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diff --git a/33410-h/33410-h.htm b/33410-h/33410-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce382c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/33410-h/33410-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8444 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A-Birding on a Bronco by Florence A. Merriam. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A-Birding on a Bronco, by Florence A. Merriam + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A-Birding on a Bronco + +Author: Florence A. Merriam + +Release Date: August 11, 2010 [EBook #33410] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Emmy and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="392" height="600" alt="Coverimage" id="coverpage" title="" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> Although a few of the drawings +say "One half size", these drawings have been increased in size for this +HTML edition to allow better viewing of detail.</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='bbox'> +<div class="center"><b>Books by Florence A. Merriam.</b><br /><br /></div> + + +<div class="hang1">BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. In +Riverside Library for Young People. Illustrated. +16mo, 75 cents.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class="hang1">MY SUMMER IN A MORMON VILLAGE. 16mo, +$1.00.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class="hang1">A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. Illustrated. +16mo, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='center'> +HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boston and New York</span>.<br /> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="600" height="425" alt="MOUNTAIN BILLY UNDER THE GNATCATCHER'S OAK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MOUNTAIN BILLY UNDER THE GNATCATCHER'S OAK</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO</h1> + +<div class='center'>BY</div> +<h2>FLORENCE A. MERRIAM</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I do invite you ... to my house ...</span><br /> +after, we'll a-birding together.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span></span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><i>ILLUSTRATED</i><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 136px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="136" height="178" alt="The Riverside Press." title="" /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<small>BOSTON AND NEW YORK</small><br /> +HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY<br /> +<b>The Riverside Press, Cambridge</b><br /> +<small>1896</small><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1896,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> FLORENCE A. MERRIAM.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved.</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<i>The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A.</i><br /> + +Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.<br /> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PREFATORY NOTE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> notes contained in this book were taken +from March to May, 1889, and from March to +July, 1894, at Twin Oaks in southern California. +Twin Oaks is the post-office for the scattered +ranch-houses in a small valley at the foot of one +of the Coast Ranges, thirty-four miles north of +San Diego, and twelve miles from the Pacific.</p> + +<p>As no collecting was done, there is doubt +about the identity of a few species; and their +names are left blank or questioned in the list +of birds referred to in the text. In cases where +the plumage of the two sexes is practically identical, +and only slight mention is made of the +species, the sexes have sometimes been arbitrarily +distinguished in the text.</p> + +<p>Several of the articles have appeared before, +in somewhat different form, in 'The Auk,' 'The +Observer,' and 'Our Animal Friends;' all the +others are published here for the first time.</p> + +<p>The illustrations are from drawings of birds +and nests by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, and from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span> +photographs taken in the valley; together with +some of eucalyptus-trees from Los Angeles, for +the use of which I am indebted to the courtesy +of Dr. B. E. Fernow, Chief of the Division +of Forestry of the U. S. Department of Agriculture.</p> + +<p>In the preparation of the book I have been +kindly assisted by Miss Isabel Eaton, and have +received from my brother, Dr. C. Hart Merriam, +untiring criticism and advice.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +FLORENCE A. MERRIAM.<br /> +</div> +<div><span class="smcap">Locust Grove, N. Y.</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">July 15, 1896.</span><br /> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Our Valley</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Little Lover</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Like a Thief in the Night</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Was it a Sequel?</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little Prisoners in the Tower</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hints by the Way</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Around our Ranch-house</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pocket Makers</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Big Sycamore</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Among my Tenants</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Unnamed Bird</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hummers</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Shade of the Oaks</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Mysterious Tragedy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How I helped build a Nest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In our Neighbor's Door-yard</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Which was the Mother Bird?</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Rare Bird</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIX. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">My Blue Gum Grove</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mountain Billy under the Gnatcatcher's Oak.</td><td align='left'><i><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Our Valley</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Black-headed Grosbeak</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Rose-breasted Grosbeak</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In Hot Pursuit (Brewer's Blackbird and Bee-birds)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Lover (Western House Wren)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Trying Moment (Western House Wren)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nest of Western Gnatcatcher</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of California Woodpecker</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Red-headed Woodpecker (Eastern)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Jacob and Bairdi visiting the Old Nest Tree</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Arizona Hooded Oriole</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Baltimore Oriole (Eastern)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of California Chewink</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Eastern Chewink</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Valley Quail and Road-runner</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nest of the Bush-tit</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Pocket Nest in an Oak</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Big Sycamore</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Along the Line of Sycamores</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Black Phœbe</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Eastern Phœbe</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Hummer on her Bow-knot Nest</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Swing Nest of the Hummer</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Shady Bower</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Head of Green-tailed Chewink</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Nosebag Nest (Vigors's Wren)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Plain Titmouse in her Doorway</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Which was the Mother Bird? (Wren-tit and Lazuli Buntings)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>The Phainopeplas on the Pepper-tree</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Phainopepla's Nest in the Oak Brush Island</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Eucalyptus Avenue, showing Pollarded Trees on the Right</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Eucalyptus Wood stored for Market in a Eucalyptus Grove</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mountain Billy Deserted</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + +<h2>BIRDS REFERRED TO IN THE TEXT.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="BIRDS REFERRED TO IN THE TEXT"> +<tr><td align='left'>White Egret. <i>Ardea egretta.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Green Heron. <i>Ardea virescens anthonyi.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Spotted Sandpiper. <i>Actitis macularia.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Valley Quail. <i>Callipepla californica vallicola.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mourning Dove. <i>Zenaidura macroura.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Turkey Vulture. <i>Cathartes aura.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Hawk. <i>Buteo ——.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sparrow Hawk. <i>Falco sparverius deserticolus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Barn Owl. <i>Strix pratincola.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western Horned Owl. <i>Bubo virginianus subarcticus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Burrowing Owl. <i>Speotyta cunicularia hypogæa.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Road-runner. <i>Geococcyx californianus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>California Woodpecker. <i>Melanerpes formicivorus bairdi.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Red shafted Flicker. <i>Colaptes cafer.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Dusky Poor-will. <i>Phalænoptilus nuttalli californicus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Black-chinned Hummingbird. <i>Trochilus alexandri.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Rufous Hummingbird. <i>Selasphorus rufus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Arkansas Kingbird. <i>Tyrannus verticalis.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cassin's Kingbird. <i>Tyrannus vociferans.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Black Phœbe. <i>Sayornis nigrescens.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western Wood Pewee. <i>Contopus richardsonii.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Flycatcher. <i>Empidonax ——.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Horned Lark. <i>Otocoris alpestris chrysolæma.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>California Jay. <i>Aphelocoma californica.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Crow. <i>Corvus americanus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Yellow-headed Blackbird. <i>Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Red-winged Blackbird. <i>Agelaius phœnicius ——.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Arizona Hooded Oriole. <i>Icterus cucullatus nelsoni.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>Bullock's Oriole. <i>Icterus bullocki.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Brewer's Blackbird. <i>Scholocophagus cyanocephalus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western House Finch. <i>Carpodacus mexicanus frontalis.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Goldfinch. <i>Spinus ——.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>White-crowned Sparrow. <i>Zonotrichia leucophrys gambeli (?).</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Golden-crowned Sparrow. <i>Zonotrichia coronata.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Heerman's Song Sparrow. <i>Melospiza fasciata heermanni (?).</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Spurred Towhee or Chewink. <i>Pipilo maculatus megalonyx.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Green-tailed Towhee. <i>Pipilo chlorurus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>California Towhee. <i>Pipilo fuscus crissalis.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Black-headed Grosbeak. <i>Habia melanocephala.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western Blue Grosbeak. <i>Guiraca cærulea eurhyncha.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lazuli Bunting. <i>Passerina amœna.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Louisiana Tanager. <i>Piranga ludoviciana.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cliff Swallow. <i>Petrochelidon lunifrons.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Phainopepla. <i>Phainopepla nitens.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>White-rumped Shrike. <i>Lanius ludovicianus excubitorides.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Warbling Vireo. <i>Vireo gilvus (?).</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Hutton's Vireo. <i>Vireo huttoni (?).</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Least Vireo. <i>Vireo bellii pusillus (?).</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Long-tailed Chat. <i>Icteria virens longicauda.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>American Pipit. <i>Anthus pensilvanicus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>California Thrasher. <i>Harporhynchus redivivus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Vigors's Wren. <i>Thryothorus bewickii spilurus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western House Wren. <i>Troglodytes ædon aztecus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Plain Titmouse. <i>Parus inornatus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wren-tit. <i>Chamæa fasciata.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>California Bush-tit. <i>Psaltriparus minimus californicus.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western Gnatcatcher. <i>Polioptila cærulea obscura.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Varied Thrush or Oregon Robin. <i>Hesperocichla nævia.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Western Bluebird. <i>Sialia mexicana occidentalis.</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>OUR VALLEY.</div> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Climb</span> the mountain back of the house and +you can see the Pacific," the ranchman told me +with a gleam in his eye; and later, when I had +done that, from the top of a peak at the foot of +the valley he pointed out the distant blue mountains +of Mexico. Then he gave me his daughter's +saddle horse to use as long as I was his guest, that +I might explore the valley and study its birds to +the best advantage. Before coming to California, +I had known only the birds of New York +and Massachusetts, and so was filled with eager +enthusiasm at thought of spending the migration +and nesting season in a new bird world.</p> + +<p>I had no gun, but was armed with opera-glass +and note-book, and had Ridgway's Manual to turn +to in all my perplexities. Every morning, right +after breakfast, my horse was brought to the door +and I set out to make the rounds of the valley. +I rode till dinner time, getting acquainted with +the migrants as they came from the south, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +calling at the more distant nests on the way. +After dinner I would take my camp-stool and +stroll, through the oaks at the head of the valley, +for a quiet study of the nearer nests. Then once +more my horse would be brought up for me to +take a run before sunset; and at night I would +identify my new birds and write up the notes +of the day. What more could observer crave? +The world was mine. I never spent a happier +spring. The freedom and novelty of ranch life +and the exhilaration of days spent in the saddle +gave added zest to the delights of a new fauna. +In my small valley circuit of a mile and a half, +I made the acquaintance of about seventy-five +birds, and without resort to the gun was able to +name fifty-six of them.</p> + +<p>My saddle horse, a white bronco who went by +the musical name of Canello, had been broken by +a Mexican whose cruelty had tamed the wild blood +in his veins and left him with a fear of all swarthy +skins. Now he could be ridden bareback by +the little girls, with only a rope noose around his +nose, and was warranted to stand still before a +flock of birds so long as there was grass to eat. +He was to be relied on as a horse of ripe, experience +and mature judgment in matters of local +danger. No power of bit or spur could induce +him to set foot upon a piece of 'boggy land,' and +to give me confidence one of the ranchman's sons +said, "Wherever I've killed a rattlesnake from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +him he'll shy for years;" and went on to cite localities +where a sudden, violent lurch had nearly +sent him over Canello's head! What greater +recommendation could I wish?</p> + +<p>If the old horse had had any wayward impulses +left, his Mexican bit would have subdued them. +It would be impossible to use such an iron in the +mouth of an eastern horse. They say the Mexicans +sometimes break horses' jaws with it. From +the middle of the bit, a flat bar of iron, three quarters +of an inch wide, extended back four inches, +lying on the horse's tongue or sticking into the +roof of his mouth, according to the use of the +curb—there was no other rein. The bit alone +weighed sixteen ounces. The bridle, which came +from Enseñada in Lower California, then the seat +of a great gold excitement, was made of braided +raw-hide. It was all hand work; there was not a +buckle about it. The leather quirt at the end of +the reins was the only whip necessary. When I +left the ranch the bridle was presented to me, and +it now hangs behind my study door, a proud trophy +of my western life, and one that is looked upon +with mingled admiration and horror by eastern +horsemen.</p> + +<p>Canello and I soon became the best of friends. +I found in him a valuable second—for, as I had +anticipated, the birds were used to grazing horses, +and were much less suspicious of an equestrian +than a foot passenger—and he found in me a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +movable stake, constantly leading him to new +grazing ground; for when there was a nest to +watch I simply hung the bridle over the pommel +and let him eat, so getting free hands for opera-glass +and note-book. To be sure, there were +slight causes of difference between us. He liked +to watch birds in the high alfalfa under the sycamores, +but when it came to standing still where +the hot sun beat down through the brush and there +was nothing to eat, his interest in ornithology +flagged perceptibly. Then he sometimes carried +the rôle of grazing horse too far, marching off to +a fresh clump of grass out of sight of my nest +at the most interesting moment; or when I was +intently gazing through my glass at a rare bird, +he would sometimes give a sudden kick at a horsefly, +bobbing the glass out of range just as I was +making out the character of the wing-bars.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i019.jpg" width="600" height="335" alt="OUR VALLEY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">OUR VALLEY</span> +</div> + +<p>From the ranch-house, encircled by live-oaks, +the valley widened out, and was covered with orchards +and vineyards, inclosed by the low brush-grown +ridges of the Coast Mountains. It was a +veritable paradise for the indolent field student. +With so much insect-producing verdure, birds +were everywhere at all times. There were no long +hours to sit waiting on a camp-stool, and only here +and there a treetop to 'sky' the wandering birds. +The only difficulty was to choose your intimates.</p> + +<p>Canello and I had our regular beat, down past +the blooming quince and apricot orchard, along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +the brush-covered side of the valley where the migrants +flocked, around the circle through a great +vineyard in the middle of the valley, past a pond +where the feathered settlers gathered to bathe, +and so back home to the oaks again.</p> + +<p>I liked to start out in the freshness of the morning, +when the fog was breaking up into buff clouds +over the mountains and drawing off in veils over +the peaks. The brush we passed through was +full of glistening spiders' webs, and in the open +the grass was overlaid with disks of cobweb, flashing +rainbow colors in the sun.</p> + +<p>As we loped gayly along down the curving road, +a startled quail would call out, "Who-are-you'-ah? +who-are-you'-ah?" and another would cry "quit" +in sharp warning tones; while a pair would scud +across the road like little hens, ahead of the horse; +or perhaps a covey would start up and whirr over +the hillside. The sound of Canello's flying hoofs +would often rouse a long-eared jack-rabbit, who +with long leaps would go bounding over the flowers, +to disappear in the brush.</p> + +<p>The narrow road wound through the dense bushy +undergrowth known as 'chaparral,' and as Canello +galloped round the sharp curves I had to bend +low under the sweeping branches, keeping alert +for birds and animals, as well as Mexicans and +Indians that we might meet.</p> + +<p>This corner of the valley was the mouth of Twin +Oaks Canyon, and was a forest of brush, alive with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +birds, and visited only by the children whose small +schoolhouse stood beside the giant twin oak from +which the valley post-office was named. Flocks +of migrating warblers were always to be found +here; flycatchers shot out at passing insects; +chewinks scratched among the dead leaves and +flew up to sing on the branches; insistent vireos +cried <i>tu-whip' tu-whip' tu-whip' tu-wee'-ah</i>, coming +out in sight for a moment only to go hunting +back into the impenetrable chaparral; lazuli +buntings sang their musical round; blue jays—blue +squawkers, as they are here called—went +screaming harshly through the thicket; and the +clear ringing voice of the wren-tit ran down the +scale, now in the brush, now echoing from the +bowlder-strewn hills above. But the king of the +chaparral was the great brown thrasher. His +loud rollicking song and careless independent +ways, so suggestive of his cousin, the mockingbird, +made him always a marked figure.</p> + +<p>There was one dense corner of the thicket +where a thrasher lived, and I used to urge Canello +through the tangle almost every morning for the +pleasure of sharing his good spirits. He was not +hard to find, big brown bird that he was, standing +on the top of a bush as he shouted out boisterously, +<i>kick'-it-now, kick'-it-now, shut'-up shut'-up, +dor'-a-thy dor'-a-thy;</i> or, calling a halt in his mad +rhapsody, slowly drawled out, <i>whoa'-now, whoa'-now</i>. +After listening to such a tirade as this, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +was pleasant to come to an opening in the brush +and find a band of gentle yellow-birds leaning +over the blossoms of the white forget-me-nots.</p> + +<p>There were a great many hummingbirds in the +chaparral, and at a certain point on the road I +was several times attacked by one of the pugnacious +little warriors. I suppose we were treading +too near his nest, though I was not keen-eyed +enough to find it. From high in the air, he would +come with a whirr, swooping down so close over +our heads that Canello started uneasily and +wanted to get out of the way. Down over our +heads, and then high up in the air, he would swing +back and forth in an arc. One day he must have +shot at us half a dozen times, and another day, +over a spot in the brush near us,—probably, +where the nest was,—he did the same thing a +dozen times in quick succession.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the brush corner were a number +of pretty round oaks, in one of which the +warblers gathered. My favorite tree was in blossom +and alive with buzzing insects, which may +have accounted for the presence of the warblers. +While I sat in the saddle watching the dainty +birds decked out in black and gold, Canello +rested his nose in the cleft of the tree, quite unmindful +of the busy warblers that flitted about +the branches, darting up for insects or chasing +down by his nose after falling millers.</p> + +<p>One morning the ranchman's little girl rode<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +over to school behind me on Canello, pillion fashion. +As we pushed through the brush and into +the opening by the schoolhouse, scattered over +the grass sat a flock of handsome black-headed +grosbeaks, the western representative of the eastern +rose-breast, looking, in the sun, almost as red +as robins. They had probably come from the +south the night before. As we watched, they dispersed +and sang sweetly in the oaks and brush.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Grosbeaks"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 184px;"> +<img src="images/i024a.png" width="184" height="123" alt="Black-headed Grosbeak. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Black-headed Grosbeak.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 175px;"> +<img src="images/i024b.png" width="175" height="145" alt="Rose-breasted Grosbeak. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Rose-breasted Grosbeak.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>In the giant twin oak under whose shadow the +the little schoolhouse stood was an owl's nest. +When I stopped under it, nothing was to be seen +but the tips of the ears of the brooding bird. But +when I tried to hoot after the manner of owls, +the angry old crone rose up on her feet above the +nest till I could see her round yellow eyes and the +full length of her long ears. She snapped her +bill fiercely, bristled up, puffing out her feathers +and shaking them at us threateningly. Poor old +bird! I was amused at her performances, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +one of her little birds lay dead at the foot of the +tree, and I trembled for the others, for the school-children +were near neighbors. Surely the old +bird needed all her devices to protect her young. +One day I saw on one side of the nest, below +the big ears of the mother, the round head of a +nestling.