Birds of Mount Shasta Jays

Entry 64. Cyanocitta stelleri. Steller Jay. [Steller's Jay]

The form of Steller jay of the Shasta region is intermediate between true stelleri and the Sierra subspecies, frontalis.

It is one of the commonest, noisiest, and best-known birds of the region. Early in the season it was rarely seen above the lower part of the Canadian zone, and was most numerous in the Transition; but on August 2 one came all the way up to Squaw Creek Camp, in the alpine hemlocks, and a few days later a small flock was encountered, screaming, in Mud Creek Canyon at the mouth of Clear Creek. The latter half of September they were common at high altitudes and paid daily visits to our camp on upper Squaw Creek. At Sisson, apparently, they are always common.

Steller's Jay © 1999 Doug Von Gausig.

Entry 66. Perisoreus obscurus. Oregon Jay. [Perisoreus canadensis Gray Jay]

Unaccountably rare on Shasta during our stay. On August 6, when in a dense part of the forest east of the lower end of Gray Butte, I saw a flock of Steller jays, and with them several birds I took to be Oregon jays in the dark plumage of the young. August 20 Vernon Bailey shot one on Horse Camp Trail at an altitude of 6,600 feet, and two days later saw ten in the fir forest between Squaw Creek and Mud Creek Canyon. September 28, on his way around the mountain, he saw three above the point where the wagon road crosses Ash Creek, at an altitude of about 5,900 feet, by far the lowest point at which the species was seen. On July 29, 1899, Walter K. Fisher saw about 15 Oregon jays on Horse Camp trail.

Entry 68. Nucifraga columbiana. Clark Crow; Nutcracker. [Clark's Nutcracker]

Clark crows are among the most common, most characteristic, and most interesting birds of the higher slopes of Shasta. In summer they are closely restricted to the Hudsonian zone and adjacent rocky slopes immediately above timberline, but in fall they wander far and wide in search of food and are liable to be seen almost anywhere. Two or three, apparently young of the year, visited Wagon Camp, at the lower edge of the Shasta firs, as early as August 8; and in September it was not unusual to see small flocks or single individuals flying over the chaparral belt between Wagon Camp and Sisson.

The usual food of the Clark crow--the large nut-like seeds of Pinus albicaulis--having failed in 1898, the birds were feeding mainly on insects. The stomachs of specimens killed at extreme timberline contained in some cases grasshopper only, in others chiefly beetles (Coleptera); of those killed lower down, in the alpine hemlocks and Shasta firs, chiefly small hairless greenish catepillars. They sometimes flew up to masses of yellow lichen, where they seemed to be picking out something to eat. On upper Squaw Creek, August 30, two were seen eating blueberries (F.A.M.). During hot afternoons the latter part of July they were often seen soaring and performing aerial antics above the forest, and also chasing insects in the air, launching out from the tree tops after them like flycatchers. As a rule, they are silent when feeding and noisy when flying about the white-bark pines. When on the ground they are very deliberate, and their broad heads and general form suggest gulls, particularly when the birds are moving away from the observer.

When searching for insects in the young hemlocks they sometimes began at the bottom and worked up, sometimes at the top and worked down. One day in early August a young-of-the-year, showing the true nutcracker spots on the breast, spent some time in camp, feeding in a small tree in our midst without showing the least annoyance at our presence. He began at the top and worked slowly downward, dropping from branch to branch and peering searchingly over the foliage and into the tufts of hemlock needles, often hanging almost bottom side up to pick off the small green caterpillars which infested both the hemlocks and the Shasta firs. We could plainly see him grasp the little catepillars crosswise and give a big gulp in swallowing them, as if bolting something several times as large. He went over a branch at a time, examining the whole of it carefully before moving to the one below, and sometimes went so far toward the tip that the slender branch bent down with its weight. Another bird reversed this order of procedure, and after finally reaching the top of the tree gave a jump, aided by a slight flap of the wings, and perched on the very top-most spring, when, gaining his balance, he opened his bill and uttered a little cry of exultation.

Clark crows were almost daily visitors to our camp among the alpine hemlocks on upper Squaw Creek until near the end of August, when they moved up to timberline to feed on the large wingless grasshoppers then abundant along the upper edge of the tongues of dwarf white-bark pines and on the lava-strewn pumice slopes at still higher elevations. Some were seen along the edge of the snow at an altitude of 11,000 feet, where dragon-flies, grasshoppers, and other insects were common.

Clark crow is a little larger than a blue jay, and his colors are put on in blocks. The body is gray; the wings and tail are black and white, in conspicuous contrast. Still, singular as it may seem, this coloration is both directive and protective. When in motion the bird is most conspicuous, the black and white patches flashing with great effect; but when quietly feeding on the ground among the gray lava rocks of the higher slopes it is not easily seen, the gray of the body resembling the gray rocks, the black markings the dark shadows. The coloration, however, is doubtless most protective at night when the bird is at roost in the trees and exposed to its worst enemies, presumably owls and martens. Contrasts of gray or white with black are among the most effective of disappearing colors at night--the black resembling patches of night shadow, the gray the interspaces.

The true home of the Clark crow is among the white-bark pines of the rocky wind-swept ridges not far from the region of perpetual snow. Here, from the thaws of early spring till the storms of approaching winter, not a day passes without his presence. He is a bold, powerful bird, a fit tenant for such a home, where his loud cry wakes the echoes of glacier cliffs a thousand times oftener than it reaches a human ear.