visited and at every camp we made from Nenana to the tundra rim, where we left the trees behind, the Alaska jay was always present. Those hardy pioneers that live in this vast wooded area are outdoor people, with all the keenness and skill in woodcraft that such a life produces, yet in spite of the fact that this neighborly bird is very plentiful, and that the timbered cover in which it lives is mostly open, we did not meet a single person who had seen its egg. Often along our trail the actions of this species made obvious the fact that it was nesting, but I could find no clue that would direct me to its abode. It is evident that during nesting time the bird forsakes the immediate vicinity of habitations, where it is wont to congregate, and retires to a secluded area, which it enters and whence it departs with great caution.”

Nesting.—The natives in Alaska, and in other parts of the range of this species, are unwilling to collect the nests and eggs of this jay, as they are suspicious that some evil will befall them if the nest is disturbed or even if the eggs are counted. François Mercier (Nelson, 1887) offered a tempting reward which resulted in persuading a native to bring him two nests. The older natives in the vicinity “prophesied that the weather would turn cold, and that a very late spring would ensue as a result of this robbery. As chance would have it the prophesies of the old soothsayers came true in a remarkable degree, and the spring was the coldest and most backward by nearly a month of any year since the Americans have had possession of the country.” After that, he was never able to persuade the natives to hunt for nests. This may be one reason why so few nests of this species have found their way into collections.

Dr. Grinnell (1900a) found a pair of Alaska jays building a nest on March 20.

It was ten feet above the snow in a dense young spruce growing among a clump of taller ones on a knoll. * * * Although I did not disturb the nest in the least, a visit two weeks later found it covered with snow and apparently deserted. * * * Not until May 13, however, did I finally find an occupied jay’s nest, and its discovery then was by mere accident. It was twelve feet up in a small spruce amongst a clump of larger ones on a low ridge. There were no “tell-tale sticks and twigs on the snow beneath”; as Nelson notes, and in fact nothing to indicate its location. The nest rested on several horizontal or slightly drooping branches against the south side of the main trunk. The foliage around it was moderately dense, so that it could be seen from the ground, though only as an indistinct dark spot. The bird was sitting on the nest when I discovered it. Her head and tail appeared conspicuously over the edge of the nest, and she remained on until I had climbed up within an arm’s length of her. She then left the nest and silently flew to a nearby tree where she was joined by her mate. They both remained in the vicinity, but ostensibly paid little attention to me. * * * The nest proper was built on a loose foundation of slender spruce twigs. The walls and bottom consist of a closely felted mass of a black hair-like lichen, many short bits of spruce twigs, feathers of ptarmigan and hawk owls, strips of fibrous bark and a few grasses. The interior is lined with the softest and finest-grained material. The whole fabric is of such a quality as to accomplish the greatest conservation of warmth. Which certainly must be necessary where incubation is carried on in below-zero weather!

Mr. Brandt found his first nest near Flat, Alaska, on April 9, 1924; it contained four eggs ranging evenly in incubation, showing that incubation had begun after the laying of the first egg, which is probably necessary to prevent freezing. For the first 6 days of April the temperature had ranged from 16° below to 35° below zero, though on the 8th it had risen to 30° above. He says in his notes: “The nest of the Alaska jay is placed usually in a spruce tree in a river or creek bottom, and, in the two instances of which I have information, they were poorly concealed; yet the forest at that time was so snow-laden that an object as small as a jay’s nest is not at all conspicuous near a tree trunk. The incubating bird sits very close, is quiet about the nest, and its mate stays away from the vicinity during the entire time that an intruder is about. The incubating bird did not leave its charge until the climber was but a foot distant.

“The nest found at Flat was 9 feet above the ground and was placed against the trunk of a small scrubby tree 3 inches in diameter, which it partly encircled. It was built on a whorl of very thin branches but was supported largely by a pendant spruce limb, the branchlets of which were woven into the outer rim of the nest and which served also as a snow shelter for the brooding bird. The structure of this abode is just what one would expect of a bird that chooses the severest time of the year to breed. The nest is very bulky, of a silver-gray color, and like most nests of jays is of two distinct parts, a loosely made platform, in this case of tamarack twigs, and a very well-made, compact inner nest. It has very closely built walls varying in thickness from 1 inch, where it rested against the tree trunk, to 3 inches on the opposite side. It is composed largely of cotton from an old quilt and is lined with feathers of the Alaska spruce grouse and willow ptarmigan, some thread, string and fine strips of bark, with an inner lining of dog hair and feathers in liberal quantities. All this is matted and felted together in such a manner as to make the interior well insulated against the cold, and when the incubating bird is snuggled down into the close-fitting rim, but little warmth is radiated, even in the most rigorous weather. The dimensions of the nest are as follows: Height, 7 inches; total outside diameter, 12; outside diameter of primary nest, 8; inside diameter, 3.5; depth of cup, 3; thickness of wall, 1 to 3 inches.”