</p> + +<p>It was pleasant to leave the road to ride out under +the oaks along the way. There was always the +delightful feeling that one might see a new bird +or find some little friend just gone to housekeeping. +One morning I discovered a bit of a wren +under an oak with building material in her bill. +She flew down to a box that lay under the tree +and I dismounted to investigate. A tin can lay +on its side in the box, and a few twigs and yellowish +brown oak leaves were scattered about in a +casual way, but the rusted lid of the can was half +turned back, and well out of sight in the inside +was a pretty round nest with one egg in it. I +was delighted,—such an appropriate place for a +wren's nest,—and sat down for her to come back. +She was startled to find me there, and stopped on +the edge of the board when just ready to jump +down. She would have made a pretty picture as +she stood hesitating, with her tail over her back, +for the sun lit up her gray breast till it almost +glistened and warmed her pretty brown head as +she looked wistfully down at the box. After +twisting and turning she went off to think the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +matter over, and, encouraged perhaps by my +whistle, came back and hopped down into the +little nest.</p> + +<p>Two weeks later I was much grieved to find +that the nest had been broken up. A horse had +been staked under the tree, but he could not have +done the mischief; for while the eggs were there, +the nest itself was all jumbled up in the mouth of +the can. I could not get it out of my mind for +days. You become so much interested in the families +you are watching that you feel as if their +troubles were yours, and are haunted by the fear +that they will think you have something to do +with their accidents. They had taken me on probation +at first, and at last had come to trust me—and +then to imagine that I could deceive them +and do the harm myself!</p> + +<p>When Canello and I left the brushy side of +the canyon and started across the valley, the +pretty little horned larks, whose reddish backs +matched the color of the road, would run on +ahead of us, or let the horses come within a few +feet of them, squatting down ready to start, but +not taking wing till it seemed as if they would +get stepped on. Sometimes one sat on a stone by +the roadside, so busy singing its thin chattering +song that it only flitted on to the next stone as +we came up; for it never seemed to occur to the +trustful birds that passers-by might harm them.</p> + +<p>One of our most interesting birds nested in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +holes in the open uncultivated fields down the +valley,—the burrowing owl, known popularly, +though falsely, as the bird who shares its nest +with prairie dogs and rattlesnakes. Though they +do not share their quarters with their neighbors, +they have large families of their own. We once +passed a burrow around which nine owls were sitting. +The children of the ranchman called the +birds the 'how-do-you-do owls,' from the way +they bow their heads as people pass. The owls +believe in facing the enemy, and the Mexicans +say they will twist their heads off if you go round +them times enough.</p> + +<p>One of our neighbors milked his cows out in a +field where the burrowing owls had a nest, and +he told me that his collie had nightly battles with +the birds. I rode down one evening to see the +droll performance, and getting there ahead of the +milkers found the bare knoll of the pasture peopled +with ground squirrels and owls. The squirrels +sat with heads sticking out of their holes, +or else stood up outside on their hind legs, with +the sun on their light breasts, looking, as Mr. +Roosevelt says, like 'picket pins.' The little +old yellowish owls who matched the color of the +pasture sat on the fence posts, while the darker +colored young ones sat close by their holes, matching +the color of the earth they lived in. As I +watched, one of the old birds flew down to feed +its young. A comical little fellow ran up to meet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +his parent and then scudded back to the nest hole, +keeping low to the ground as if afraid of being +seen, or of disobeying his mother's commands. +When the ranchman came with his cows the +small owls ducked down into their burrows out of +sight.</p> + +<p>Romulus, the collie, went up to the burrows +and the old owls came swooping over his back +screaming shrilly—the milkers told me that they +often struck him so violently they nipped more +than his hair! When the owls flew at him, +Romulus would jump up into the air at them, +and when they had settled back on the fence +posts he would run up and start them off again. +The performance had been repeated every night +through the nesting season, and was getting to be +rather an old story now, at least to Romulus. The +ranchman had to urge him on for my benefit, and +the owls acted as if they rather enjoyed the sport, +though with them there was always the possibility +that a reckless nestling might pop up its head +from the ground at the wrong moment and come +to grief. It would be interesting to know if the +owls were really disturbed enough to move their +nest another year.</p> + +<p>When Canello and I faced home on our daily +circuit of the valley, we often found the vineyard +well peopled. In April, when it was being cultivated, +there was a busy scene. All the blackbirds +of the neighborhood—both Brewer's and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +redwings—assembled to pick up grubs from the +soft earth. A squad of them followed close at +the plowman's heels, others flew up before his +horse, while those that lagged behind in their +hunt were constantly flying ahead to catch up, and +those that had eaten all they could sat around on +the neighboring grape-vines. The ranchman's +son told me that when he was plowing and the +blackbirds were following him, two or three 'bee-birds,' +as they call the Arkansas and Cassin's +flycatchers, would take up positions on stakes +overlooking the flock; and when one of the blackbirds +got a worm, would fly down and chase after +him till they got it away, regularly making their +living from the blackbirds, as the eagles do from +the fish hawks.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/i029.png" width="407" height="212" alt="In Hot Pursuit. (Brewer's Blackbird and Bee-birds.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">In Hot Pursuit.<br /> + +(Brewer's Blackbird and Bee-birds.)</span> +</div> + +<p>One day in riding by the vineyard, to my surprise +and delight I saw one of the handsome yellow-headed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +blackbirds sitting with dignity on a +grape-vine. Although his fellows often flock with +redwings, this bird did not deign to follow the +cultivator with the others, but flew off and away +while I was watching, showing his striking white +shoulder patches as he went. The distinguished +birds were sometimes seen assembled farther +down the valley; and I once had a rare pleasure +in seeing a company of them perched high on the +blooming mustard.</p> + +<p>The son of the ranchman told me an interesting +thing about the ordinary blackbirds. He +said he had seen a flock of perhaps five hundred +fly down toward a band of grazing sheep, and all +but a few of the birds light on the backs of sheep. +The animals did not seem to mind, and the birds +flew from one to another and roosted and rode +to their heart's content. They would drop to the +ground, but if anything startled them, fly back +to their sheep again. Sometimes he had seen +a few of the blackbirds picking out wool for +their nests by bracing themselves on the backs of +the sheep, and pulling where the wool was loose. +He had also seen the birds ride hogs, cattle, and +horses; but he said the horses usually switched +them off with their tails.</p> + +<p>On our way home we passed a small pond +made by the spring rains. Since it was the only +body of water for miles around, it was especially +refreshing to us, and was the rendezvous of all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +our feathered neighbors—how they must have +wished it would last all through the hot summer +months! As I rode through the long grass on +the edge of the pond, dark water snakes often +wriggled away from under Canello's feet; but he +evidently knew they were harmless, for he paid +no attention to them, though he was mortally +afraid of rattlers. I did not like the feeling that +any snake, however innocent, was under my feet, +so would pull him up out of the grass onto a flat +rock overlooking the pond.</p> + +<p>In the fresh part of the morning, before the +fog had entirely melted away, the round pool at +our feet mirrored the blue sky and the small +white clouds. If a breath of wind ruffled the +water into lines, in a moment more it was sparkling. +Along the margin of the water was a border +of wild flowers, pink, purple, and gold; on one +side stood a group of sycamores, their twisted +trunks white in the morning sun and their branches +full of singing birds; while away to the south a +line of dark blue undulating hills was crowned by +the peak from which we had looked off on the +mountains of Mexico. The air was ringing with +songs, the sycamores were noisy with the chatter +of blackbirds and bee-birds, and the bushes were +full of sparrows.</p> + +<p>There was an elder on the edge of the pond, +and the bathers flew to this and then flitted down +to the water; and when they flew up afterwards,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +lighted there to whip the water out of their feathers +and sun themselves before flying off. I +never tired watching the little bathers on the +beach. One morning a pipit came tipping and +tilting along the sand, peeping in its wild, sad +way. Another time a rosy-breasted linnet stepped +to the edge of the pond and dipped down daintily +where the water glistened in the sunshine, sending +a delicate circle rippling off from its own shadow. +Then the handsome white and golden-crowned sparrows +came and bathed in adjoining pools. When +one set of birds had flown off to dry their feathers, +others took their places. A pair of blackbirds +walked down the sand beach, but acted absurdly, +as if they did not know what to do in water—it +was a wonder any of the birds did in dry California! +Two pieces of wood lay in the shallows, +and the blackbirds flew to them and began to +promenade. The female tilted her tail as if the +sight of herself in the pond made her dizzy, but +the male finally edged down gingerly and took a +dip or two with his bill, after which both flew off.</p> + +<p>On the mud flats on one side of the pond, bee-birds +were busy flycatching, perching on sticks +near the ground and making short sallies over the +flat. Turtle doves flew swiftly past, and high +over head hawks and buzzards circled and let +themselves be borne by the wind.</p> + +<p>Swallows came to the pond to get mud for their +nests. A long line of them would light on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +edge of the water, and then, as if afraid of wetting +their feet, would hold themselves up by fluttering +their long pointed wings. They would get +a little mud, take a turn in the air, and come +back for more, to make enough to pay them for +their long journeys from their nests. Sometimes +they would skim over the pond without touching +the surface at all, or merely dip in lightly for a +drink in passing; at others they would take a +flying plunge with an audible splash. Now and +then great flocks of them could be seen circling +around high up against a background of clouds +and blue sky.</p> + +<p>One day I had a genuine excitement in seeing +a snow-white egret perched on a bush by the +water. I rode home full of the beautiful sight, +but alas, my story was the signal for the ranchman's +son to seize his gun and rush after the bird. +Fortunately he did not find him, although he did +shoot a green heron; but it was probably a short +reprieve for the poor hunted creature.</p> + +<p>Canello was so afraid of miring in the soft +ground that it was hard to get him across +some places that seemed quite innocent. He +would test the suspicious ground as carefully as +a woman, one foot at a time; and if he judged it +dangerous, would take the bits, turn around and +march off in the opposite direction. I tried to +force him over at first, but had an experience one +day that made me quite ready to take all suggestions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +in such matters. This time he was deceived +himself. We were on our homeward +beat, off in the brush beyond the vineyard. I +was watching for chewinks. We came to what +looked like an old road grown up with soft green +grass, and it was so fresh and tender I let Canello +graze along at will; while keeping my eyes +on the brush for chewinks. Suddenly Canello +pricked up his ears and raised his head with a +look of terror. Rattlesnakes or miring—it was +surely one or the other! When I felt myself sinking, +I knew which. I gave the horse a cut with +the quirt to make him spring off the boggy +ground, and looked off over his side to see how +far down he was likely to go, but found myself +going down backwards so fast I had to cling +to the pommel. I lashed Canello to urge him +out, and he struggled desperately, but it was no +use. We were sinking in deeper and deeper, and +I had to get off to relieve him of my weight. By +this time his long legs had sunk in up to his body. +On touching the ground I had a horrible moment +thinking it might not hold me; but it bore +well. Seizing the bridle with one hand and swinging +the quirt with the other, I shouted encouragement +to Canello, and, straining and struggling, he +finally wrenched himself out and stepped on <i>terra +firma</i>—I never appreciated the force of that expression +before! The poor horse was trembling +and exhausted when I led him up to high ground<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +to remount, and neither of us had any desire to +explore boggy lands after that.</p> + +<p>On our morning round, Canello and I attended +strictly to business,—he to grazing, I to observing; +but on our afternoon rides I, at least, felt that we +might pay a little more heed to the beauties of the +valley and the joys of horsebacking. Sometimes +we would be overtaken by the night fog. One +moment the mustard would be all aglow with sunshine; +at the next, a sullen bank of gray fog +would have risen over the mountain, obscuring the +sun which had warmed us and lighted the mustard; +and in a few moments it would be so cold +and damp that I would urge Canello into a lope +to warm our blood as we hurried home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> +<h2>II.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE LITTLE LOVER.</div> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 268px;"> +<img src="images/i036.png" width="268" height="267" alt="The Little Lover. (Western House Wren.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Little Lover.<br /> + +(Western House Wren.)</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='smcap'>On</span> my second +visit to California, +I spent +the winter in +the Santa Clara +valley, riding +among the foothills +of the Santa +Cruz Mountains, +where +flocks of Oregon +robins were resting +from the +labors of the +summer and passing the time until they could +fly home again; but when the first spring wild +flowers bloomed on the hills I shipped my little +roan mustang by steamer from San Francisco to +San Diego, and hurried south to meet him and +spend the nesting season in the little valley of +the Coast Mountains which, five years before, had +proved such an ideal place to study birds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>I went down early in March, to be sure to be in +time for the nesting season; but spring was so late +that by the last of April hardly a nest had been +built, and it seemed as if the birds were never +coming back. The weather was gloomy and the +prospect for the spring's work looked discouraging, +when one morning I rode over to the line of oaks +and sycamores at the mouth of Ughland canyon +I had not visited before. In this dry, treeless +region of southern California only a little water +is needed to cover the bare valley bottoms with +verdure. The rushing streams that flow down +the canyons after the winter rains fill their mouths +with rich groves of brush, oaks and sycamores; +while lines of trees border the streams as far as +they extend down the valleys. Before the streams +go far, the thirsty soil drinks them up, leaving +only dry beds of sand bordered by trees, until the +rains of the following winter. In April, the water +in this particular canyon mouth had already disappeared, +and the wide sand bed under the trees +alone remained to tell of the short-lived stream. +But the resulting verdure was enough to attract +the birds. Apparently a party of travelers had +just arrived. The brush and trees were full of +song—yellowbirds, linnets, chewinks, doves, +wrens, and, best of all, a song sparrow,—bless his +heart!—singing as if he were on a bush in New +York state. It was more cheering than anything +I had heard in California.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>When able to listen to something besides song +sparrows, I realized that from the trees in front of +me was coming the rippling merry song of a wren. +Wrens are always interesting,—droll, individual +little scraps,—and having found their nests in +sycamore holes before, I let my horse, Mountain +Billy, graze nearer to the tree from which the +sound came. Before long the small brown pair +flew away together across the oat field that spread +out from the mouth of the canyon. While they +were gone, I took the opportunity to inspect the +tree, and found a large hole with twigs sticking +out suggestively. Presently, back flew one of the +wrens with more building material. But this line +of sycamores was off from the highway, and the +bird was not used to prying equestrians; so when +she found Mountain Billy and me planted in front +of her door, she doubted the wisdom of showing +us that it was her door. Chattering nervously, +she would back and fill, flying all but to the door +and then flitting off again. She could not make +up her mind to go inside. But soon her mate +came and—unmindful of visitors, ardent little +lover that he was—sang to her so gayly that it +put her in heart; and before I knew it she had +slipped into the tree.</p> + +<p>Here was a nest, at last, right over my eye. +To encourage myself while waiting for something +to happen, I began a list with the heading NESTS, +when something caught my eye overhead, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +glancing up, behold, a goldfinch walked down a +branch and seated herself in a round cup! A few +moments later—buzz—whirr—a hummingbird +flew to a nest among the brown leaves of one of +the low-hanging oak sprays not ten feet away! +I simply stared with delight and astonishment. +No need of a list for encouragement now. From +Billy's back I could look down into the little cup, +which seemed the tiniest in the world. Forgetting +the little lover and his mate, I sat still and watched +this small household.</p> + +<p>The young were out of the eggs, though not +much more, and their mother sat on the edge of +the nest feeding them. She curved her neck over +till her long bill stood up perpendicularly, when +she put it gently into the gaping bills of her young; +the smallest of bills, not more than an eighth of +an inch long, I should judge. I never saw hummingbirds +fed so gently. Probably the small +bills and throats were so delicate the mother was +afraid they would not bear the usual jabbing and +pumping.</p> + +<p>When the little ones were fed, the old bird got +down in the nest, fluffing her feathers about her +in a pretty motherly way and settling herself comfortably +to rest, apparently ignoring the fact that +Billy was grazing close beside her. She may +have had her qualms, but no mother bird would +leave her tender young uncovered on such a cold +morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>While she was on the nest, there was an approaching +whirr, followed by a retreating buzz—had +the father bird started to come to the nest +and fled at sight of me? Remembering the evidence +Bradford Torrey collected to prove that the +male bird is rarely seen at the nest, I wondered +if his absence might be explained by his usually +noisy flight, for it would attract the notice of man +or beast.</p> + +<p>Two days later I carefully touched the tip of +my finger to the back of one of the tiny hummingbirds,—it +was very skinny, I regret to state,—and +at my touch the little thing opened its wee +bill for food. That day the mother fed the birds +in the regulation way, when we were only four +feet distant. I was near enough to see all the +horrors of the performance. She thrust her bill +down their throats till I felt like crying out, "For +mercy's sake, forbear!" She plunged it in up to +the very hilt; it seemed as if she must puncture +their alimentary canals.</p> + +<p>While waiting for the wrens, I buckled Billy's +bridle around the sycamore and threw myself +down on the warm sand under the beautiful tree. +The little horse stood near, outlined against the +blue sky, with the sunlight dappling his back, +while I looked up into the light green foliage of +the white sycamore overhead. There seemed to +be a great deal of light stored in these delicate +trees. The undersides of the big, soft, white leaves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +looked like white Canton flannel; the sunlight +mottled the whitish bark of the trunks and +branches; and a great limb arched above me, +making a high vaulted chamber whose skylights +showed the deep blue above.</p> + +<p>But there were the little lover and his mate, +and I must turn my glass on them. She came +first, with long streamers hanging from her bill, +and at sight of me got so flustered that one of her +straws slipped out and went sailing down to the +ground. When the pair had gone again, two +linnets came along. The female saw the wren's +doorway, and being in search of apartments flew +up to look at the house. When she came out +she and her mate talked it over and, apparently, +she told him something that aroused his curiosity—perhaps +about the wren's twigs she found +inside—for he flew into the dark hole and looked +around as she had done. Then both birds went +off to inspect other holes in the tree. The master +of the wren cottage came back in time to see them +on their rounds, and taking up his position in +front of his door sang out loudly, with wings +hanging and a general air of, "This is <i>my</i> house, +I'd have you understand!"</p> + +<p>When the lord of the manor had flown away, +his lady came. I thought perhaps he had told +her of the visitors and she had come to see if +they had disturbed any of her sticks, for she +brought no material. She was afraid to go to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +nest in my presence, but flew to a branch near by +and leaned down so far it was a wonder she didn't +tip over as she stared anxiously at the hole—a +bad way to keep a secret, my little lady! I thought. +When her merry minstrel came, his song again +gave her courage and she flew inside, turning in +the doorway, however, to look out at me.</p> + +<p>But what with horses grazing under her windows +and linnets making free with her nest, the +poor wren was unsettled in her mind. Possibly it +would be wiser to take out her sticks and build +elsewhere. She went about looking at vacant +rooms and examined one opening in the side of +the trunk where I could see only her profile as +she hung out of the hole.</p> + +<p>For some time the timid bird would not accept +Mountain Billy and me as part of her immediate +landscape, and I watched the premises a number +of days, getting nothing but my labor for my +pains, as far as wrens were concerned.</p> + +<p>One day when she did not come, I thought it +was a good chance to get a study of the hummingbird's +nest; but alas!—the delicate little +structure hung torn and dangling from the twig, +with nothing to tell what had become of the +poor little hummers. I moralized sadly upon +the mutability of human affairs as I took the tattered +nest and tied it up in a corner of my handkerchief; +for it was all that was left of the little +home built with such exquisite care and brooded +over so tenderly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>The yellowbird's nest came to an untimely end, +too, although its start was such a bright one. It +was a disappointment, for the goldfinches are such +trustful birds and so affectionate and tender in +their family relations that they always win one's +warm interest. At first, when this mother bird +went to the nest, her mate stationed himself on +the nest tree, leaning over and looking down anxiously +at Billy and me; but before their home +was broken up the watchful guardian fed his +pretty mate at her brooding when we were below.</p> + +<p>We had a great many visitors while waiting +for the wrens: neighbors came to sit in our +green shade, young housekeepers came looking for +rooms to rent, and old birds who were leading +around their noisy families came to dine with us. +Once a pair of flickers started to light in the tree, +but they gave a glance over the shoulder at me +and fled. Later I found their secret—down inside +an old charred stump up the canyon. Occasionally +I got sight of gay liveries in the green +sycamore tops. A Louisiana tanager in his coat +of many colors stopped one day, and another time, +when looking up for dull green vireos, my eye +was startled by a flaming golden oriole. The +color was a keen pleasure. Lazuli buntings, relatives +of our eastern indigo-bird, sang so much +within hearing that I felt sure they were nesting +in the weeds outside the line of sycamores—I +did find a pair building in the malvas beyond; a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +pair of bush-tits, cousins of the chickadees, came +with one of their big families; California towhees +often appeared sitting quietly on the branches; +linnets were always stopping to discuss something +in their emphatic way; clamorous blue jays rushed +in and set the small birds in a panic, but seeing +me quickly took themselves off; and a pair of +wary woodpeckers hunted over the sycamore +trunks and worked so cautiously that they had +finished excavating a nest only just out of my +sight on the other side of the wren tree trunk +before I seriously suspected them of domestic +intentions.</p> + +<p>One day, when watching at the tree, a great +brown and black lizard that the children of the +valley call the 'Jerusalem overtaker' came +worming down the side of an oak that I often +leaned against. The rough bark seemed such a +help to it that I imagined the wrens had done +wisely in choosing a smooth sycamore to build +in. I looked narrowly at their nest hole with +the thought in mind and saw that the birds had +another point of vantage in the way the trunk +bulged at the hole—it did not seem as if a large +lizard could work itself up the smooth slippery +rounding surface, however much given to eggs for +breakfast. But in the West Indies lizards walk +freely up and down the marble slabs, so it is dangerous +to say what they cannot do.</p> + +<p>Billy had a surprise one day greater than mine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +over the lizard. He was grazing quietly near +where I sat under the wren tree, when he suddenly +threw up his head. His ears pointed forward, +his eyes grew excited, and as he gazed his +head rose higher and higher. I jumped from the +ground and put my hand on the pommel ready to +spring into the saddle. As I did so, across the +field I caught a glimpse of a great fawn-colored +animal with a white tip to its tail, bounding +through the brush—a deer! Then I heard +voices through the trees and saw the red shawl +of a woman in a wagon rumbling up the road +the deer must have crossed.</p> + +<p>When Mountain Billy and I pulled ourselves +together and started after the deer, the poor horse +was so unstrung he made snakes of all the sticks +he saw and shied at all imaginable bugaboos along +the way. We were too late to see the deer again, +but found the marks of its hoofs where it had +jumped a ditch and sunk so deep in the fine sand +on the other side that it had to take a great leap +to recover itself.</p> + +<p>The sight of the deer made Billy as nervous as +a witch for days. Every time we went to visit +the wrens he would stand with eyes glued to the +spot where it had appeared, and when a jack-rabbit +came out of the brush with his long ears up, +Billy started as if he thought it would devour +him. I was perplexed by his nervousness at first, +but after much pondering reasoned it out, to my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +own satisfaction at least. His name was Mountain +Billy, and in the days when he had been a +wayward bucking mustang he lived in the Sierra. +Now, even in the hills surrounding our valley, +colts were killed by mountain lions. How much +more in the Sierra. Mountain lions are large +fawn-colored animals: that was it: Mountain +Billy was suffering from an acute attack of association +of ideas. The sight of the deer had awakened +memories of the nightmare of his colthood +days.</p> + +<p>We made frequent visits to the wren tree, and +both my nervous little horse and I had a start one +morning, for as we rode in, a covey of quail flew up +with a whirr from under the tree in front of us.</p> + +<p>When the wren had become reconciled to us +she worked rapidly, flying back and forth with +material, followed by her mate, who sang while she +was on the nest and chased away with her afterwards. +Often when she appeared in the doorway +ready to go, his song, which had been just a merry +round before, at sight of her would suddenly +change to a most ecstatic love song. He would +sit with drooping tail, his wings sometimes shaking +at his sides, at others raised till they almost +met over his back, trembling with the excitement +of his joy. This peculiar tremulous motion of the +wings was marked in both wrens; their emotions +seemed too large for their small bodies.</p> + +<p>I found the wrens building, the last of April.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +The third week in May the little lover was singing +as hard as ever. I wrote in my note-book—"Wrens +do not take life with proper seriousness, +their duties certainly do not tie them down." +When the eggs were in the nest, if her mate sang +at her door, the mother bird would fly out to him +and away they would go together; for it never +seemed to occur to the care-free lover that he +might brood the eggs in her absence.</p> + +<p>When the young hatched, however, affairs took +a more serious turn. Mother wren at least was +kept busy looking for spiders, and later, when +both were working together, if not hunting among +the green treetops, the pretty little brown birds +often flew to the ground and ran about under the +weeds to search for insects. Once when the +mother bird had flown up with her bill full, she +suddenly stopped at the twig in front of the nest, +looking down, her tail over her back wren fashion, +the sun on her brown sides, and her bill bristling +with spiders' legs.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;"> +<img src="images/i048.png" width="257" height="523" alt="A Trying Moment." title="" /> +<span class="caption">A Trying Moment.</span> +</div> + +<p>On June 7 I noticed a remarkable thing. For +more than five weeks, all through the building +and brooding, the little lover had been acting as +if on his honeymoon—as if the nest were a joke +and there were nothing for him to do in the world +but sing and make love to his pretty mate—as +if life were all 'a-courtin'.' On this day he first +came to the tree with food, sang out for his spouse, +gave her the morsel, and flew off. Later in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +morning he brought food and his mate carried it to +the young. But afterwards, when she started to +take a morsel from him, behold! he—the gay, frivolous +little beau, +the minstrel lover—actually +acted as +if he didn't want +to give it up, as if +he wanted to feed +his own little birds +himself. With +wings trembling at +his sides he turned +his back on his +mate and started +to walk down the +branch away from +her! But he was +too fond of her to +even seem to refuse +her anything, and +so, coming back, +gave her the morsel. +She probably +divined his +thought, and, let +us hope, was glad +to have him show an interest in his children at +last; at all events, when he came again with food +and clung to the tip of a drooping twig waiting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +although she first lit above him and came down +toward him with bill wide open and wings fluttering +in the pretty, helpless, coquettish way female +birds often tease to be fed; suddenly, as if remembering, +she flew off, and—he went in to the +nest himself! It was a conquest; the little lover +was not altogether lacking in the paternal instinct +after all! I looked at him with new +respect.</p> + +<p>On June 12 I wrote: "The wrens seem to have +settled down to business." It was <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'delighful'">delightful</ins> to +find the small father actually taking turns feeding +the young. I saw him feed his mate only +once or twice, and noticed much less of the quivering +wings, though after leaving the nest he would +sometimes light on a branch and move them +tremulously at his sides for a moment. June 15 I +wrote: "The birds are feeding rapidly to-day. I +hear very little song from the male; probably he +has all he can attend to. I'd like to know how +many young ones there are in that hole." At +all events, the voices of the young were getting +stronger and more insistent, and it is no bagatelle +to keep half a dozen gaping mouths full of spiders, +as any mother bird can tell. This particular +mother wren, however, seemed to enjoy her cares. +She often called to the young from a branch in +front of the nest before going in, and stopped to +call back to them with a motherly-sounding <i>krup-up-up</i> +as she stood in the entrance on leaving.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>One day as one of the old birds stood in the +doorway its mate flew into the nest right over its +head. The astonished doorkeeper was so startled +that it took to its wings.</p> + +<p>Before this, in watching the wrens, I had +looked off across a sunny field of golden oats, +against the background of blue hills. On June +14, when I went to the nest, the mowers had been +at work around the sycamores and the oat-field +was full of cocks. Just as the wren was most +anxious for peace and quietness, for a safe world +into which to launch her brood, up came this rout +of haymakers with all their clattering machines, +laying low the meadows to her very door.</p> + +<p>No wonder the little bird met me with nerves +on edge. When the eggs had first hatched, she +had objected to me, but mildly. To be sure, once +when she found me staring she flew away over my +head, scolding as much as to say, "Stop looking +at my little birds," and finding me there when +she came back, shook her wings at her sides and +scolded hard, though her bill was full; but still +her disapproval did not trouble me; it was too +sociable. But now, for some time, affected by +the shadow of coming events, she had been growing +more and more fidgety under my gaze, darting +inside, then whisking back to the door to look at +me, in again to her brood and out to me, over and +over like a flash—or, like a poor little troubled +mother wren, distracted lest her unruly youngsters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +should pop out of the hole in the tree trunk when +I was below to catch them.</p> + +<p>On this day, when the wren came up from the +dark nest pocket and found me below, she called +back to her little ones in such distress that I felt +reproached. By gazing fixedly through my glass +into the dark hole I could see the head of a +sprightly nestling pop up and turn alertly from +side to side as if returning my inspection. The +old wren's calls made me think of a human mother +who can no longer control her big wayward +offspring and has to entreat them to do as she +bids. It was as if she said, "Oh, <i>do</i> be good children, +<i>do</i> keep still; <i>do</i> put your heads back; you +<i>naughty</i> children, you <i>must</i> do as I tell you!"</p> + +<p>On June 16, six weeks after I had found the +birds building, I wrote in my note-book: "I am +astonished every morning when I come and find +the wrens still here, but perhaps it's easier feeding +them in one spot than it would be chasing around +after them in half a dozen different places."</p> + +<p>The young were chattering inside the nest. +They all talked at once as children will, but one +small voice assumed the tones of the mother; +probably the oldest brother speaking with the air +of authority featherless children sometimes assume +with the weaker members of the family. When a +parent came, I saw the big brother's head pop up +from behind the wall,—the nest was in a pocket +below,—and by the time the old bird got there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +with food the big throat blocked the way for the +little ones down behind. Sometimes I could see +a flutter of small wings and tails, when the birds +were being fed.</p> + +<p>As nothing happened, I went off to watch another +nest, but in an hour was back to make sure +of seeing the small wrens when they left the +nest. A loud continuous scolding met me on approaching, +and one of the old wrens, with bill full +of insects, flew—not up to the nest—but down +in among the weeds! In less than an hour that +whole brood of wrens had flown, and were three +or four rods away in the high weeds—safe! I +was taken aback. They had stolen a march on +me. Surely I had not been treated as was fit +and proper, being one of the family!</p> + +<p>It was amusing to see the young ones fly. They +whirled away on their wings as if they had been +flitting around in the big world always; but their +stubby tails sadly interfered with their progress, +and they came to earth before they meant.</p> + +<p>Weak cries came from the young hidden in the +weeds. They could fly, but it was different from +being safe inside a tree trunk! I hardly recognized +their weak appealing voices, after the stentorian +tones that had issued from the old nest.</p> + +<p>The weeds were a most admirable cover, and +the dead stalks sticking up through them served +as sentry posts, from which the old birds scolded +me when I followed too close on their heels. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +youngsters sometimes appeared on the stalks, and +looked very pert on their long legs with their +short tails cocked over their backs.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon I went again to see the little +family to which I had become so much attached +and which were now slipping away from me. +They had been led farther up the canyon, where, +at a turn in the dry bed of the stream, the thick +cover of weeds was still more protected by brush +and overhanging trees, and the whole thicket +was warmed by the afternoon sunshine. The old +birds were busily flying back and forth feeding +their invisible young. They scolded me as they +flew past, but kept right on with their work.</p> + +<p>There was little use trying to keep track of the +brood after that, and I thought I had given them +up quite philosophically, reflecting that it was +pleasant to leave them in such a sunny protected +place. Still, day after day in riding along the +line of sycamores on my way to other nests, it +gave me a pang of loneliness to pass the old deserted +wren tree where I had spent so many happy +hours; and though the sycamores were silent, I +could always hear and see the little lover singing +to his pretty mate.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> +<h2>III.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> watching the little lover and his brood, +I heard familiar voices farther down the line of +oaks, voices of little friends I had made on my +first visit to California, and had always remembered +with lively interest as the jauntiest, most +individual bits of humanity I had ever known in +feathers. So, when Mountain Billy and I could +be spared by the other bird families we were +watching, we set out to hunt up the little bluish +gray western gnatcatchers.</p> + +<p>The (sand) stream that widened under the +wren's sycamores narrowed up the canyon to a—dry +ditch, I should say, if it were not disrespectful +to speak that way of a channel that once a year +carries a torrent which excavates canals in the +meadows. Billy and I started up this sand ditch, +so narrow between its weed-grown banks that +there was barely room for us, and so arched over +in places by chaparral that we could get through +only when Billy put down his ears and I bowed +low on the saddle.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 408px;"> +<img src="images/i055.png" width="408" height="378" alt="Nest of Western Gnatcatcher. (From a photograph.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Nest of Western Gnatcatcher.<br /> + +(From a photograph.)</span> +</div> + +<p>We had not gone far before we heard the gnatcatchers, +bluish gray mites with heads that are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +always cocked on one side or the other to look +down at something, and long tails that are always +flipping about as their owners flaunt gayly through +the bushes: At sound of their voices I pulled +Billy up out of the ditch, and, slipping from his +back, sat down on the ground to wait for the +birds. Eureka! there, in a slender young oak +on the edge of the stream not a rod away, one of +the pair was gliding off its nest, a beautiful lichen-covered, +compact little structure such as I had +admired years before. I was jubilant. What a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +relief! I had fully expected it to be inside the +dense brush, where no mortal could tell what was +going on; and here it was out in the plain light +of day. What a delightful time I should have +watching it! Before leaving the spot, in imagination +I had followed the brood out into the +world and filled a note-book with the quaint airs +and graces of the piquant pair.</p> + +<p>When insinuating yourself into the secrets of +the bird world, it is not well to be too obtrusive +at first: it is a mistake to spend the day when +you make your first call; so contenting myself +with thinking of the morrow, and fixing the small +oak in my memory, I took myself off before the +blue-gray should tell on me to her mate. As I +rose to go, a dove flew out of the oak—she had +been brooding right over my head. Another nest, +and a mourning dove's, one of the most gentle and +winning of birds! Surely my good star was in +the ascendent!</p> + +<p>The next day, forgetful of this second nest, I +rode Billy right up under the oak, and was startled +to find the pretty dove sitting quietly over +our heads, looking down at us out of her gentle +eyes. It was a pleasant surprise. She let me +talk to her, but when I had dismounted Billy +tramped around so uneasily that the saddle caught +in the oak branches and scared the poor bird +away. I had hardly seated myself when the jaunty +little gnatcatcher came flying over and lit in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +upper branch of the tree. What a contrast she +was to the quiet dove! With many flirts of the +tail she hopped down to the nest, jumping from +branch to branch as if tripping down a pair of +stairs. When she dropped into her deep cup +her small head stuck up over one edge, her long +tail pointed over the other.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>I looked away a moment, and on glancing back +found the nest empty. On the instant, however, +came the sound of my small friend's voice. Such +a talkative little person!—not one of your creep-in-and-out-of-the-nest-without-anybody's-knowing-it +kind of a bird, not she! Her remarks sounded +as if made over my head, and when Billy stamped +about the brush and rapped the saddle trying to +switch off flies, I imagined guiltily that they were +addressed to me; but while I wondered if she +would keep away all the rest of the morning because +she had discovered me, back she came, talking +to herself in complaining tones and whipping +her tail impatiently, even after she stood on the +edge of the nest, evidently absorbed in her own +affairs, quite to the exclusion of the person down +in the brush who thought herself so important!</p> + +<p>My doves were attending to me, however, altogether +too much. The brooding bird was anxious +to go to her nest. After flying out where she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +could see me, she whizzed toward it; but, fearful, +hesitated and talked it over with her mate—both +birds cooed with inflated breaths. After +that the branches rattled overhead, but even then, +though my back was turned, the timid bird dared +not stay. She must make another inspection. +From an opposite oak she peered through the +branches, moving her head excitedly, and calling +out her impressions to her mate. Meanwhile, he +had flown down the sand stream and called back +quite calmly. I, also, cooed reassuringly to her, +and soon she quieted down and began to plume her +feathers on the sunny branch. As the gnatcatchers +did not honor us with their attention even +when Billy stalked around in plain sight, I moved +a little closer to their nest to give the dove more +freedom; and soon the gentle bird slipped back +to her brooding.</p> + +<p>Before leaving I went to see the dove in the +oak, and spoke caressingly to her, admiring her +soft dove-colored feathers and shining iridescent +neck. She was on her own ground there, and felt +that she could safely be friends, so she only +winked in the sun, paying no heed to her mate +when he called warningly. It was especially +pleasant to watch this reserved lady-like bird, +after the flippant tell-all-you-know little gnat.</p> + +<p>On going away, Billy and I took a run up the +canyon. Billy was in high spirits, and went +racing up the narrow road, winding and turning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +through the chaparral, brushing me against the +the stiff scrub oak and loping under low branches +so fast that the sharp leaves snapped back, stinging +my cheeks. We had a gay ride, with a spice +of excitement thrown in; for on our way home, in +the thick dust across our path, besides the pretty +quail tracks that made wall-paper patterns on the +road, were the straight trails of gopher snakes, +and the scalloped one of a rattlesnake we had +been just too late to meet.</p> + +<p>At our next session with the blue-grays, when +she was on the nest, her mate came back to relieve +her and cried in his quick cheerful way, +"Here I am, here I am!" Either she was taking +a nap or didn't want to stir, for she didn't +budge till he called insistently, "<i>Here</i> I am, <i>here</i> +I am!" Then he hopped down in her place, and +raising his head above the nest, remarked again, +as if commenting upon the new situation, "Here +I am!"</p> + +<p>It was quite a different matter when she came +back to work. She only called "hello," not even +hinting that he should make way for her, but he +hopped off at the first sound of her voice, flying +away promptly to another tree and calling back +like a gleeful boy let out of school, "Here I am!"</p> + +<p>She was no more eager to go to the nest than +he, however, and once when she came flirting +leisurely along from twig to twig, she stopped a +long time on the edge of the nest and leaned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +over, presumably to arrange the eggs; perhaps +she and her mate had different views as to their +proper positions. The next time I visited the +gnats, she acted as if she really could not make +up her mind to settle down to brooding on such a +beautiful morning. The fog had cleared away +and the air was fresh and full of life; goldfinches +and lazuli buntings were singing merrily, and +light-hearted vireos were shouting <i>chick-a-de-chick'-de-villet'</i> +from the brush. How much pleasanter +it would be for such an airy fairy to go off +for a race with her mate than to settle down demurely +tucked into a cup! "Tsang," she cried +impatiently as she flew up to catch a fly. She +flirted about the branches, whipped up in front of +the nest, couldn't make up her mind to go in, +and flounced off again. But the eggs would get +cold if she didn't cover them, so back she came, +hopped up on the edge of the nest, and stood +twisting and turning, glancing this way and that +as though for a fly to chase, till she happened to +look down at the eggs; then she whipped her +tail, dropped in and—jumped out again!</p> + +<p>During the morning when she was away and +her mate was waiting for her to come back to +'spell' him, he too got impatient. He hopped +out of the nest crying, "Now here I am, quick, +come quick!" and as he flew off, sang out in his +funny little soliloquizing way, "Well, here I go; +here I go!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>His restless spouse had only just settled down +when a wren-tit—a wren-like bird with a long +tail—flew into a bush near her oak, and she +darted out of the nest to snap her bill over his +head. I thought it merely an excuse to leave +her brooding. Calling out "tsang," she again +flew at the brown bird who was hopping around +in the bush, so innocently, as I thought. Conqueror +for the moment, she flaunted back to the +nest, and after much ado finally settled down.</p> + +<p>For a time all was quiet. Hearing the low +cooing of doves, I went to talk to the pretty bird +in the oak, and she let me come near enough to +see her bluish bill and quiet eyes. As I returned +to the gnatcatchers, a chewink was hoeing in the +sand stream. Again the wren-tit approached +stealthily. I watched with languid interest till he +got to the gnat's tree. The instant he touched +foot upon her domain, she dashed down at him, +crying loudly and snapping her bill in his face. +The brown bird dodged her blows, held his footing +in spite of her, and slowly made his way up +to the nest. I was astonished and frightened. +He leaned over the nest, and—what he actually +did I could not see, for by that time the blue-gray's +cries had called her mate and they were +both screaming and diving down at him as if they +would peck his eyes out; and it sounded as if +they hit him on the back good and hard.</p> + +<p>A peaceful lazuli bunting, hearing the commotion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +came to investigate, but when she saw what +was happening held back against the side of a +twig as though afraid of getting struck, and soon +flew off, having no desire to get mixed up in that +affray.</p> + +<p>When the wren-tit had at last been driven from +his position, the gnatcatchers flew up into a tree +and, standing near together, talked the matter +over excitedly. Then one of them went back to +the nest, reached down into it and brought up +something that it appeared to be eating. Its mate +went to the nest and did the same, after which +one of them flew away with a broken eggshell. +When the little creatures turned away from the +plundered nest they broke out into cries of distress +that were pitiful to hear. I felt indignant +at the wren-tit. How could a bird with eggs of +its own do such a cruel thing? But then, I reflected, +we who pretend to be better folks than +wren-tits do not always spare our neighbors because +of our own troubles. When the poor birds +had carried away their broken eggshell, one of +them came and tugged at the nest lining till it +pulled out a long horsehair and what looked like +a feather, apparently trying to take out everything +that the egg had soiled.</p> + +<p>When the little housekeeper was working over +her nest, a brown towhee flew into the tree. On +the instant there was a flash of wings—the gnat +was ready for war. But after a fair look at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +big peaceful bird, she flew to the next tree without +a word—she evidently knew friends from +enemies. I never liked the towhee so well before. +But though the blue-gray had nothing to say +against her neighbor sitting up in the tree if he +chose, her nerves were so unstrung that when she +lit in the next tree she cried out "tsang" in an +overburdened tone. It sounded so unlike the +usual cry of the light-hearted bird, it quite made +me sad.</p> + +<p>Whether the poor little gnatcatchers did not +recover from this attack upon their home, and took +their nest to pieces to put it up elsewhere, as birds +sometimes do; or whether the stealthy wren-tit +again crept in like a thief in the night to plunder +his neighbor's house, I do not know; but the next +time I went to the oak the nest was demolished. +It was a sorry ending for what had promised to +be such an interesting and happy home.</p> + +<p>My poor dove's nest had a tragic end, too. +What happened I do not know, but one day the +body of a poor little pigeon lay on the ground +under the nest. My sympathies went out to both +mothers, but especially to the gentle dove, now a +mourner, indeed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> +<h2>IV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WAS IT A SEQUEL?</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the wren-tit stole in like a thief in the +night and broke up the pretty home of the gnatcatchers, +I suspected that they took their house +down to put it up again in a safer place, and so +was constantly on the lookout to find where that +safer place was. At last, one day, I heard the +welcome sound of their familiar voices, and following +their calls finally discovered them flying +back and forth to a high branch on an old oak-tree; +both little birds working and talking together. +Mind, I do not stake my word on this +being the same pair of gnats; but the nest followed +closely on the heels of the plundered one, +which was a point in its favor, and, being anxious +to take up the lines with my small friends +again, I let myself think they were the birds +of the sand ditch nest. It was such a delight to +find them that I deserted the nest I had been +watching, and went to spend the next morning +with my old friends. The tree they had chosen +was a high oak in an open space in the brush, +and they were building fifteen or twenty feet +above the ground—so high that it was necessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +to keep an opera-glass focused on the spot to see +what was going on at their small cup.