Eggs.—The Alaska jay apparently lays three or four eggs, probably most commonly three. Dr. Grinnell’s set consisted of three eggs, and Mr. Brandt collected one set of three and one of four. The latter describes his seven eggs as follows (MS): “The egg in outline is ovate to short-ovate, and exhibits considerable luster. The egg of this species is very distinctive, and resembles that of the shrikes, but has the typical shape and texture of the egg of a jay. The ground color is conspicuous because half of it is exposed, and the markings are of a neutral color. These markings appear like freckles on the egg and are most heavily concentrated about the larger end, sometimes taking the form of a wreath. The spots are small, angular in shape and irregular in size. Those of the underlying series are of a lavender hue, ranging from grayish lavender to pale violet gray and to pale purplish gray; while the overlying spots are reddish and richer, ranging from Saccardo’s olive to burnt umber and Rood’s brown.”

The measurements of 20 eggs average 29.5 by 20.8 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 31.2 by 21.0, 28.4 by 21.5, and 30.8 by 20.1 millimeters.

Behavior.—In a general way the behavior of Alaska jays does not differ materially from that of the species elsewhere. But the following incidents are worth mentioning. Mr. Dice (1920) states that “in several instances these jays were seen to attack hawks and hawk owls.” Joseph S. Dixon (1938) relates the following:

On June 1, at Savage River, Wright and I watched a pair of Alaska jays being chased away from camp by a red squirrel. Every time a jay would alight in the top of a spruce tree near camp the squirrel would look up at the bird, select the proper tree, and would run up the tree and jump at the jay, driving him away. This was repeated many times. If the spruce trees were close together the squirrel would jump from one tree to the next. If this was not possible he would go down and run across on the ground climbing the tree the jay was in. After the squirrel had driven the jays away, we saw the former take a bit of food—old discarded cheese—that he had kept hidden in the crotch of a tree. Then he carried it down the tree and hid it under an old rotten log.

There is considerable competition about the camps among the Alaska jays and red squirrels to see which will get the choicest bits of discarded table scraps.

On May 26, 1926, a robin was found trying to drive a jay away from its nest. Investigation showed that the jay was doing his best to steal the robin’s eggs.

Early in May 1924 Otto W. Geist (1936) witnessed a fight between a pair of Alaska jays and a full-grown weasel. Thawing during the day and freezing at night had formed a crust on the snow, but there were some bare spaces and small holes in the crust. He says, in part:

The snow under the crust was to a great extent “honey-combed,” leaving spaces through which small animals such as mice and weasels could find easy passage.

From not far away I heard the shrieks of birds which seemed to be coming closer. I decided to wait. Soon I saw two Alaska Jays flying from tree to tree, diving frequently at something on the ground. I kept still in order to see what was the matter. Soon a weasel, evidently full grown and still in his white winter coat which, however, was soiled with blood, ran toward a patch of snow directly in front of me and disappeared under it. Both birds were close behind and they rested on a limb of a small tree under which I was standing. * * *

Both flew excitedly over the patch of snow. They soon returned to the tree and to my astonishment ceased shrieking. All was quiet for possibly a minute or more when through one of the smaller holes in the snow there appeared the head and forepart of the weasel. The two birds became highly excited and again flew out over the patch. They would sweep down over the weasel, first one, then the other, striking with its beak. The weasel seemed cowed and ducked low after each strike. There were blood spots on the snow and it seemed to me the birds were doing very effective work.

I now moved a little closer, but neither the birds nor the weasel seemed to notice me. I talked aloud and whistled but they paid no attention. At times one of the birds would fly out, almost stop over the weasel, using the wings to brake with, and try to see how close he could get to the weasel with his feet. Each time this was done the weasel would stretch out, sticking his head and front of the body into the air. However, he did not seem to snap at the birds. On the contrary, frequently the weasel’s mouth was open and it seemed to be panting and fairly well worn out. * * *

It seemed that not a single movement of the weasel was missed by the birds. At one place where the crust on the snow was thin, the weasel managed to work under and in doing so broke some of the crust. Both birds saw this and flew down to the place where the snow moved and crumbled. The fight was on again. The weasel rushed out and made a few jumps, one a very long one of about four feet, with the birds after him at once. However, by now the weasel had reached a pile of brush. The last glimpse I had of his coat it seemed bloodier than ever.

The weasel was now safe from further attack, and the jays had put up a brave fight to protect their young from one of the fiercest fighters in the woods.