</p> + +<p>As the birds worked, I was filled with forebodings +by seeing a pair of wren-tits on the premises. +They went about in the casual indifferent way +sad experience had shown might cover a multitude +of evil intentions, and which made me suspect +and resent their presence. How had they +found the poor little gnats? It was not hard to +tell. How could they help finding such talkative +fly-abouts? But if birds are in danger from all +the world, including those who should be their +comrades and champions, why should not builders +keep as still at the nest as brooding birds, +instead of heedlessly giving information to observers +that lurk about taking notes for future +misdeeds? But then, could gnatcatchers keep +still anywhere at any time? No, that was not to +be hoped for. I could only watch the little chatterers +from hour to hour and be thankful for +every day that their home was unmolested.</p> + +<p>It was interesting to see how the jaunty indifferent +gnats would act when settling down to +plain matters of business. Strange to say, they +proved to be the most energetic, tireless, and +skillful of builders. Their floor had been laid—on +the branch—before I arrived on the scene, +and they were at work on the walls. The plan +seemed to be twofold, to make the walls compact +and strong by using only fine bits of material and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +packing them tightly in together; while at the +same time they gave form to the nest and kept +it trim and shipshape by moulding inside, and +smoothing the rim and outside with neck and bill. +Sometimes the bird would smooth the brim as a +person sharpens a knife on a whetstone, a stroke +one way and then a stroke the other. When the +sides were not much above the floor, one bird +came with a bit of material which it proceeded to +drill into the body of the wall. It leaned over +and threw its whole weight on it, almost going +head first out of the nest, and had to flutter its +wings to recover itself. The birds usually got inside +to build, but there was a twig beside the nest +that served for scaffolding, and they sometimes +stood on that to work at the outside.</p> + +<p>At first they seemed to take turns at building, +working rapidly and changing places quite regularly; +but one morning when seated under the +oak I saw that things were not as they had been. +Perhaps a difference of opinion had arisen on +architectural points, and Mrs. Gnatcatcher had +taken matters into her own hands. At all events, +this is what happened: instead of rapid changes +of place, when one of the gnats was at work its +mate flew up and started to go to the nest, hesitated, +and backed away; then unwilling to give +up having a finger in the pie, advanced again. +This was kept up till the little bird put its pride +in its pocket, and gently gave over its cherished +bit of material to its mate at the nest!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now as these gnatcatchers had the bad taste to +dress so nearly alike that I could not tell them +apart, I was left to my own surmises as to which +took the material. Still, who could it have been +but Mrs. Gnat? Would she give over the house +to Mr. Gnat at this critical moment? She doubtless +wanted to decorate as she went along, and +men aren't supposed to know anything about +such trivial matters! On the other hand, it might +easily be he, for, supposing he had come of a family +of superior builders, surely he would want to +see to the laying of substantial walls; and unquestionably +a good wall was the important part +of this nest. Alas! it was a clear case of "The +Lady or the Tiger." To complicate matters, the +birds worked so fast, so high over my head, and +so hidden by the leaves, that I had much ado to +keep track of their exchanges at all. If I could +only catch them and tie a pink ribbon around one +of their necks!—then, at least, I would know +which was doing what, or if it was doing what it +hadn't done before! It is inconsiderate enough +of birds to wear the same kind of clothes, but to +talk alike too, when hidden by the leaves—that, +indeed, is a straw to break the camel's back. If +small gray gnatcatchers up in the treetops had +only been big black magpies low in the brush, my +testimony regarding their performances might be +of more value; but then, the magpies of my acquaintance +were so shy they would have none of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +me; so although life and field work are full of disappointments, +they are also full of compensations.</p> + +<p>Not being able to do anything better with the +gnat problems, I guessed at which was which—when +I saw No. 2 go to the nest and No. 1 reluctantly +make way as if not wanting No. 2 to meddle, +I drew my own conclusions, although they were +not scientifically final. I did see one thing that +was satisfactory, as far as it went. One of the +birds came with big tufts of stiff moss sticking out +from either side of its bill like great mustachios, +and going up to the nest, handed them to its mate—actually +something big enough for a person to +see, once! Whatever had been the birds' first +feeling as to which should put the bricks in the +wall, it was all settled now, and the little helpmate +flew off singing out such a happy good-by it made +one feel like writing a sermon on the moral effect +of renunciation. After that I was sure the little +helper fed his (?) mate on the nest, again singing +out good-by as he flitted away. Once when he (?) +brought material he found her (?) busy with what +she had, and so went to the other end of the +branch, and waited till she was ready for it, when +he flew back and gave it to her.</p> + +<p>It was a real delight to watch the little blue-grays +at their work. Once as one of them started +to fly away—I am sure this was she—she suddenly +stopped to look back at the nest as if to +think what she wanted to get next; or, perhaps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +just to get the effect of her work at a distance, +as an artist walks away from his painting; or as +any mother bird would stop to admire the pretty +nest that was to hold her little brood. Another +time one of the gnats,—I was sure this was he,—having +driven off an enemy, flipped his tail by the +nest with a paternal air of satisfaction. The birds +made one especially pretty picture; the little pair +stood facing each other close to the nest, and the +sun, filtering through the green leaves over their +heads, touched them gently as they lingered near +their home.</p> + +<p>One morning when a gnat was in the nest a +leaf blew down past it, startling it so it hopped +out in such a hurry that the first I knew it was +seated beneath the nest, flashing its tail.</p> + +<p>Back and forth the dainty pair flew across the +space of blue sky between the oak and the brush. +They went so fast and carried so little it seemed +as if they might have made their heads save their +heels—they brought so little I couldn't see that +they brought anything; but I feel delicate about +telling what I know about nest-making, and it +may be that this was just the secret of the wonderfully +compact solid walls of the nest; a little +at a time, and that drilled in to stay.</p> + +<p>When one of the small builders flew down near +me—within two yards—for material, I felt +greatly pleased and flattered. Her mate warned +her, but she paid no particular attention to him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +and with jaunty twists and turns hopped about on +the dead limbs, giving hurried jabs at the cobwebs +she was gathering. Once she rubbed her +little cheek against a twig as if a thread of the +cobweb had gotten in her eye. She dashed in +among the dead leaves after something, but flew +back with a start as if she had seen a ghost. She +was not to be daunted, however, and after whipping +her tail and peering in for a moment, hopped +bravely down again. Sometimes, when collecting +cobweb, the gnat would whip its tail and snap +its bill snip, snip, snip, as if cutting the web with +a pair of scissors.</p> + +<p>I was amused one day by seeing a gnat fly down +from the oak to the brush with what looked like a +long brown caterpillar. The worm dangling from +the tip of his beak was almost as large as the +bird, and the little fellow had to crook his tail to +keep from being overbalanced and going on his +bill to the ground.</p> + +<p>As the nest went up, the leaves hid it; but I +could still see the small wings and tails flip up +in the air over the edge of the cup and jerk about +as the bird moulded. I watched the workers so +long that I felt quite competent to build a nest +myself, till happening to remember that it required +gnatcatcher tools.</p> + +<p>Ornithologists are discouraging people to wait +for, and Mountain Billy got so restless under the +gnat tree that he had to invent a new fly-brush<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +for himself. On one side of the oak the branches +hung low to the ground, and he pushed into the +tangle till the green boughs rested on his back +and he was almost hidden from view. Meanwhile +I sat close beside the chaparral wall, where all +sorts of sounds were to be heard, suggestive of +the industries of the population hidden within the +brush at my back. Hearing small footsteps, I +peered in through the brown twigs, and to my +delight saw a pair of stately quail walking over +the ground, promenading through the brush avenues. +Afterwards I caught sight of a gray animal, +probably a wood rat, running down a branch +behind me, and heard queer muffled sounds of +gnawing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, looking back, I was startled to see a +big ringed brown and yellow snake lying like a +rope at the foot of the gnat's tree, just where I +had sat. He was about four feet long, and had +twenty-three rings. He started to wind into the +crotch of the oak as if meaning to climb the tree, +but instead, crept to a stump and festooned himself +about it worming around the holes as he +might do if looking for nest holes. Imagine how +a mother bird would feel to have him come stealing +upon her little brood in that horrid way! When +he crawled over the dead leaves I noted with a +shiver that he made no sound. Thinking of the +gnats, I watched his every movement till he had +left the premises and wormed his way off through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +the brush. Though quite engrossed with the +gnats, it was finally forced upon me that there is +more than one family in the world. The blue-gray's +oak was a favored one. A pair of hang-birds +had built there before the gnats came, and +now two more families had come, making four +for the big oak.</p> + +<p>When first suspecting a house on the north side +of the tree, I moved my chair over there. Presently +a vireo with disordered breast feathers flew +down on a dead twig close to the ground and +leaned over with a tired anxious look, and craning +her neck, turned her head on one side, and bent +her eyes on the ground scrutinizingly. Then she +hopped down, picked up something, threw it away, +picked up another piece and flew back to her perch +with it, as if to make up her mind if she really +wanted that. Then her mate came, raised his +crown and looked down at the bit of material with +a puzzled air as if wishing he knew what to say; +as if he felt he ought to be able to help her decide. +But he seemed helpless and could only follow her +around when she was at work, singing to her betimes, +and keeping off friends or enemies who +came too near. When the young hatched I noticed +a still more marked difference between the +nervous manners of the gnats, and the repose of +vireos. While the gnat flipped about distractedly, +the vireo sat calmly beside her nest, an exquisite +white basket hanging under the leaves in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +sun, or walked carefully over the branches looking +for food for the young. Some days before finding +out the facts, I suspected that the wood pewee +perching on the old tree had more important +business there, for the way he and his mate flew +back and forth to the oak top was very pointed. +So again I moved my chair. To my delight the +wood pewee flew up in the tree, sat down on a +horizontal crotch, and went through the motions +of moulding.</p> + +<p>There were two birds, however, that simply +used the tree as a resting-place, as far as I ever +knew. A hummingbird perched on the tip of +a twig, looking from below like a good sized +bumblebee as he preened his feathers and looked +off upon the world below. At the other side of +the oak a pretty pink dove perched on a sunny +branch that arched against the blue sky. It sat +close to the branch beside the green leaves and +dressed its feathers or dozed quietly in the sun. +We had other visitors that the house owners did +not accept so willingly. The gnatcatchers up the +sand ditch whose nest had been broken up by +the thief-in-the-night did not object to brown chippies, +but perhaps, if this were the same pair, they +had been made suspicious by their trouble. In +any case, when a brown chippie lit on a limb near +the nest, quite accidentally I believe, and turned +to look at the pretty structure, quite innocently I +feel sure, the little gnats fell on him tooth and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +nail, and when he hid under the leaves where they +could not reach him they fluttered above the +leaves, and the moment he ventured from under +cover were both at him again so violently that at +the first opportunity he took to his wings. There +was one curious thing about this attack and expulsion; +the gnats did not utter a word during +the whole affair! I had never known them to be +silent before when anything was going on—rarely +when there wasn't.</p> + +<p>Another morning when I rode in there was a +great commotion up in the oak. A chorus of +small scolding voices, and a fluttering of little +wings among the branches told that something +was wrong, while a large form moving deliberately +about in the tree showed the intruder to be +a blue jay! Aha! the gossips would wag their +heads. I disapprove of gossip, but as a truthful +reporter am obliged to say that I saw the blue jay +pitch down into the brush with something white +in his bill—perhaps a cocoon—and that thereupon +a great weeping and wailing arose from +the little folk up in the treetop. A big brown +California chewink stood by and watched the—robbery(?), +great big fellow that he was; and +not once offered to take the little fellows' part. +I felt indignant. Why didn't he pitch into the +big bully and drive him off before he had stolen +the little birds' egg—if it was an egg. A +grosbeak called <i>ick'</i> from the treetop, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +thought he'd better not meddle; and—it was +a pair of wren-tits who looked out from a brush +screen and then skulked off, chuckling to themselves, +I dare say, that some one else was up to +their tricks. It gave my faith in birds a great +shock, this, together with the pillage of the gnat's +nest by the thief-in-the-night. My spleen was +especially turned against the brown chewink; he +certainly was a good fighter, and might at least +have helped to clear the neighborhood of such a +suspicious character.</p> + +<p>Where did the egg—if it was an egg—come +from? The vireos and pewees and gnats were still +building, I reflected thankfully, though trembling +for their future; and fortunately the hangbird +had young. Perhaps the jay had found a nest +that I could not discover.</p> + +<p>After that, things went on quietly for several +days. The gnats got through with their building, +and went off for a holiday until it should be +time to begin brooding. They flitted about the +branches warbling, as if having nothing special to +do; dear little souls, at work as at play, always +together. One of them unexpectedly found himself +near me one day; but when he saw it was +only I, whipped his tail and exclaimed "<i>Oh, it's +you'. I'm' not afraid.</i>"</p> + +<p>This peace and quietness, however, did not last. +The gnats' house was evidently haunted, and they +did not like—blue—ghosts. One morning when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +I got to the oak it was all in a hubbub, and the +vireo was scolding loudly at a blue jay. When +the giant pitched into the brush the wren-tit chattered, +and I thought perhaps the jay was teaching +him how it feels to have a shoe pinch. A few +moments later I was amazed to see a gnat jab at +the wall till it got a bill full of material and then +fly off to the brush with it! My little birds had +moved! Evidently the neighborhood was too +exciting for them. More than ten days of hard +work—no one can tell how hard until after watching +a gnatcatcher build—had been spent in vain +on this nest; and if, as suspected, this was their +second, how much more work did that mean? +It was a marvel that the birds could get courage +to start in again, especially if they had had two +homes broken up already.</p> + +<p>From my position at the big oak I could see +that the gnats were carrying the frame of the +old house to a small oak in the brush. The +wood pewee had moved too, and to my surprise +and pleasure I found it had begun its nest on a +branch under the gnats, so that both families could +be watched at the same time. I nearly got +brushed off the saddle promenading through the +stiff chaparral to find a place where the nests +could be seen from the ground; but when at last +successful, I too, like the rest of the old oak's floating +population, moved to pastures new. Hanging +my chair on the saddle, I made Billy carry it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +for me; then I buckled the reins around the +trunk of the oak and withdrew into the brush to +watch my birds. It was a cozy little nook, from +which Billy could be heard stamping his feet to +shake off the flies. The little crack in the chaparral +was a pleasant place to sit in, protected as it +was from the wind, with the sun only coming in +enough to touch up the brown leaves on the ground +and warm the fragrant sage, bringing out its delicious +spicy aromatic smell.</p> + +<p>The pewee did not altogether relish having us +established under its vine and fig-tree. When it +saw Billy under the tree it whistled, and the bit +of grass it had brought for its nest went sailing +down to the brush disregarded. It did not think +us as bad as the blue jay, however, for it came +back with a long stem of grass in its bill, and, +lighting on a high branch, called <i>pee-ree</i>. To be +sure, when it had gone to the nest and I was inconsiderate +enough to turn a page in my note-book, +it dashed off. But if murder will out, so will +good intentions; and before long the timid bird +was brooding its nest with Billy and me for spectators.</p> + +<p>The gnat's nest here was so much lower than +the other one that it was much easier to watch. +The first day the birds built rapidly. One of +them got his spider's web from beside the pewee's +nest, when the pewee was away. He started to go +for it once after the owner had returned, caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +sight of him, stopped short, and much to my +amusement concluded to sit down and preen his +feathers! The pewee had one special bare twig +of his own that he used for a perch, and when +the gnat seated himself there in his neighbor's +absence he looked so small that I realized what a +mite of a bird he really was. He sometimes sat +there and talked while his mate moulded the nest.</p> + +<p>When the gnats got to brooding, many of the +same pretty performances were repeated that had +marked the first nest of all, up in the sand ditch. +When the bird on the nest hopped out and called, +"Come, come," its mate, who had been wandering +around in the sunny green treetop, called out +in sweet tones, "Good-by, good-by."</p> + +<p>When waiting for the gnats to do something, I +heard a little sound in the oak brush by my side, +and, looking through the brown branches, saw a +wren-tit come hopping toward me. It came up +within three feet of me, near enough to see its +bright yellow eyes. I began to wonder if it had +a nest near by, and felt my prejudices melting +away and my heart growing tender. Some thieves +are very honest fellows; it is largely a difference +in ethical standards! I began to feel a keen interest +in the bird and its affairs, for the wren-tit +was really a most original bird, and one I was +especially anxious to study.</p> + +<p>My newly awakened interest was not chilled by +any second tragedy; all went well with the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +blue-grays. The day the gnat's eggs hatched, +the old folks performed most ludicrously. Perhaps +they were young parents, and this being +their first brood, maternal and paternal love had +not yet blinded their eyes to the ridiculous; +so that they looked down on these skinny, squirming, +big-eyeballed prodigies with mingled emotions. +It looked very much as if they were surprised +to find that their smooth pretty eggs had +suddenly turned into these ugly, weak, hungry +things they did not know what to do with. At +first it seemed that something must be wrong at +the nest; the little gnat shook her wings and +tail beside it as if afraid of soiling herself; and +when she hopped into it, jerked out again and +flitted around distractedly. Every time the +birds looked into the nest they got so excited +that, had they been girls, they surely would have +hopped up and down wringing their hands. I +laughed right out alone in the brush, they acted +so absurdly.</p> + +<p>They began feeding the nestlings in the most +remarkable way I had ever witnessed. When the +young mother was on the nest her mate came +and brought her the food, whereupon, instead of +jumping off the nest and feeding the young in +the conventional way, she simply raised up on +her feet and, apparently, poked the food backwards +into the bills of the young under her +breast! Even when the gnats got to feeding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +more in the ordinary way, they did it nervously. +They fed as if expecting the young to bite them. +They would fly up on the branch beside the nest, +give a jab down at the youngsters, whip tails +and flee. You would have thought the young +parents had been playing house before, and +their dolls had suddenly turned into live hungry +nestlings.</p> + +<p>I watched this family till the house was deserted, +and I had to ride along a line of brush +before finding them. The young were now +pretty silvery-breasted creatures who sat up in a +small oak while the old birds hunted through the +brush for food for them. Though I rode Billy +into the chaparral after them, and got near +enough to see the black line over the bill of the +father bird, they did not mind, but hunted away +quite unconcernedly; for we had been through +many things together, and were now old and fast +friends.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> +<h2>V.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>LITTLE PRISONERS IN THE TOWER.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">I had</span> not spent many days in The Little +Lover's door-yard before realizing that there was +something in the wind. If an inoffensive person +fancies sitting in the shade of a sycamore +with her horse grazing quietly beside her, who +should say her nay? If, at her approach, a—feathered—person +steals away to the top of the +highest, most distant oak within sight and, silent +and motionless, keeps his eye on her till she +departs; if, as she innocently glances up at the +trees, she discovers a second—feathered—person's +head extended cautiously from behind a +trunk, its eyes fixed on hers; or if, as she passes +along a—sycamore—street, a person comes to +a window and cranes his neck to look at her, +and instantly leaves the premises; then surely, +as the world wags, she is quite justified in having +a mind of her own in the matter. Still +more, when it comes to finding chips under +a window—who could do aught but infer that +a carpenter lived within? Not I. And so +it came about that I discovered that one of the +apartments in the back of the wren sycamore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +had been rented by a +pair of well-meaning +but suspicious California +woodpeckers, first +cousins of the eastern +red-heads.</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Woodpeckers"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 215px;"> +<img src="images/i082a.png" width="215" height="224" alt="California Woodpecker. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">California Woodpecker.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 201px;"> +<img src="images/i082b.png" width="201" height="187" alt="Red-headed Woodpecker—Eastern. +(One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Red-headed Woodpecker—Eastern.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>It is unpleasant to +be treated as if you +needed detectives on +your track. It strains +your faith in human +nature; the rest of the +world must be very wicked if people suspect such +extremely good creatures as you are! And then +it reflects on the detectives; it shows them so +lacking in discernment. Nevertheless, "A friend +should bear his friend's infirmities," and I was +determined to be friends with the woodpeckers. +One of them kept me +waiting an hour one +morning. When I first +saw it, it was on its tree +trunk, but when it first +saw me, it promptly left +for parts unknown. I +stopped at a respectful +distance from its tree—several +rods away—and +threw myself down on +the warm sand in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +bed of the dry stream, between high hedges of +exquisite lemon-colored mustard. Patient waiting +is no loss, observers must remember if they +would be consoled for their lost hours. In this +case I waited till I felt like a lotus-eater who +could have stayed on forever. A dove brooded +her eggs on a branch of the spreading sycamore +whose arms were outstretched protectingly above +me; the sun rested full on its broad leaves, and +bees droned around the fragrant mustard, whose +exquisite golden flowers waved gently against a +background of soft blue California sky.</p> + +<p>But that was not the last day I had to wait. +It was over a month before the birds put any trust +in me. The nest hole was excavated before the +middle of May; on June 15 I wrote in my note-book, +"The woodpecker has gotten so that when +I go by she puts her head out of the window, and +when I speak to her does not fly away, but cocks +her head and looks down at me."<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> That same +morning the bird actually entered the nest in my +presence. She came back to her sycamore while +I was watching the wrens, and flew right up to the +mouth of the nest. She was a little nervous. She +poked in her bill, drew it back; put in her head, +drew that back; then swung her body partly in; +but finally the tip of her tail disappeared down +the hole.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> +<p>The next morning, in riding by, I heard weak +voices from the woodpecker mansion. If young +were to be fed, I must be on hand. Such luxurious +observing! Riding Mountain Billy out +into the meadow, I dismounted, and settled myself +comfortably against a haycock with the bridle +over my arm. It was a beautiful quiet morning. +The night fog had melted back and the mountains +stood out in relief against a sky of pure +deep blue. The line of sycamores opposite us +were green and still against the blue; the morning +sun lighting their white trunks and framework. +The songs of birds filled the air, and the +straw-colored field dotted with haycocks lay sunning +under the quiet sky. In the East we are +accustomed to speak of "the peace of evening," +but in southern California in spring there is a +peculiar interval of warmth and rest, a langorous +pause in the growth of the morning, between the +disappearance of the night fog and the coming of +the cool trade wind, when the southern sun shines +full into the little valleys and the peace of the +morning is so deep and serene that the labor of +the day seems done. Nature appears to be slumbering. +She is aroused slowly and gently by the +soft breaths that come in from the Pacific. On +this day I watched the awakening. Up to this +time not a grass blade had stirred, but while I +dreamed a brown leaf went whirling to the ground, +the stray stalks of oats left from the mowing began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +to nod, and the sycamore branches commenced +to sway. Then the breeze swelled stronger, coming +cool and fresh from the ocean; the yellow primroses, +around which the hummingbirds whirred, +bowed on their stately stalks, and I could hear the +wind in the moving treetops.</p> + +<p>Mountain Billy grazed near me till it occurred +to him that stubble was unsatisfactory, when he +betook him to my haycock. Though I lectured +him upon the rights of property and enforced my +sermon with the point of the parasol, he was soon +back again, with the amused look of a naughty +boy who cannot believe in the severity of his +monitor; and later, I regret to state, when I was +engrossed with the woodpeckers, a sound of +munching arose from behind my back.</p> + +<p>The woodpeckers talked and acted very much +like their cousins, the red-heads of the East. +When they went to the nest they called <i>chuck'-ah</i> +as if to wake the young, flying away with the +familiar rattling <i>kit-er'r'r'r'</i>. They flew nearly +half a mile to their regular feeding ground, and +did not come to the nest as often as the wrens +when bringing up their brood. Perhaps they got +more at a time, filling their crops and feeding by +regurgitation, as I have seen waxwings do when +having a long distance to go for food.</p> + +<p>I first heard the voices of the young on June +16; nearly three weeks later, July 6, the birds +were still in the nest. On that morning, when I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +went out to mount Billy, I was shocked to find the +body of one of the old woodpeckers on the saddle. +I thought it had been shot, but found it had been +picked up in the prune orchard. That afternoon +its mate was brought in from the same place. +Probably both birds had eaten poisoned raisins +left out for the gophers. The dead birds were +thrown out under the orange-trees near the house, +and not many hours afterward, when I looked out +of the window, two turkey vultures were sitting +on the ground, one of them with a pathetic little +black wing in his bill. The great black birds +seemed horrible to me,—ugly, revolting creatures. +I went outside to see what they would do, and +after craning their long red necks at me and stalking +around nervously a few moments they flew off.</p> + +<p>Now what would become of the small birds imprisoned +in the tree trunk, with no one to bring +them food, no one to show them how to get out, +or, if they were out, to feed them till they had +learned how to care for themselves? Sad and +anxious, I rode down to the sycamore. I rapped +on its trunk, calling <i>chuck'-ah</i> as much like the +old birds as possible. There was an instant answer +from a strong rattling voice and a weak piping +one. The weak voice frightened me. If that +little bird's life were to be saved, it was time to +be about it. The ranchman's son was pruning the +vineyard, and I rode over to get him to come and +see how we could rescue the little prisoners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>On our way to the tree we came on a gopher +snake four feet long. It was so near the color of +the soil that I would have passed it by, but the +boy discovered it. The creature lay so still he +thought it was dead; but as we stood looking, it +puffed itself up with a big breath, darted out its +tongue, and began to move off. I watched to see +how it made the straight track we so often saw in +the dust of the roads. It bent its neck into a +scallop for a purchase, while its tapering tail made +an S, to furnish slack; and then it pulled the +main length of its body along straight. It crawled +noiselessly right to the foot of the woodpecker +tree, but was only hunting for a hole to hide +in. It got part way down one hole, found that +it was too small, and had to come backing out +again. It followed the sand bed, taking my regular +beat, from tree to tree! To be sure, gopher +snakes are harmless, but they are suggestive, and +you would rather their ways were not your ways.</p> + +<p>Although the little prisoners welcomed us as +rescuers should be welcomed, they did it by mistake. +They thought we were their parents. At +the first blow of the axe their voices hushed, and +not a sound came from them again. It seemed as +if we never should get the birds out.</p> + +<p>It looked easy enough, but it wasn't. The nest +was about twelve feet above the ground. The +sycamore was so big the boy could not reach +around it, and so smooth and slippery he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +not get up it, though he had always been a good +climber. He clambered up a drooping branch on +the back of the tree,—the nest was in front,—but +could not swing himself around when he got +up. Then he tried the hollow burned at the foot +of the tree. The charred wood crumbled beneath +his feet, but at last, by stretching up and clinging +to a knothole, he managed to reach the nest.</p> + +<p>As his fingers went down the hole, the young +birds grabbed them, probably mistaking them for +their parents' bills. "Their throats seem hot," +the boy exclaimed; "poor hungry little things!" +His fingers would go through the nest hole, but not +his knuckles, and the knothole where he steadied +himself was too slippery to stand on while he enlarged +the hole. It was getting late, and as he had +his chores to do before dark I suggested that we +feed the birds and leave them in the tree till morning; +but the rescuer exclaimed resolutely, "We'll +get them out to-night!" and hurried off to the +ranch-house for a step-ladder and axe.</p> + +<p>The ladder did not reach up to the first knothole, +four or five feet below the nest; but the boy +cut a notch in the top of the knot and stood in it, +practically on one foot, and held on to a small +branch with his right hand—the first limb he +trusted to broke off as he caught it—while with +the left hand he hacked away at the nest hole. +It was a ticklish position and genuine work, for +the wood was hard and the hatchet dull.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>I stood below holding the carving-knife,—we +hadn't many tools on the ranch,—and as the boy +worked he entertained me with an account of an +accident that happened years before, when his +brother had chopped off a branch and the axe head +had glanced off, striking the head of the boy who +was watching below. I stood from under as he +finished his story, and inquired with interest if he +were sure his axe head was tight! Before the lad +had made much impression on the hard sycamore, +he got so tired and looked so white around the +mouth that I insisted on his getting down to rest, +and tried to divert him by calling his attention to +the sunset and the voices of the quail calling from +the vineyard. When he went up again I handed +him the carving-knife to slice off the thinner wood +on the edge of the nest hole, warning him not to +cut off the heads of the young birds.</p> + +<p>At last the hole was big enough, and, sticking +the hatchet and knife into the bark, the lad threw +one arm around the trunk to hold on while he +thrust his hand down into the nest. "My, what +a deep hole!" he exclaimed. "I don't know as +I can reach them now. They've gone to the bottom, +they're so afraid." Nearly a foot down he +had to squeeze, but at last got hold of one bird +and brought it out. "Drop him down," I cried, +"I'll catch him," and held up my hands. The +little bird came fluttering through the air. The +second bird clung frightened to the boy's coat, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +he loosened its claws and dropped it down to me. +What would the poor old mother woodpecker +have thought had she seen these first flights of +her nestlings!</p> + +<p>I hurried the little scared brothers under my +jacket, my best substitute for a hollow tree, and +called <i>chuck'-ah</i> to them in the most woodpecker-like +tones I could muster. Then the boy shouldered +the ladder, and I took the carving-knife, +and we trudged home triumphant; we had rescued +the little prisoners from the tower!</p> + +<p>When we had taken them into the house the +woodpeckers called out, and the cats looked up so +savagely that I asked the boy to take the birds +home to his sister to keep till they were able to +care for themselves. On examining them I understood +what the difference in their voices had +meant. One of them poked his head out of the +opening in my jacket where he was riding, while +the other kept hidden away in the dark; and when +they were put into my cap for the boy to carry +home, the one with the weak voice disclosed a +whitish bill—a bad sign with a bird—and its +feeble head bent under it so weakly that I was +afraid it would die.</p> + +<p>Three days later, when I went up to the lad's +house, it was to be greeted by loud cries from the +little birds. Though they were in a box with a +towel over it, they heard all that was going on. +Their voices were as sharp as their ears, and they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +screamed at me so imperatively that I hurried out +to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards +till I found some food for them. They +opened their bills and gulped it down as if starving, +although their guardian told me afterwards +that she had fed them two or three hours before.</p> + +<p>When held up where the air could blow on +them, they grew excited; and one of them flew +down to the floor and hid away in a dark closet, +sitting there as contentedly as if it reminded him +of his tree trunk home.</p> + +<p>I took the two brothers out into the sitting-room +and kept them on my lap for some time, +watching their interesting ways. The weak one I +dubbed Jacob, which is the name the people of +the valley had given the woodpeckers from the +sound of their cries; the stronger bird I called +Bairdi, as 'short' for <i>Melanerpes <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'formicivorous'">formicivorus</ins> +bairdi</i>—the name the ornithologists had given +them.</p> + +<p>Jacob and Bairdi each had ways of his own. +When offered a palm, Bairdi, who was quite like +'folks,' was content to sit in it; but Jacob hung +with his claws clasping a little finger as a true +woodpecker should; he took the same pose when +he sat for his picture. Bairdi often perched in +my hand, with his bill pointing to the ceiling, +probably from his old habit of looking up at the +door of his nest. Sometimes when Bairdi sat in +my hand, Jacob would swing himself up from my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +little finger, coming bill to bill with his brother, +when the small bird would open his mouth as he +used to for his mother to feed him. Poor little +orphans, they could not get used to their changed +conditions!</p> + +<p>They did other droll things just as their fathers +had done before them. They used to screw their +heads around owl fashion, a very convenient thing +for wild birds who cling to tree trunks and yet +need to know what is going on behind their backs. +Once, on hearing a sudden noise, one of them +ducked low and drew his head in between his +shoulders in such a comical way we all laughed at +him.</p> + +<p>I often went up to the ranch to visit them. We +would take them out under a big spreading oak +beside the house, where the little girl's mother sat +with her sewing, and then watch the birds as we +talked. When we put them on the tree trunk, +at first they did not know what to do, but soon +they scrambled up on the branches so fast their +guardian had to climb up after them for fear they +would get away. Poor little Jacob climbed as if +afraid of falling off, taking short hops up the side +of the tree, bending his stiff tail at a sharp angle +under him to brace himself against the bark. +Bairdi, his strong brother, was less nervous, and +found courage to catch ants on the bark. Jacob +did a pretty thing one day. When put on the +oak, he crept into a crack of the bark and lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +there fluffed up against its sides with the sun +slanting across, lighting up his pretty red cap. +He looked so contented and happy it was a pleasure +to watch him. Another time he started to +climb up on top of my head and, I dare say, was +surprised and disappointed when what he had +taken for a tree trunk came to an untimely end. +When we put the brothers on the grass, one of +them went over the ground with long hops, while +the other hid under the rocking-chair. One bird +seemed possessed to sit on the white apron worn +by the little girl's mother, flying over to it from +my lap, again and again.</p> + +<p>The woodpeckers had brought from the nest a +liking for dark, protected places. Bairdi twice +clambered up my hair and hung close under the +brim of my black straw hat. Another time he +climbed up my dress to my black tie and, fastening +his claws in the silk, clung with his head +in the dark folds as if he liked the shade. I covered +the pretty pet with my hand and he seemed +to enjoy it. When I first looked down at him his +eyes were open, though he kept very still; but +soon his head dropped on my breast and he went +fast asleep, and would have had a good nap if +Jacob had not called and waked him up.</p> + +<p>Jacob improved so much after the first few +days—and some doses of red pepper—that we +had to look twice to tell him from his sturdy brother. +He certainly ate enough to make him grow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +The birds liked best to be fed with a spoon; probably +it seemed more like a bill. After a little, +they learned to peck at their food, a sign I hailed +eagerly as indicative of future self-support; for +with appetites of day laborers and no one to +supply their wants, they would have suffered +sorely, poor little orphans! Sometimes, when they +had satisfied their first hunger, they would shake +the bread from their bills as if they didn't like it +and wanted food they were used to.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 342px;"> +<img src="images/i095.jpg" width="342" height="550" alt="JACOB AND BAIRDI VISITING THE OLD NEST TREE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">JACOB AND BAIRDI VISITING THE OLD NEST TREE</span> +</div> + +<p>When one got hungry he would call out, and +then his brother would begin to shout. The little +tots gave a crooning gentle note when caressed, +and a soft cry when they snuggled down in our +hands or cuddled up to us as they had done +under their mother's wing. Their call for food +was a sibilant chirr, and they gave it much oftener +than any of the grown-up woodpecker notes. +But they also said <i>chuck'-ah</i> and rattled like the +old birds.</p> + +<p>I was glad there were two of them so they would +not be so lonely. If separated they showed their +interest in each other. If Bairdi called, Jacob +would keep still and listen attentively, raising his +topknot till every microscopic red feather stood +up like a bristle, when he would answer Bairdi in +a loud manly voice.</p> + +<p>It was amusing to see the small birds try to +plume themselves. Sometimes they would take a +sudden start to make their toilettes, and both work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +away vigorously upon their plumes. It was comical +to see them try to find their oil glands. Had +the old birds taught them how to oil their feathers +while they were still in the nest? They were +thickly feathered, but when they reached back to +their tails the pink skin showed between their +spines and shoulders, giving a good idea of the +way birds' feathers grow only in tracts.</p> + +<p>When the little princes were about a month +old, I arranged with a neighboring photographer +to have them sit for their picture. He drove over +to the sycamore, and the lad who had rescued the +prisoners took them down to keep their appointment. +One of them tried to tuck its head up +the boy's sleeve, being attracted by dark holes. +While we were waiting for the photographer, the +boy put Jacob in a hollow of the tree, where he +began pecking as if he liked it. He worked away +till he squeezed himself into a small pocket, and +then, with his feathers ruffled up, sat there, the +picture of content. Indeed, the little fellow looked +more at home than I had ever seen him anywhere. +The rescuer was itching to put the little princes +back in their hole, to see what they would do, +but I wouldn't listen to it, being thankful to +have gotten them out once.</p> + +<p>When Bairdi was on the bark and Jacob was +put below him, he turned his head, raised his red +cap, and looked down at his brother in a very +winning way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>Soon the photographer came, and asked, "Are +these the little chaps that try to swallow your +fingers?" We were afraid they would not sit +still enough to get good likenesses, but we had +taken the precaution to give them a hearty breakfast +just before starting, and they were too sleepy +to move much. In the picture, Jacob is clinging +to the boy's hand in his favorite way, and Bairdi +is on the tree trunk.</p> + +<p>Mountain Billy pricked up his ears when he +discovered the woodpeckers down at the sycamore, +but he often saw them up at the ranch and took +me to make a farewell call on them before I left +for the East. We found the birds perched on the +tobacco-tree in front of the ranch-house, with a +tall step-ladder beside it so the little girl could +take them in at night. Their cup of bread and +milk stood on the ladder, and when I called them +they came over to be fed. They were both so +strong and well that they would soon be able to +care for themselves, as their fathers had done +before them. And when they were ready to fly, +they might have help; for an old woodpecker of +their family—possibly an unknown uncle—had +been seen watching them from the top of a neighboring +oak, and may have been just waiting to +adopt the little orphans. In any case, however +they were to start out in the world, it was a great +satisfaction to have rescued them from their +prison tower.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> +<h2>VI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>HINTS BY THE WAY.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> our way back and forth along the line of +oaks and sycamores belonging to the little prisoners, +the little lover, and the gnatcatchers, +Mountain Billy and I got a good many hints, he +of places to graze, and I of new nests to watch.</p> + +<p>While waiting for the woodpeckers one day +I saw a small brownish bird flying busily back +and forth to some green weeds. She was joined +by her mate, a handsome blue lazuli bunting, +even more beautiful than our lovely indigo bunting, +and he flew beside her full of life and joy. +He lit on the side of a cockle stem, and on the +instant caught sight of me. Alas! he seemed +suddenly turned to stone. He held onto that +stalk as if his little legs had been bars of iron +and I a devouring monster. When he had collected +his wits enough to fly off, instead of the +careless gay flight with which he had come out +through the open air, he timidly kept low within +the cockle field, making a circuitous way through +the high stalks.</p> + +<p>He could be afraid of me if he liked, I thought,—for +after a certain amount of suspicion an innocent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +person gets resentful; at any rate, I was +going to see that nest. Creeping up cautiously +when the mother bird was away, so as not to +scare her, and carefully parting the mallows, I +looked in. Yes, there it was, a beautiful little +sage-green nest of old grass laid in a coil. I felt +as pleased as if having a right to share the family +happiness.</p> + +<p>After that I watched the small worker gather +material with new interest, knowing where she +was going to put it. She worked fast, but did +not take the first thing she found, by any means. +With a flit of the wing she went in nervous haste +from cockle to cockle, looking eagerly about her. +Jumping down to the ground, she picked up a bit +of grass, threw it down dissatisfied, and turned +away like a person looking for something. At +last she lit on the side of a thistle, and tweaking +out a fibre flew with it to the nest.</p> + +<p>When the house was done, one morning in +passing I leaned down from the saddle, and +through the weeds saw her brown wings as she +sat on the nest. A month after the first encounter +with the father lazuli, I found him looking +at me around the corner of a cockle stalk, +and in passing back again caught him singing +full tilt, though his bill was full of insects! After +we had turned our backs, I looked over my shoulder +and had the satisfaction of seeing him take +his beakful to the nest. You couldn't help admiring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +him, for though not a warrior who would +snap his bill over the head of an enemy of his +home, he had a gallant holiday air with his blue +coat and merry song, and you felt sure his little +brown mate would get cheer and courage enough +from his presence to make family dangers appear +less frightful. Even this casual acquaintance +with the little pair gave me a new and tender +interest in all of their name I might know in +future.</p> + +<p>While watching the lazulis from the sycamores, +on looking up on a level with Billy's ears, I discovered +a snug canopied nest held by a jointed +branch of the twisted tree, as in the palm of your +hand. It was as if the old sycamore were protecting +the little brood, holding it secure from all +dangers. Looking at the nest, I spied a brown +tail resting against the limb, and then a small +brown head was raised to look at me from between +the leaves. It was the little bird whose +sweet home-like song had so cheered my heart in +this far-away land, the home song sparrow, dearer +than all the birds of California. It was such a +pleasure to find her that I sat in the saddle and +talked to the pretty bird while she brooded her +eggs under the green leaves.</p> + +<p>The next time we went down to the sycamore +the bird was away, and it seemed as if the tree +had been deserted. It was empty and uninteresting. +Again I came, and this time the father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +song sparrow sang blithely in the old tree, while +his gentle mate went about looking for food for +her brood. Her little birds had come! How +happy and full of business she seemed! She ran +nimbly over the ground, weaving in and out between +the stalks of the oats and the yellow mustard, +as if there were paths in her forest. When +she had to run across the sand bed, out in open +sight, she put up her tail, held her wings tight at +her sides, and scudded across. Then with the +sunlight through the leaves dappling her back, +she ran around the foot of the sycamore. She +had something in her bill, and with a happy +chirp was off to her brood.</p> + +<p>There was another family abroad on our beat. +When riding past the little lover's, I heard voices +of young birds beyond, and rode out to the oak +in the middle of the field from which they came, +to see who it was. It was a surprise to find a +family of full-fledged blue jays—a surprise, because +the jays had been terrorizing the small +birds of the neighborhood till it seemed strange +to think they had any family life themselves. I +had come to feel that they were great hobgoblins +going about seeking whom they could devour; +but such harsh judgments are usually false, +whether of birds or beasts, and I was convinced +against my will on hearing the tender tone in +which the old jays called to their young.</p> + +<p>To be sure, they were imperative in their commands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +As I rode, around the tree, one of them +looked at me sharply and proceeded to take +measures to protect his brood. When one of +the children told me where he was, his parent +promptly flew over and shouted in his ear, "Be +quiet!" with such a ring of command that an unbroken +hush followed. Moreover, when one child, +probably a greedy one, teased for food, its parent +ran down the branch to drive it off; and in +some way best known to themselves the old birds +hushed up the boisterous young ones and spirited +them out of my sight. But all these things were +in line with good family government and the best +interests of the children, and were more than +atoned for by the soft gentle notes the old birds +used when they were leading around their +cherished brood out of harm's way.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> +<h2>VII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Close</span> up under the hills, the old vine-covered +ranch-house stood within a circle of great spreading +live oaks. The trees were full of noisy, +active blackbirds—Brewer's blackbirds, relatives +of the rusty that we know in New York. The +ranchman told me that they always came up the +valley from the vineyard to begin gathering +straws for their nests on his brother's birthday, +the twenty-fifth of March. After that time it +was well for passers below to beware. If an +unwary cat, or even a hen or turkey gobbler, +chanced under the blackbirds' tree, half a dozen +birds would dive down at it, screaming and scolding +till the intruders beat an humble retreat. +But the blackbirds were not always the aggressors. +I heard a great outcry from them one day, +and ran out to find them collecting at the tree in +front of the house. A moment later a hawk flew +off with a young nestling, and was followed by an +angry black mob.</p> + +<p>One pair of the blackbirds nested in the oak +by the side of the house, over the hammock. +Though making themselves so perfectly at home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +on the premises, driving off the ranchman's cats +and gobblers, and drinking from his watering-trough, +if they were taken at close quarters, with +young in their nests, the noisy birds were astonishingly +timid. One could hardly understand it +in them.</p> + +<p>One afternoon I sat down under the tree to +watch them. Mountain Billy rested his bridle +on my knee, and the ranchman's dog came out to +join us; but the mother blackbird, though she +came with food in her bill and started to walk +down the branch over our heads, stopped short +of the nest when her eye fell on us. She shook +her tail and called <i>chack</i>, and her mate, who sat +near, opened wide his bill and whistled <i>chee</i>. +The small birds were hungry and grew impatient, +seeing no cause for delay, so raised their +three fuzzy heads above the edge of the nest and +sent imperative calls out of their three empty +throats. As the parents did not answer the summons, +the young dozed off again, but when the +old ones did get courage to light near the nest +there was such a rousing chorus that they flew off +alarmed for the safety of their clamorous brood. +After that outbreak, it seemed as if the mother +bird would never go back to her children; but +finally she came to the tree and, after edging +along falteringly, lit on a branch above them. +The instant she touched foot, however, she was +seized with nervous qualms and turned round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +and round, spreading her tail fan-fashion, as if +distracted.</p> + +<p>To my surprise, it was the father bird who first +went to the nest, though he had the wit to go to +it from the outside of the tree, where he was less +exposed to my dangerous glance. I wondered +whether it was mother love that kept her from +the nest when he ventured, or merely a case of +masculine common-sense versus nerves. How +birds could imagine more harm would be done by +going to the nest than by making such a fuss five +feet away from it was a poser to me. Perhaps +they attribute the same intelligence to us that +some of us do to them!</p> + +<p>While the blackbirds were making such a time +over our heads, I watched the hummingbirds +buzzing around the petunias and pink roses under +the ranch-house windows, and darting off to +flutter about the tubular flowers of the tobacco-tree +by the well. One day the small boy of the +family climbed up to the hummingbird's nest in +the oak "to see if there were eggs yet," and the +frightened brood popped out before his eyes. +His sister caught one of them and brought it into +the house. When she held it up by the open +door the tiny creature spread its little wings and +flew out into the vines over the window. The +child was so afraid its mother would not find it +she carried it back to its oak and watched till the +mother came with food. The hummers were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +about the flowers in front of the windows so +much that when the front door was left open +they often came into the room.</p> + +<p>In an oak behind the barn I found a hummingbird's +nest, and, yielding to temptation, took out +the eggs to look at them. In putting them back +one slipped and dropped on the hard ground, +cracking the delicate pink shell as it fell. The +egg was nearly ready to hatch, and I felt as guilty +as if having killed a hummingbird.</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="orioles"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 207px;"> +<img src="images/i107a.png" width="207" height="131" alt="Arizona Hooded Oriole. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Arizona Hooded Oriole.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 209px;"> +<img src="images/i107b.png" width="209" height="137" alt="Baltimore Oriole—Eastern. +(One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Baltimore Oriole—Eastern.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> + +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>When in the hammock under the oak one day, +I saw a pair of the odd-looking Arizona hooded +orioles busily going and coming to a drooping +branch on the edge of +the tree. They had +a great deal to talk +about as they went +and came, and when +they had gone I +found, to my great +satisfaction, that they +had begun a nest. +They often use the +gray Spanish moss, +but here had found a +good substitute in the +orange-colored parasitic +vine of the meadows +known among +the people of the valley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +as the 'love-vine' (dodder). The whole pocket +was composed of it, making a very gaudy nest.</p> + +<p>Linnets nested in the same old tree. Indeed, +it is hard to say where these pretty rosy house +finches, cousins of our purple finches, would not +take it into their heads to build. They nested +over the front door, in the vines over the windows, +in the oaks and about the outbuildings, and their +happy musical songs rang around the ranch-house +from morning till night. As I listened to their +merry roundelay day after day during that beautiful +California spring, it sounded to me as though +they said, "<i>How-pretty-it-is'-out, how-pretty-it-is'-out, +how-pretty-it-is'!</i>" The linnets are ardent +little wooers, singing and dancing before the indifferent +birds they would win for their mates. +I once saw a rosy lover throw back his pretty +head and hop about before his brown lady till +she was out of patience and turned her back on +him. When that had no effect, she opened her +bill, spread her wings, and leaned toward him as +if saying, "If you don't stop your nonsense, +I'll——" But the fond linnets' gallantry and tenderness +are not all spent in the wooing. When +the mother bird was brooding her nest over our +front door, her crimson-throated mate stood on the +peak of the ridgepole above and sang blithely to +her, turning his head and looking down every +little while to make sure that she was listening to +his pretty prattle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>One of the birds that nested in the trees by +the ranch-house was the bee-bird, who was soft +gray above and delicate yellow below, instead of +dark gray above and shining white below, like his +eastern relative, the kingbird. The birds used +to perch on the bare oak limbs, flycatching. It +was interesting to watch them. They would fly +obliquely into the air and then turn, with bills +bristling with insects, and sail down on outstretched +wings, their square tails set so that the +white outer feathers showed to as good advantage +as the white border of the kingbird's does in similar +flights. They made a bulky untidy nest in +the oaks by the barn, using a quantity of string +borrowed from the ranchman. Their voices were +high-keyed and shrill with an impatient emphasis, +and at a distance suggested the shrill yelping of +the coyote. <i>Kee'-ah, kee-kee' kee'-ah</i>, they would +cry. The wolves were so often heard around the +ranch-house that in the early morning I have +sometimes mistaken the birds for them.</p> + +<p>One of the favorite hunting-grounds of the bee-birds +was the orchard, where they must have done +a great deal of good destroying insects. They +were quarrelsome birds, and were often seen falling +through the air fighting vigorously. I saw +one chase a sparrow hawk and press it so hard +that the hawk cried out lustily. The ranchman's +son told me of one bee-bird who defended his +nest with his life. Two crows lit in a tree where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +the flycatcher had a nest containing eggs. The +crows had difficulty in getting to the tree to begin +with, for the bee-birds fought them off; and +though they lighted, were soon dislodged and +chased down the vineyard. The man was at work +there, and as the procession passed over his head +the bee-bird dove at the crow; the crow struck +back at him, crushing his skull, and the flycatcher +dropped through the air, dead! The other bee-bird +followed its dead mate to the ground, and +then, without a cry, flew to a tree and let the +crows go on their way.</p> + +<p>The bee-bird was one of the noisiest birds +about the ranch-house, but commoner than he; in +fact, the most abundant bird, next to the linnet +and blackbird, was the California chewink, or, as +the ranchman appropriately called him, the 'brown +chippie;' for he does not look like the handsome +chewink we know, but is a fat, dun brown bird +with a thin <i>chip</i> that he utters on all occasions. +He is about the size of the eastern robin, and, +except when nesting, almost as familiar. There +were brown chippies in the door-yard, brown chippies +around the barns, and brown chippies in the +brush till one got tired of the sight of them.</p> + +<p>The temptations that come to conscientious +observers are common to humanity, and one of +the subtlest is to undervalue what is at hand and +overvalue the rare or distant. Unless a bird is +peculiarly interesting, it requires a definite effort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +to sit down and study him in your own dooryard, +or where he is so common as to be an +every-day matter. The chippies were always sitting +around, scratching, or +picking up seeds; or else +quarreling among themselves. +Feeling that it was +my duty to watch them, I +reasoned with myself, but +they seemed so mortally +dull and uninteresting it +was hard work to give up +any time to them. When +they went to nesting, their wild instincts asserted +themselves, and they hid away so closely I was +never sure of but one of their nests, and that +only by most cautious watching. +Then for the first time +they became interesting! To +my surprise, one day I heard +a brown chippie lift up his +voice and sing. It was in a +sunny grove of oaks, and +though his song was a queer +squeaky warble, it had in it a +good deal of sweetness and +contentment; for the bird seemed to find life very +pleasant. The ranchman's son told me that up +in the canyons at dusk he had sometimes heard +towhee concerts, the birds answering each other +from different parts of the canyon.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Chewinks"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 177px;"> +<img src="images/i111a.png" width="177" height="159" alt="California Chewink. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">California Chewink.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div></td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 155px;"> +<img src="images/i111b.png" width="155" height="167" alt="Eastern Chewink. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Eastern Chewink.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a nest in the chaparral which probably +belonged to these chewinks. It was in a +mass of poison ivy that had climbed up on a +scrub-oak. I spent the best part of a morning +waiting for the birds to give in their evidence. +Brown sentinels were posted on high bare brush +tops, where they chipped at me, and once a brown +form flew swiftly away from the nest bush; but +like most people whose conversation is limited to +monosyllables, the towhees are good at keeping a +secret. While watching for them, I heard a noise +that suggested angry cats spitting at each other; +and three jack-rabbits came racing down the +chaparral-covered knoll. One of them shot off +at a tangent while the other two trotted along +the openings in the brush as if their trails were +roads in a park. Then a cottontail rabbit came +out on a spot of hard yellow earth encircled by +bushes, and lying down on its side kicked up its +heels and rolled like a horse; after which the +pretty thing stretched itself full length on the +ground to rest, showing a pink light in its ears. +After a while it got up, scratched one ear, and +with a kick of one little furry leg ran off in the +brush. Another day, when I sat waiting, I saw +a jack-rabbit's ears coming through the brush. +He trotted up within a few feet, when he stopped, +facing me with head and ears up; a noble-looking +little animal, reminding me of a deer with antlers +branching back. He stood looking at me, not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +knowing whether to be afraid or not, and turning +one ear trumpet and then the other. But though +smiling at him, I was a human being, there was +no getting around that; and after a few undecided +hops, this way and that, he ran off and disappeared +in the brush. Near where he had been +was a spot where a number of rabbit runways came +to a centre, and around it the rabbit council had +been sitting in a circle, their footprints proved.</p> + +<p>Brown chippies were not much commoner +around the ranch-house than western house wrens +were, but the big prosaic brown birds seemed +much more commonplace. The wrens were +strongly individual and winning wherever they +were met. They nested in all sorts of odd nooks +and corners about the buildings. One went so +far as to take up its abode in the wire-screened +refrigerator that stood outside the kitchen under +an oak! Another pair stowed their nest away in +an old nosebag hanging on a peg in the wine +shed; while a third lived in one of the old grape +crates piled up in the raisin shed.</p> + +<p>The crate nest was delightful to watch. The +jolly little birds, with tails over their backs and +wings hanging, would sing and work close beside +me, only three or four feet away. They would look +up at me with their frank fearless eyes and then +squeeze down through their crack into the crate, +and sit and scold inside it—such an amusing +muffled little scold! The nest was so astonishingly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +large I was interested to measure it. Twigs +were strewn loosely over one end of the box, +covering a square nearly sixteen inches on a side. +The compact high body of the nest measured +eight by ten inches, and came so near the top +of the crate that the birds could just creep in +under the slats. Some of the twigs were ten +inches long, regular broom handles in the bills of +the short bobbing wrens. One of the birds once +appeared with a twig as long as itself. It flew to +the side of a beam with it, at sight of me, and +stood there balancing the stick in its bill, in +pretty fashion. Another time it flew to the peak +of the shed to examine an old swallow's nest now +occupied by linnets, and amused itself throwing +down its neighbors' straws—the naughty little +rogue!</p> + +<p>Such jolly songsters! They were fairly bubbling +over with happiness all the time. They +had an old stub in front of the shed that might +well have been called the singing stub, for they +kept it ringing with music when they were not +running on inside the shed. They seemed to +warble as easily as most birds breathe; in fact, +song seemed a necessity to them. There was a +high pole in front of the shed, and one day I +found my ebullient little friend squatting on top +to hold himself on while he sang out at the top of +his lungs! Another time I came face to face +with a pair when the songster was in the midst of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +his roundelay. He stopped short, bobbed nervously +from side to side, and then, rising to his +feet and putting his right foot forward with a +pretty courageous gesture, took up his song again. +When the pair were building in the crate, I stuck +some white hen's feathers there, thinking they +might like to use them. Mr. Troglodytes came +first, and seeing them, instead of turning tail as +I have known brave guardians of the nest to do, +burst out singing, as if it were a huge joke. +Then he hopped down on the rim of the box to +scrutinize the plumes, after which he flew out. +But he had to stop to sing atilt of an elder stem +before he could go on to tell his spouse about +them.</p> + +<p>One day, when riding back to the ranch, I saw +half a dozen turkey buzzards soaring over the +meadow—perhaps there was a dead jack-rabbit +in the field. It was astonishing to see how soon +the birds would discover small carrion from their +great height. The ranchman never thought of +burying anything, they were such good scavengers. +A few hours after an animal was thrown +out in the field the vultures would find it. They +would stand on the body and pull it to pieces in +the most revolting way. The ranchman told me +he had seen them circle over a pair of fighting +snakes, waiting to devour the one that was injured. +They were grotesque birds. I often saw +them walk with their wings held out at their sides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +as if cooling themselves, and the unbird-like attitude +together with the horrid appearance of their +red skinny heads made them seem more like harpies +than before.</p> + +<p>They were most interesting at a distance. I +once saw three of them standing like black images +on a granite bowlder, on top of a hill overlooking +the valley. After a moment they set out +and went circling in the sky. Although they +flew in a group, it seemed as if the individual +birds respected one another's lines so as not to +cover the same ground. Sometimes when soaring +they seemed to rest on the air and let themselves +be borne by the wind; for they wobbled from +one side to the other like a cork on rough water.</p> + +<p>One of the most interesting birds of the valley +is the road-runner or chaparral cock, a grayish +brown bird who stands almost as high as a crow +and has a tail as long as a magpie's. He is noted +for his swiftness of foot. Sometimes, when we +were driving over the hills, a road-runner would +start out of the brush on a lonely part of the +road and for quite a distance keep ahead of the +horses, although they trotted freely along. When +tired of running he would dash off into the brush, +where he stopped himself by suddenly throwing +his long tail over his back. A Texan, in talking +of the bird, said, "It takes a right peart cur to +catch one," and added that when a road-runner is +chased he will rise but once, for his main reliance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +is in his running, and he does not trust much to +his short wings. The chaparral cocks nested in +the cactus on our hills, and were said to live +largely on lizards and horned toads.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 477px;"> +<img src="images/i117.png" width="477" height="530" alt="Valley Quail and Road-Runner." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Valley Quail and Road-Runner.</span> +</div> + +<p>It became evident that a pair of these singular +birds had taken up quarters in the chaparral on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +the hillside back of the ranch-house, for one of +them was often seen with the hens in the dooryard. +One day I was talking to the ranchman +when the road-runner appeared. He paid no +attention to us, but went straight to the hen-house, +apparently to get cocoons. Looking between +the laths, I could see him at work. He +flew up on the hen-roosts as if quite at home; he +had been there before and knew the ways of the +house. He even dashed into the peak of the roof +and brought down the white cocoon balls dangling +with cobweb. When he had finished his hunt +he stood in the doorway, and a pair of blackbirds +lit on the fence post over his head, looking down +at him wonderingly. Was he a new kind of +hen? He was almost as big as a bantam. They +sat and looked at him, and he stood and stared at +them till all three were satisfied, when the blackbirds +flew off and the road-runner walked out by +the kitchen to hunt among the buckets for food.</p> + +<p>These curious birds seem to be of an inquiring +turn of mind, and sometimes their investigations +end sadly. The windmills, which are a new thing +in this dry land, naturally stimulate their curiosity. +A small boy from the neighboring town—Escondido—told +me that he had known four +road-runners to get drowned in one tank; though +he corrected himself afterwards by saying, "We +fished out <i>one</i> before he got drowned!"</p> + +<p>Another lad told me he had seen road-runners<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +in the nesting season call for their mates on the +hills. He had seen one stand on a bowlder fifteen +feet high, and after strutting up and down +the rock with his tail and wings hanging, stop to +call, putting his bill down on the rock and going +through contortions as if pumping out the sound. +The lad thought his calls were answered from the +brush below.</p> + +<p>In April the ranchman reported that he had +seen dusky poor-wills, relatives of our whip-poor-wills, +out flycatching on the road beyond the +ranch-house after dark. He had seen as many as +eight or nine at once, and they had let him come +within three feet of them. Accordingly, one night +right after tea I started out to see them. The +poor-wills choose the most beautiful part of the +twenty-four hours for their activity. When I +went out, the sky above the dark wall of the valley +was a quiet greenish yellow, and the rosy +light was fading in the north at the head of the +canyon. White masses of fog pushed in from +the ocean. Then the constellations dawned and +brightened till the evening star shone out in her +full radiant beauty. Locusts and crickets droned; +bats zigzagged overhead; and suddenly from the +dusty road some black objects started up, fluttered +low over the barley, and dropped back on the +road again. At the same time came the call of +the poor-will, which, close at hand, is a soft burring +<i>poor-will, poor-wil'-low</i>. Two or three hours<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +later I went out again. The full moon had risen, +and shone down, transforming the landscape. +The road was a narrow line between silvered +fields of headed grain, and the granite bowlders +gleamed white on the hills inclosing the sleeping +valley. For a few moments the shrill barking of +coyote wolves disturbed the stillness; then again +the night became silent; peace rested upon the +valley, and from far up the canyon came the faint, +sad cry, <i>poor-wil'-low, poor-wil'-low</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>POCKET MAKERS.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> bush-tits are cousins of the eastern chickadees, +which is reason enough for liking them, +although the California fruit growers have a more +substantial reason in the way the birds eat the +scale that injures the olive-trees. The bush-tits +might be the little sisters of the chickadee family, +they are so small. They look like gray balls +with long tails attached, for they are plump fluffy +tots, no bigger than your thumb, without their +tails. One of them, when preoccupied, once came +within three feet of where I stood. When he +discovered me a comical look of surprise came +into his yellow eyes and he went tilting off, for +his long tail gave him a pitching flight as if he +were about to go on his bill, a flight that reminds +one of the tail that wagged the dog.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 387px;"> +<img src="images/i122.png" width="387" height="540" alt="Nest of the Bush-tit." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Nest of the Bush-tit.</span> +</div> + +<p>There were so many of the gray pocket nests +in the oaks that it was hard to choose which to +watch, but one of the most interesting hung from +a branch of the big double oak of the gnatcatchers, +above the ranch-house, where I could +see it when sitting in the crotch of the tree. +While watching it I looked beyond over the chaparral<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +wall away to a dark purple peak standing +against a sky flecked with sun-whitened clouds. +The nest was like an oriole's, but nearly twice as +long, though the builders were less than half the +size of the orioles. Instead of being open at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +top, it was roofed over, and the only entrance was +a small round hole, the girth of the bird, about +two inches under the roof.</p> + +<p>One might imagine that such big houses would +be dark with only one small dormer window, and +the valley children assured me that the birds +hung living firefly lamps on their walls! I suggested +that a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty +to Fireflies would be needed if that were the +case; but when it comes to that, what bird would +choose to brood by gaslight?</p> + +<p>When I first saw the bush-tit in its round doorway, +it suggested Jack Horner's famous plum, +comical little ball of feathers! When first watching +the nest the small pair put me on their list +of enemies, along with small boys, blue jays, and +owls. To go down into the pocket under my +stare seemed a terrible thing. When one of them +came with a bit of moss for lining, it started for +the front door, saw me, stopped, and turned to +go to the back of the nest. Then it tried to get +up courage to approach the house from the side, +got in a panic and dashed against the wall as if +expecting a door would open for it. When at +last it did make bold to dart into the nest it was +struck with terror, and, whisking around, jabbed +the moss into the outside wall and fled!</p> + +<p>Seeing that nothing awful happened, the birds +finally took me off the black list and allowed me +to oversee their work, as long as I gave no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +directions. Sometimes both little tots went down +into the bag to work together; surely there was +plenty of room for many such as they. But it +is not always a matter of cubic inches, and one +morning when the second bird was about to pop +in, apparently it was advised to wait a minute. +There was no ill feeling, though, for when the +small builder came out it flew to the twig in +front of the door, where its mate was waiting, +and sat down beside it, a little Darby by his +Joan.</p> + +<p>They worked busily. Sometimes they popped +in only to pop out again; at other times they +stayed inside as long as if they had been human +housekeepers, hanging pictures, straightening +chairs, and setting their bric-a-brac in order for +the fortieth time; each change requiring mature +deliberation.</p> + +<p>One morning—after the birds had been putting +in lining long enough to have wadded half a +dozen nests—if my judgment is of any value in +such matters—I discovered that the roof was +falling in; it was almost on top of the front door! +The next day, to my dismay, the door had vanished. +What was the trouble? Were the pretty +pair young builders; was this their first nest, and +had they paid more attention to decorating their +house inside than to laying strong foundations; +or had their pocket been too heavy for its frame?</p> + +<p>However it came about, the wise birds concluded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +that they would not waste time crying +over spilt milk. They calmly went to work to +tear the first nest to pieces and build a second +one out of it. One of them tweaked out its board +with such a jerk it sent the pocket swinging like +a pendulum. But the next time it wisely planted +its claw firmly to steady itself, while it cautiously +pulled the material out with its bill.</p> + +<p>If the birds were inexperienced, they were +bright enough to profit by experience. This time +they hung their nest between the forks of a strong +twig which had a cross twig to support the roof, +so that the accident that had befallen them could +not possibly occur again. They began work at +the top, holding onto the twig with their claws +and swinging themselves down inside to put in +their material; and they moulded and shaped the +pocket as they went along.</p> + +<p>After watching the progress of the new nest, I +went to see what had become of the old one. It +was on the ground. On taking it home and pulling +it to pieces, I found that the wall was from +half an inch to an inch thick, made of fine gray +moss and oak blossoms. There was a thick wadding +of feathers inside. I counted <i>three hundred</i>, +and there were a great many more! The amount +of hard labor this stood for amazed me. No +wonder the nest pulled down, with a whole feather-bed +inside! Why had they put it in? I asked +some children, and one said, "To keep the eggs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +warm, I guess;" while the other suggested, "So +the eggs wouldn't break." Most of the feathers +were small, but there must have been several +dozen chicken's feathers from two to three inches +long. Among them was a plume of an owl.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 354px;"> +<img src="images/i127.jpg" width="354" height="550" alt="POCKET NEST IN AN OAK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">POCKET NEST IN AN OAK</span> +</div> + +<p>Much to my surprise, in the bush-tit's nest +there was a broken eggshell. Had the egg broken +in falling, or had a snake been there? One of +the boys of the valley told me about seeing a +racer snake go into a bush-tit's pocket. The cries +of the birds rallied several other pairs, and they +all flew about in distress, though not one of them +dared touch the dreadful tail that hung out of +the nest hole. As the snake was about three feet +long, the pocket bulged as it moved around inside. +There were four nestlings about a quarter grown, +and the relentless creature devoured them all. +The boy waited below with a stick, and when it +came out, killed it and shook it by the tail till +the small birds popped out of its mouth. If my +broken eggshell pointed to any such tragedy, it +cleared the birds of the accusation of being poor +builders.</p> + +<p>The nest, which the first day was a filmy spot +in the leaves, by the next day had become a +gray pocket over eight inches long, although I +could still see daylight through it. In working, +the birds flew to the top of the open bag and +hopped down inside. I could see the pocket +shake and bulge as they worked within. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +they flew away to any distance, on their return +they almost always came with their little call of +<i>schrit, schrit</i>.</p> + +<p>This nest was so low that I used to throw myself +on the sand beneath the tree to watch it, taking +many a sunbath there, with hat drawn down +till I could just see the nest in the pendent +branches, and watch the changing mosaics made +by the sky through the moving leaves. When +resting on the sand the thought of rattlesnakes +came to me, for the brush on either side was a +shelter for them, and they might easily have +crept up beside me without my hearing them.</p> + +<p>The second bush-tit's nest was shorter than the +first one. Perhaps the builders thought the +length had something to do with the fall of the +first; or perhaps they didn't feel like collecting +three hundred more feathers, with oak blossoms +and moss to match. They first put the frame of +the front door below the supporting cross twig, +and then, as if they thought it needed more support, +changed it and put the door above the twig, +so that the roof could not possibly close the hole, +even if it did fall in. The doorway was also +made much larger than that of the first nest.</p> + +<p>After making away with the old nest, my conscience +smote me. Perhaps the little pocket +makers were not through with it, even if it was +on the ground; so I brought a piece of it back +and tied it with a grass stem to a twig below the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +nest they were at work on, to save them as much +trouble as might be. When my bird came, her +bright eyes were quick to espy the old nest. She +looked around, bewildered, as if wondering +whether she was really awake, and making sure +that this strange looking affair were not her second +nest, come to grief in her absence. Being +reassured by her examination, she came back +and hopped from twig to twig inspecting the old +piece of nest. At last she caught sight of a +feather. That, apparently, was just what she +wanted. She quickly flew over, pulled out the +white plume, and went straight to the new house +with it!</p> + +<p>I was not able to watch any of my bush-tits +through the season, that year, but five years later, +when again in southern California, to my delight +I found the tits building in almost the same tree +where they had been before.</p> + +<p>One day an interesting brood was out in the +brush, and I took notes on their proceedings: +"A family of young were abroad this morning +filling the leaves with their little moving forms, +and the air with their fledgling cry of <i>schrit</i>. +As nearly as I could judge, there were ten in the +family—eight young tagging after two old birds. +While I watched, a droll thing happened, proving +that a family of eight may affect a parent's breakfast +as well as his nerves. One of the family, +which I took to be the father bird, had some goody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +in his bill, and one of the young, presumably, followed +him for it, flying up on his twig. The old +bird turned his back upon the little one and went +on shaking the grub. Presently a second one flew +down on the other side of him,—he was between +two fires; they touched him on both sides. I +watched with interest to see what he would do +about it, and was much amused when he opened +his wings and flew up over their heads out of +reach! Would he come back to feed them after +his food was properly prepared? No,—he sat +up on the branch and ate the morsel himself! I +was rather shocked by such a deliberate proceeding, +but then it occurred to me that parent +birds have to take a bite themselves once in a +while; though of course their business is to feed +the children!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> +<h2>IX.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE BIG SYCAMORE.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> going home from my morning sessions +with the little lover and other feathered friends, +I often took a gallop at the foot of the hills to +visit a gigantic old tree, the king of the valley. +One such ride is especially marked in my memory. +It was on one of California's most perfect +mornings. When the sun had risen over the valley, +the fog dissolved before it, sinking away until +only small white clouds were left in the tender +blue of the notches between the red hills; while +the bared vault overhead had that pure, deep, +satisfying color peculiar to fog-cleared skies; and +the cool fresh air was full of exhilaration. It put +Mountain Billy so in tune with the morning that, +when I chirrupped to him, shaking the reins on +his neck, he quickly broke into a lope and his +ringing hoofs beat time to my song as we sped +down the valley, past vineyards and orchards and +yellow fields of ripening grain. The free swift +motion was a delight in itself, and after days and +weeks given to the details of nest-making, shut +away from the world in our little remote valley +at the foot of the mountains, now, when we came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +to a break in the hills and our nostrils were +greeted by the cool salt breeze coming from the +Pacific, suddenly the whole horizon broadened; +the inclosing valley walls were overlooked; we +were galloping under the high arching heavens +in a wind blowing from far over the wide ocean.</p> + +<p>Here stood the great sycamore, with branches +swaying; for the tree faced this break in the hills. +It seemed as if the old monarch, with roots firmly +planted, had battled for its ground; and now, +as a conqueror, stood with arms uplifted to meet +the ocean gales. I had never before appreciated +the dignity of those straight upreared shafts, the +vital strength of those deep grappling roots, the +mighty grandeur of this old battle king.</p> + +<p>When one of the trunks fell, I had to hunt the +sycamore over to find where it came from, not +missing it in the massive framework that was +left. The giant measured twenty-three feet and +a half in circumference, three feet from the +ground. Its enormous branches stretched out +horizontally so far that, between the body of the +tree and the tips that hung to the earth, there +was a wide corridor where one could promenade +on horseback. In fact, the tree spanned, from +the tip of one branch to the tip of the other, one +hundred and fifty-eight feet. In the photograph, +the figure of a person is almost lost in the complicated +network of the frame of the tree. The +treetop was a grove in itself. A flock of blackbirds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +flying up into it was lost among the +branches.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i135.jpg" width="500" height="345" alt="THE BIG SYCAMORE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BIG SYCAMORE</span> +</div> + +<p>The ranchman knew the sycamore as the 'swallow +tree,' because in former years, before the valley +was settled, swallows that have since taken +to barns built there. Between three and four +hundred of them plastered their nests on the +underside of the big limbs, about half way up +the tree, where the bark was rough. They built +so close together that the nests made a solid mass +of mud. For several seasons, it was said, "they +had bad luck." They began building before the +rainy season was over, and all but a few dozen +nests which were in especially protected places +were swept away. The number of nests was so +enormous that the ground was covered several +inches deep with mud.</p> + +<p>Billy used to improve his time by nibbling +barley while I watched birds in the sycamore +corridor. We had not been there long before I +discovered a bee's nest in the hollow of one of the +trunks. The owners were busily flying in and +out, and a pair of big bee-birds flew down from +their nest in the treetop and saved themselves +trouble by lunching at this convenient ground +floor restaurant. As I sat on Billy, facing the +nest, one of the pair swept down over the +mouth of the hole, caught a bee and settled back +on the branch to swallow it. This seemed to be +the regular performance, and was kept up so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +continuously, even when we were standing close +by, that if, as is supposed, the birds eat only +drones, few but workers would be left in that +hive.</p> + +<p>The flycatchers seemed well suited to the sycamore; +they were birds of large ideas and sweeping +flights. Their nest was at the top of the +tree; probably eighty feet from the ground, but +when one of them flew down, instead of coming +a branch at a time, he would set his wings and, +giving a loud cry,—as a child shouts when pushing +off his sled at the top of a steep hill,—he +would sail obliquely down from the treetop to +the foot of the hillside beyond. When looking +for his material he would hover over the field +like a phœbe. Then, on returning, unlike the +other birds who lived in the tree and used the +branches as ladders, he would start from the +ground and with labored flights climb obliquely +up the air to the treetop. Once his material +dangled a foot behind him. The birds seemed to +enjoy these great flights.</p> + +<p>Their nest was not finished, and while one +went for material, the other—presumably the +male—guarded the nest. As there was nothing +to guard as yet, it often seemed a matter of +venting his own spleen! When not occupied in +arranging his plumes, he would shoot down at +every small bird that came upstairs; a cowardly +proceeding, but perhaps he thought it necessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +to keep his hand in against meeting bigger boys +than he! When coming with material, one of +the bee-birds got caught in a heavy rope of cobweb +that dangled from the nest, and had to flutter +hard to extricate itself. About their nests +these birds seemed as home-loving as any others. +Their domesticity quite surprised me; they had +always seemed such harsh, scolding, aggressive +birds! When one of them sat among the green +leaves, pluming the soft sulphur yellow feathers +of its breast, it looked so gentle and attractive +that it was a shock when the familiar petulant +screams again jarred the air. The birds often +hunted from the fence beyond the sycamore, +and flew from post to post with legs dangling, +shaking their wings as they lit, with a shrill +<i>kit' r' r' r' r'</i>.</p> + +<p>The sycamore was a regular apartment house; +so many birds were moving among the boughs +it was impossible to tell where they all lived. +One day I found a pair of doves sitting on a +sunny branch above me. The one I took to be +the male sat perched crosswise, while his mate sat +facing him, lengthwise of the limb. He calmly +fluffed out his feathers and preened himself, +while his meek spouse watched him. She fluttered +her wings, teasing him to feed her, but he +kept on dressing out his plumes. Then she edged +a little closer, and almost essayed to touch his +majesty with her pretty blue bill, but he sat with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +lordly composure quite ignoring her existence till +a blackbird bustled up, when they both started +nervously, and turning, sat demurely side by side +on the limb, the wind tilting their long tails.</p> + +<p>A pair of bright orange orioles had a nest in +the sycamore, though I never should have known +it had I not seen them go to it to feed their +young. It was a well shaded cradle surely, with +its canopy of big green leaves.</p> + +<p>There were a good many hints to be had, first +and last. A song sparrow appeared and stood +on a branch with its tail perked up in a business-like +way as if it had been feeding a brood. A +wren came to the tree,—a mere pinch of feathers +in the giant sycamore,—and though I lost sight +of it, many a hollow up in the fourteenth story +might have afforded a home for the pretty dear +without any one's being the wiser, unless it were +the bee-bird in the attic. A family of bush-tits +flew about in the sycamore top, looking like pin-heads +in a grove of trees. A black phœbe sometimes +lit on the fence posts under the branches—it +wanted to find a nesting place about the +windmill in the opposite field, I felt sure, though +a boy had told me that the bird sometimes plastered +its nest onto the branches of the big tree +itself. Besides all the rest, rosy linnets and blue +lazuli buntings made the old tree ring with their +musical roundelays.</p> + +<p>One day when I rode down to the sycamore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +the meadow bordering it was full of haycocks, +and a rabbit ran out from under one of them, +frightened by the clatter of Billy's hoofs. That +morning the tree was fairly alive with blackbirds +and doves—what a deafening medley the blackbirds +made! In the fields near the sycamore +flocks of redwings went swinging over the tall +gleaming mustard. This was a great place for +blackbirds, for the big tree was on the edge of +the one piece of marsh land in the valley, and +they were quick to take advantage of its reeds +for nesting places.</p> + +<p>The cienaga—as they called the swamp—was +used as a pasture. It was pleasant to look out +upon, from under the branches of the great tree. +A group of horses stood in the shade of a cluster +of oaks on the farther side of it, while the cows, +a beautiful herd of buff and white Guernseys, +waded through the swamp grass to drink near +the sycamore, and the blackbirds wound in and +out among them. I had been in a dry land so +long it was hard to believe there was actual +water in the marsh till I saw it drip from their +chins and heard the sucking sound as they +laboriously dragged their feet out of the mud—a +noise that took me back to eastern pastures, +but sounded strangely unfamiliar here in this +rainless land. One of the pretty Guernseys with +a white star in her forehead strayed up under +the tree, and the shadows of the leaves moved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +over her as she raised her sensitive face to see +who was there.</p> + +<p>The son of the ranchman who owned the dairy—the +one who invited me down to see the play +between his dog Romulus and the burrowing +owl—said that when herding cows by the sycamore +he once caught sight of a coyote wolf. He +clapped his hands to send his dog, Romulus, +after the wolf; and the noise frightened the +wild creature so that he started to run up the +hill across the road from the sycamore. Romulus +followed hard at his heels till they got well up +the hillside, when the coyote felt that he was +on his own ground and turned on the dog, who +fled back to his master with his tail between his +legs. The lad, clapping his hands, set the dog +on the coyote again, and this animated but bloodless +performance was repeated and kept up till +both were tired out, the animals chasing each +other back and forth from the sycamore to the +hillside with as much energy and perhaps as +much courage as was displayed by that historic +king of France who had five thousand men and—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"... marched them up a hill and then<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He marched them down again."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>On one side of the sycamore was a great wall +of weeds higher than my head when on horseback; +a dense mass of yellow mustard, and +fragrant wild celery which was covered with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +delicate white bloom. I saw blackbirds carrying +material into this thicket, but as I had +known of neighbors' horses getting bitten by +rattlesnakes among the high weeds, did not +think it worth while to wade around in it much +for such common birds as they. But one day, +seeing a pair of rare blue grosbeaks fly down +into the tangle, I turned Billy right in after +them, though holding his head well up in consideration +of the snakes. The birds vanished, +so we stood still to wait. Suddenly I heard a +slight sound as of something slipping through +the weeds at Billy's feet, and looking down saw +a snake marked like a rattler; and as it slid by +Billy's hoof I noticed with horror that the end +of its tail was blunt—the harmless gopher snake +that resembles the rattler has a tapering tail! +I gazed at it spellbound, but in the dim light +could not make out whether it had rattles or not. +I had seen enough, however, and whipping up +Billy was out of those weeds in a hurry. Safely +outside, I looked at my little horse remorsefully—what +if my desire to see a new nest had been +the cause of his getting a rattlesnake bite!</p> + +<p>The next day when I went down to the sycamore +a German was mowing there with a pair +of mules. He was a typical Rhinelander, with +blue eyes and long curling hair and beard, +and as he drove he sang in a deep rich voice +one of the beautiful melodies of his fatherland.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +Screened by the branches, I listened quite unmindful +of my work till my reverie was interrupted +by the man's giving a harsh cry to his +mules. It was only an aside, however, for he +dropped back into his song in the same rich +sympathetic voice.</p> + +<p>In riding out from the tree on my way home, +I saw that he was mowing just where the snake +had been, and warned him to be careful lest the +horses get bitten. At the word rattlesnake his +blue eyes dilated, and he assured me that he +would be on his guard. Seeing my glasses and +note-book, he asked if I were studying birds. +When told that I was, from his seat on the +mowing-machine he took off his hat and bowed +with the air of a lord, saying in broken English, +"I am pleased to meet you!"—a pleasant tribute +to the profession. A few days later, on +meeting him, he asked if I had found the rattlesnake—he +had killed it under the sycamore and +hung it on a branch for me to see.</p> + +<p>As the memory of my morning rides down to +the sycamore brings to mind the wonderful freshness +of California's fog-cleared skies, so my sunset +rides home from the great tree recall the +peacefulness of the quiet valley at twilight. One +sunset stands out with peculiar distinctness. As +Mountain Billy turned from the sycamore marsh +its leaning blades gleamed in the evening light, +and the sun warmed the sides of the line of buff<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +Guernseys wading in procession through the high +swamp grass to their out-door milking stand. +Beyond, a load of hay was crossing the meadows +with sun on the reins and the pitchforks the men +carried over their shoulders; and beyond, at the +head of the valley, the western canyons were +filled with golden haze, while the last shafts of +yellow light loitered over the apricot orchards +below, where the tranquil birds were singing their +evening songs. Slowly the long shadows of the +mountain crept over orchard and vineyard until, +finally, the sun rounded the last peak and left +our little valley in darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>X.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>AMONG MY TENANTS.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first year I was in California the thought +of the orchards that were to be set out on my +ranch appealed to me much less than what the +place already possessed. As an inheritance from +the stream that came down in spring through the +Ughland canyon—past the homes of the little +lover, the gnatcatchers, the little prisoners, and +the lazulis and blue jays—there was a straggling +line of old sycamores, full of birds' nests; and a +patch of weeds, wild mustard, and willows, which +was a capital shelter for wandering warblers; and +a bright sunny spot always ringing with songs.</p> + +<p>So many houses were being put up without so +much as a by-your-leave that it was high time for +an ornithological landlady to bestir herself and +look to her ornithological squatters; so, day after +day I turned my horse toward the ranch and +spent the morning getting acquainted with my +tenants, riding along the shady line and making +friendly calls at each tree.</p> + +<p>Half of the blackbirds who worked in the vineyard +must have been beholden to me for rent, +I should judge by the jolly choruses of the sable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +hordes moving about my treetops. There was a +bee's nest in one of the sycamores, and one day +the buzzing mob 'took after me' so madly that +I had to whip up Canello and beat about with +my hat to get clear of them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i147.jpg" width="550" height="335" alt="ALONG THE LINE OF SYCAMORES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ALONG THE LINE OF SYCAMORES</span> +</div> + +<p>Another day, when we stopped under a sycamore, +such a loud shrill whistle sounded suddenly +overhead that the horse started. A big bird in +black sat with feathers bristled up about him like +a threatening raven, croaking away sepulchrally +directly overhead, bending down gazing at us out +of his yellow eyes as if to see how we took it. +It was a laughable sight. Blackbirds seem such +human, humorous birds one can almost fancy +them playing such pranks just for the fun of it.</p> + +<p>The blackbird colony was a busy one nesting-time. +The builders would fly down to the road to +get material, stepping along quickly, looking from +side to side with an alert, business-like air, as if +they knew just what they wanted. Some of them +used the button-balls to line their nests.</p> + +<p>A pair had built in one of the round mats of +mistletoe at the end of a branch, and while looking +at the nest one day I was amazed to see a +butcherbird come flying in a straight line toward +it. He did not reach his destination, for while +still in air both blackbirds darted down at him +and drove him back faster than he had come. +The guardian of the nest escorted him almost +home, and when the victorious pair were returning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +they were joined by a noisy band of indignant +members of the blackbird clan.</p> + +<p>I watched this attack with great interest, not +knowing that shrikes were concerned in blackbird +matters, and also because it was welcome +news that one of these strange characters had +rented a lot of me. I made a note of the direction +my outlaw tenant took when driven ignominiously +home, and at my earliest convenience called. +Such cruel tales are told of his cold-blooded way +of impaling birds and beasts upon thorns and +barbed wires that one naturally looks upon him +as a monster; but I found that he, like many +another villain, turns a gentle face to his nest.</p> + +<p>He had pitched his tent on the farthest outpost +of my ranch in a little bunch of willows, weeds, +and mustard—long since converted into a well-kept +prune orchard. The nest, which was a big +round mass of sticks, was inside the willows in +a clump of dry stalks about six feet from the +ground. I had hardly found it before one of the +builders swooped down to it right before my eyes, +with the hardihood of one who fears no man; +though it must be acknowledged that the shrikes, +like other birds on the ranch, were so used to +grazing horses they quite naturally took me for a +cattle herder.</p> + +<p>In this case Canello did not act as my ally. He +had been quiet and docile most of the morning, +but now was hungry and saw some grass he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +bent on having, so took the bit in his teeth and +made such an obstinate fight that, before I had +conquered him, the shrikes had left the premises +and my call was finished without my hosts.</p> + +<p>On my next visit Canello behaved in more +seemly manner, and permitted me to see something +of the ways of the maligned birds. You +would not have known them from any one else +except for the remarkable stillness of their neighborhood. +Some finches flew overhead as if meaning +to stop, but saw the shrike and went on. I +could hear the merry songs of the assembly down +in the sycamores, but not a bird lit while we +were there—the shrikes certainly have a bad +name among their neighbors. They had a proud +bearing and an imperative manner, but seemed so +gentle and human in their domestic life that my +prejudices were softened, as one's generally are by +near acquaintance, and I became really very fond +of my handsome tenants.</p> + +<p>It looked as if the shrike fed his mate. At +any rate, they worked together and rested together, +perching in lordly fashion high on the +willows overlooking their home. They did not +object to observers when at work. One day, when +Canello's nose appeared by the nest, the builder +looked at him over her shoulder and then quietly +slid off the nest, flying up on her perch to wait +till he should leave. It was a temptation to keep +her waiting some time, for the shrike's corner was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +a pleasant place to linger in. The sea-breeze +was so strong it turned the willow leaves white +side out, and the beautiful glistening mustard +grew so high there that when Canello walked into +it, the golden blossoms waved over our heads. +We haunted the premises till the birds had finished +their framework, put in a lining of snow-white +plant cotton, and had laid four eggs.</p> + +<p>But when getting to feel like an old friend of +the family, on riding down one day I found the +nest lying in the dust of the road broken and +despoiled. It made me as unhappy as if the +outlaws had been unimpeachable bird citizens—which +comes of knowing both sides of a person's +character! Do birds hand down traditions of ill +luck? However it may be, five years later I +found the nest of a pair in a dark mat of mistletoe +at the end of a high oak branch, which was a +much safer place than the low willow.</p> + +<p>While I was watching the first shrike family, +Canello had two scares. Once when we were +standing still by the willow we heard what sounded +like a rattlesnake springing its rattle. The nervous +horse pricked up his ears, raised his head, +and looked in the grass as if he saw snakes, and +though I succeeded in quieting him, when we +went home he started at every stick and was ready +to shy at every shadow. Another morning he +saw a Mexican riding along by the vineyard, +a man with a very dark face and a red shirt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +Canello acted much as he had when hearing the +rattlesnake, and did not quiet down till horse and +rider were out of sight. The ranchman told me +he had been cruelly treated by the Mexican who +broke him, so perhaps it was another case of association +of ideas.</p> + +<p>East of the willows, and separated from them +by the dark green mallows and bright yellow +California forget-me-nots, was the sycamore where +the shrike was driven off by the blackbirds. +Here a little brown wren had taken up her abode. +The nest was in a dead limb with a lengthwise +slit, and a scoop at the end like an apple-corer, +so when one of the wrens flew down its hole with +a stick, the twig stuck out of the crack as she +ran along with it. She quite won my heart by +her frank way of meeting her landlady. Instead +of flying off, she looked me over and then quietly +sat down in her doorway to wait for her mate.</p> + +<p>On the road to my sycamores was a deserted +whitewashed adobe. The place had become overgrown +with weeds, vines, and bushes, and was +taken possession of by squirrels and birds. +Nature had reclaimed it, covering its ugly scars +with garlands, and making it bloom under her +tender touch. One morning, as I rode by, a +black phœbe was perched on the old adobe chimney +of the little house, while his mate sat on the +board that covered the well, in a way that made it +easy to jump to a conclusion. When she flew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +up to the acacia beside the well and looked down +anxiously, I put the pair on my calling list. It +did not take many visits to +prove my conclusion—there +was a nest down in the well +with white eggs in it. The +phœbes were most trustful +birds, and not only let Canello +tramp around their yard, +but when a pump was put down +the well, and water pumped up +day by day, the brave parents, +instead of deserting their eggs, went on brooding +as if nothing had happened.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Phœbes"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 138px;"> +<img src="images/i153a.jpg" width="138" height="169" alt="Black Phœbe. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Black Phœbe.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> +</td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 171px;"> +<img src="images/i153b.jpg" width="171" height="172" alt="Eastern Phœbe. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Eastern Phœbe.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<p>Five years later, on going back to the ranch, I +found the phœbes around the old place, but +hunted in vain for the nest. A schoolhouse had +been built in the interval, near the old adobe, +and the birds perched on +its gables, on the hitching +posts in front of it, and on +my prune-trees, that had +taken the place of the willows, +across the road. They +even came up to my small +ranch-house and filled me +with delightful anticipations +by inspecting the +beams of the piazza; but they could not find +what they wanted and flew off to build elsewhere.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +Later in the season, a neighbor whose ranch was +opposite mine showed me a phœbe's nest inside +his whitewashed chicken house. It was a mud +pocket like a swallow's, made of large pellets of +mud plastered against a board in the peak of +the house. Of course I could never prove that +these birds were my old friends, but it seemed +very probable.</p> + +<p>The smallest of my tenants was a hummingbird. +I saw it fly into a low spray, and it stayed +there so long that when it left I rode up to look, +and found that it was building on the tip of a +twig under a sycamore leaf umbrella, one whose +veining showed against the light. By rising in +the saddle I could just reach the twig and pull +it down to look inside the nest; but afterwards +I found so many other hummers who could be +watched with fewer gymnastics, I rested content +with knowing that this little friend was there.</p> + +<p>One morning, when on the way to the sycamores, +I found an oriole's nest high in a tree. +Canello was hungry, but when permitted to eat +barley under the branches kept reasonably quiet. +There were two species of orioles in the valley; +and not knowing to which the nest belonged, +I prepared to wait for the return of the owner. +The heat was so oppressive that I took off my +hat, and a bird flew into the tree with bill open, +gasping. After my hot ride down the valley the +shade of the big tree was very grateful; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +the cool trade wind coming through a gap in the +hills most refreshing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a flash—we all waked up—was +that the house owner? What a remarkable +bird! and what a display of color!—it had +a red head, fiery in the sun; a black back, and a +vivid yellow breast. On looking it up in Ridgway +the stranger proved to be the Louisiana +tanager, a high mountain bird. That was a red +letter day for me. No one can know, without +experiencing it, the delight of such discoveries. +The pleasure is as genuine as if the world were +made anew for you. In the excitement the oriole's +nest was neglected; but ordinarily the rare +unknown birds did not detract from the enjoyment +of the old, more familiar ones.</p> + +<p>So when the brilliant stranger flew away and +was seen no more I turned with pleasure to the +pair of sparrow hawks who had come to live on +the ranch. A branch had fallen from one of +the trees, and the hawks found its hollow just +suited to their needs. It was a good, spacious +house, but a pair of their cousins who had built +in a tree over the whitewashed hovel had made +a sad mistake in choosing their dwelling—for +the front door was so small they could hardly +enter! I used to stop to watch them, and was +very much amused at their efforts to make the +best of it.</p> + +<p>Canello could stand up to his knees in alfilaree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +clover under their tree, so he allowed me to watch +the birds in peace. The first day the male sparrow +hawk flew to the tree with what looked like a +snake dangling from his bill, and as he alighted +screamed <i>kit-kit'ar' r' r' r'</i>, spreading his wings +and shaking them with emphasis. When this +brought no response, he flew from branch to +branch, crying out lustily. He revolved around +the end of a broken limb in whose small hollow +was framed the head of Madame Falco. From +her height she looked like a rag doll at her window. +Her funny round face, which filled the +doorway, had black spots for bill and eyes, and +dark lines down the cheeks that might have +simulated rag doll tattooing.</p> + +<p>Evidently there was some reason why she did +not want to come to breakfast. Once she +started to turn back into the nest, but at last +laboriously wedged her way out of the hole and +flew to a branch. Her mate was at her side in +an instant, and handed her the snake. She took +it greedily and flew off with it, let us hope +because she was afraid of me, not because she +did not want to divide with him, or thought he +would ask her to, after all his devotion and +patience!</p> + +<p>When the bird went back to her nest, her +hesitation about leaving it was explained. For +a long time she sat on a limb near by with tail +bobbing, apparently trying to make up her mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +to go in. When she did fly up at the hole she +could not get in, and half fell down. After this +failure she sat down on a branch, her tail tilting +as violently as a pipit's, and when Canello moved +around too much, took the excuse and flew off. +Her mate came back with her, but when he saw +us, he screamed and flew away, leaving her to +her fate.</p> + +<p>She sat looking at her hole a long time before +she tried it again, and when she did try, failed. +It was not till her fourth attempt that she succeeded. +The hole was very much too small for +her, and the surface of the branch below it was +so smooth and slippery that it gave her nothing +to hold to in trying to wedge herself in. She +would fly against the hole and attempt to hook +her bill over the edge, and so draw herself up, +but her shoulders were too big for the space. +She tried to make them smaller by drawing down +her wings lengthwise. Once, in her efforts, she +spread her tail like a fan. After her third +struggle, she sat for a long time smoothing her +ruffled feathers, shaking herself, scratching her +face with her foot and trying to get her plumes +in order.</p> + +<p>While making her toilet she apparently +thought of a new plan. She went back to the +hole and, raising her claw, fastened it inside the +hole and with a spasmodic effort wedged in her +body and disappeared down the black hollow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +Her mate came a moment after, but she did not +even appear in the doorway when he called. +Again he came, crying <i>keek' keek' kick-er' r' r'</i>, +in tender falsetto; but it was no use. Madame +Falco had had altogether too hard a time getting +in, to go out again in a hurry. He held a worm +in his bill till he was tired, changed it to his +claw, letting it dangle from that for a while; +and then, as she would make no sign, finally +flew off.</p> + +<p>The next day we had another session with the +sparrow hawk. She had evidently profited by +experience. She did not fly at the hole in the +violent way she had done the day before, but +ambled along a limb to get as close to it as possible, +and then quietly flew up. She made two +or three unsuccessful attempts to enter, but kept +at the branch,—falling back but once. She got +half way in once or twice, but could not force her +wings through. She acted as if determined not +to give up, and at last, when she found herself +falling backwards, with a desperate effort drew +herself in.</p> + +<p>There was another sparrow hawk family across +the road from my ranch. In riding by one day, +I saw a youngster looking out from the nest hole +with big frightened eyes. Was it the only child, +or was it monopolizing the fresh air while its +brothers were smothering below? Another day +there were two heads in the window; one was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the round domed, top of a fluffy nestling whose +eyes expressed only vague fear; but the other +was the strongly marked head of an old sparrow +hawk, who eyed us with keen intelligence. As I +stared up, the young one drew back into the hole +behind its parent, probably in obedience to her +command; and the old bird bent such an anxious +inquiring gaze upon me that I took the hint and +rode away to save the poor mother worry.</p> + +<p>These were not the only hawks of the valley. +Once, seeing one of the large Buteos winging its +way with nesting sticks hanging from its claws, +I turned Canello into the field after it, following +till it lit in the top of a high sycamore. +The pair were both gathering material. Sometimes +they flew with the twigs in their claws; +sometimes in their bills; now they would fly +directly to the nest, again circle around the tree +before alighting. When one was at work, the +other sometimes flew up and soared so high in +the sky he looked no larger than a sparrow +hawk. In swooping to the ground suddenly, +the hawks would hollow in their backs, stick up +their tails, drop their legs for ballast, and so let +themselves come to earth. While one of the birds +was peacefully gathering sticks, two blackbirds +attacked it, apparently on general grounds, because +it belonged to a family that had been +traduced since history began. To tell the honest +truth, I trembled a little myself at thought of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +what might happen to some of my small tenants, +though I reassured myself by remembering that +the facts prove the maligned hawks much more +likely to eat gophers than birds.</p> + +<p>In the back of the stub occupied by one of +the sparrow hawks it was a pleasure to find a +flicker excavating its nest. Planting its claws +firmly in the hole with tail braced against the +bark, the bird leaned forward, thrusting its head +in, over and again, as if feeding young. It used +its feet as a pivot, and swung itself in, farther +and farther, as it worked. Such gymnastics +took strong feet, for the bird raised itself by +them each time. It worked like an automatic +toy wound up for the performance. When tired, +the flicker hopped up on a branch and vented +its feelings by shouting <i>if-if-if-if-if-if-if</i>, after +which it quietly returned to work. The wood +was so soft that the excavating made almost no +noise, but it was easy to see what was going on, +for the carpenter simply drew back its head and +tossed out the glistening chips for all the world +to see. At the end of a week the flicker was +working so far down in its excavation that only +the tip of its tail stuck out of the door.</p> + +<p>The nest of another Colaptes, I found by +accident—a fresh chip dropped from mid-air +upon my riding skirt. Just then Canello gave +a stentorian sneeze and the bird came to her +window to look down. She did not object to us,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +and was loath to turn back inside the dark hole—such +a close stuffy place—when outside there +were the rich green leaves of the tree, the sweet +breath of the hayfield and the gentle breeze just +springing up; all the warmth and sunshine and +fragrance of the fields. How could she ever +leave to go below? Perhaps she bethought her +that soon the dark hole would be a home ringing +with the voices of her little ones; at all +events, she quickly turned and disappeared in her +nest.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the ranch I discovered a comical, +sleepy little brown owl, dozing in a sycamore +window. When we waked it up, it went backing +down the hole. I wondered if it kept awake +all day without food, for surely owl children do +not get many meals by daylight. I spoke to the +ranchman's son about it, and he said he thought +the old birds fed the young too much, that he +had found about a dozen small kangaroo rats +and mice in their holes! He told me that he +had known old owls to change places in the daytime, +and both birds to stay in the hole during +the day. Down the valley, where an old well +was only partly covered over, at different times +he had found a number of drowned owls. They +seemed to fly into any dark hole that offered. +Three barn owls had been taken from a windmill +tank in the neighborhood in about a month. +In a mine at Escondido the man had found a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +number of owls sitting in a crevice where the +earth, had caved; and he had seen about a dozen +of them fifty to a hundred feet underground, at +the bottom of the mine shaft.</p> + +<p>I did not wonder the birds wanted to keep out +of sight in the daytime, knowing what happened +to those that stayed out. A pair nested in the top +of a high sycamore on my neighbors' premises, and +when one stirred away from home, it did so to +its sorrow. One morning there was such a commotion +I rode down to see what was the matter. +A big dark brown form flew down the avenue of +sycamores ahead of us, followed by a mob of all +the feathered house owners in the neighborhood. +They escorted it home to the top of its own tree, +where it seated itself on a limb, its big yellow eyes +staring and its long ears dropped down, as if home +were not home with a rout of angry bee-birds and +blackbirds screeching and diving at you over your +own doorsill. Two orioles started to fly over from +the next tree, but went back, perhaps thinking it +wiser not to make open war upon such near neighbors; +while a sparrow hawk who came to help +in the attack was judged too dangerous an ally +and escorted home by a squad of blackbirds +dispatched for the purpose. The poor persecuted +owl screwed its head around to its back as if +hoping to see pleasanter sights on that side; but +the uncanny performance did not seem to please +its enemies, and a blackbird flew rudely past, close<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +under its bill, as if to warn it of what might +happen.</p> + +<p>The queerest of all my tenants was an old +mother barn owl who lived in the black charred +chimney of one of the sycamores. I found a +white feather on the black wood one day in riding +by, and pulling Canello up by the tree, broke off +a twig and rapped on the door. She came blundering +out and flew to a limb over our heads—such +a queer old crone, with her hooked nose +and her weazened face surrounded by a circlet of +dark feathers. The light blinded her, and with +her big round eyes wide open she leaned down +staring to make out who we were. Then shaking +her head reproachfully, she swayed solemnly +from side to side. As the wind blew against her +ragged feathers she drew her wings over her +breast like a cloak, making herself look like a +poverty-stricken wiseacre. Finding that we did +not offer to go, the poor old crone took to her +wings; but as she passed down the line of sycamores +she roused the blackbird clan, and a pair +of angry orioles flew out and attacked her. My +conscience smote me for driving her out among +her enemies, but on our return to the sycamores +all was quiet again, and a lizard was sunning +himself on the edge of the old owl's chimney.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> +<h2>XI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>AN UNNAMED BIRD.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Six</span> years ago, on my first visit to California, +I found a dainty cup of a nest out in the oaks, +but the name of its owner was a puzzle. On +returning East I consulted those who are wisest +in matters of such fine china, but they were +unable to clear up the matter. For five years +that mystery haunted me. At the end of that +time, when back in California, up in those same +oaks, I found another cup of the same pattern; +but the cup got broken and that was the end of it.</p> + +<p>The fact of the matter is, you can identify perhaps +ninety per cent. of the birds you see, with +an opera-glass and—patience; but when it comes +to the other ten per cent., including small vireos +and flycatchers, and some others that might be +mentioned, you are involved in perplexities that +torment your mind and make you meditate murder; +for it is impossible to</p> + +<p> +Name <i>all</i> the birds without a gun.<br /> +</p> + +<p>On bringing my riddle to the wise men, they +shook their heads and asked why I did not shoot +my bird and find out who he was. On saying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +the word his skin would be sent to me; but after +knowing the little family in their home it would +have been like raising my hand against familiar +friends. Could I take their lives to gratify my +curiosity about a name? I pondered long and +weighed the matter well, trying to harden my +heart; but the image of the winning trustful +birds always rose before me and made it impossible. +I will put the case before you, and you +can judge if you would not have withheld your +hand.</p> + +<p>One day, hearing the sound of battle up in the +treetops, I hurried over to the scene of action, +when out dashed a pair of courageous little dull-colored +birds in hot pursuit of a blue jay, whom +they dove at till they drove him from the field. +My sympathies were enlisted at once. Fearless +little tots to brave a bird four times as big as +themselves in defense of their home! How hard +to have to build and rear a brood in the face of +such a powerful foe! I wanted to take up the +cudgels for them and stand guard to see that no +harm came.</p> + +<p>Planting my camp-stool under their oak, I +watched eagerly to have my new friends show me +their home. As I waited, a pair of turtle doves +walked about on the sand under the farther +branches of the tree; a pair of woodpeckers sat +on a dead limb lying in wait for their prey; and +a couple of titmice came hunting through the oak—all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +the world seemed full of happy home-makers.</p> + +<p>But soon I saw a sight that made me forget +everything else. There were my brave little birds +up in the oak working upon a beautiful moss cup +that hung from a forked twig. They were building +together, flying rapidly back and forth bringing +bits of moss from the brush to put in their +nest.</p> + +<p>They worked independently, each hunting moss +and placing it to its own satisfaction. What one +did the other would be well pleased with, I felt +sure. But while each worked according to its +own ideas, they always appeared to be working +together; they could not bear to be out of sight +of each other long at a time. When the small +father bird found himself at the nest alone, after +placing his material he would stand and call to +let his pretty mate know that he was waiting for +her; or else sit down by the nest and warble over +such a contented, happy little lay it warmed my +heart just to listen to him.</p> + +<p>When his mate appeared the merry birds would +chase off for a race through the treetops. Song +and play were mingled with their work, but, for +all that, the happy builders' house grew under +their hands, and they kept faithfully at their task +of preparing the home for their little brood. Once +the small, dainty mother bird,—surely it must +have been she,—after putting in her bit of moss,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +settled down in the nest and sat there the picture +of quiet happiness.</p> + +<p>This was all I saw of the nest builders that +year. A great storm swept through the valley, +and it must have washed away the frail mossy +cup, for it was gone and the tree was deserted. +Nevertheless, the birds had been so attractive, +and their nest so interesting, that through the five +years that passed before my return to California +I kept their memory green, and could never think +of them without tenderness—though I could call +them by no name. If they had only worn red +feathers in their caps, it would have been some clue +to their coats-of-arms; but, out of hand, there +seemed to be nothing to mark the plain, little, +greenish gray birds from half a dozen of their +cousins.</p> + +<p>When I finally returned to the California ranch, +one of my first thoughts was for the moss nest +makers up in the oaks. Now I had a chance to +solve the mystery without harming one of their +pretty feathers, for by long and patient watching I +might get near enough to puzzle out the 'spurious +primary' and the subtle distinctions of tint that +make such a difference in calling birds by their +right names.</p> + +<p>For six weeks I watched and listened in vain, +but one day when riding up the canyon rejoicing +at the new life that filled the trees, I stopped +under an oak only a few rods from the one where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +the nest had been five years before, and looking +up saw a small dull-colored bird with a bit of +moss in its bill walking down into a mossy cup +right before my eyes! For a few moments I was +the happiest observer in the land. I had found +my little friend again, after all these years! It +looked over the edge of the twig at me several +times, but went on gathering material as unconcernedly +as if it, too, remembered me. The mossy +cup seemed prettier than any rare bit of Sèvres +china, for I looked upon it with eyes that had +been waiting for the sight for five years.</p> + +<p>As the bird worked, a cottontail rabbit rustled +the leaves, and Billy started forward, frightening +the timid animal so that it scampered off over +the ground, showing the white underside of its +tail. But though Billy and the rabbit were both +terrified, the brave worker only flew down to a +twig to look at them, and turned back calmly to +its task.</p> + +<p>The nest was so protectively colored that I +could not see it readily, and sometimes started to +find that I had been looking right at it without +knowing it. The prospect of identifying my birds +was not encouraging. You might as well expect +to see from the first floor what was going on up +in a cupola as to expect to see from the ground +what birds are doing up in the thick oak tops. +You have reason to be thankful for even a glimpse +of a bird in the heavy foliage, and as for 'spurious +primaries,'—"Woe worth the chase!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now and then I got a hint of family matters. +My two little friends were working together, and +occasionally I saw a bit of moss put in; but it +was evident that the main part of the work was +over. One day I waited half an hour, and when +the bird came it acted as if it had really done all +that was necessary, and only returned for the sake +of being about its pretty home.</p> + +<p>The birds said a good deal up in the oak, sometimes +in sweet lisping tones, as though talking to +themselves about the nest. They often flew away +from it not far over my head. The call note was +a loud whistle—<i>whee-it'</i>—and the bird gave it +so rapidly that I once took out my watch to time +him, after which he called seventy times in sixty +seconds. Often after whistling loudly he would +give a soft low call. His clear ringing voice was +one of the most cheering in the valley.</p> + +<p>When the building seemed done and I was looking +forward to the brooding, as the birds would +then, perforce, be more about the nest, one sad +morning I rode up through the oaks and found +the beautiful moss cup torn and dangling from +its branch. It was the keenest disappointment +of the nesting season, and there had been many. +The pretty acquaintance to whose renewal I had +looked forward so many years was now ended.</p> + +<p>Again I had to leave California without being +able to name my winning little friends. If I +had been too much interested in them before to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +set a price on their heads; now, rather than +raise my voice against them, they should remain +forever unnamed.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>HUMMERS.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">California</span> is the land of flowers and hummingbirds. +Hummingbirds are there the winged +companions of the flowers. In the valleys the +airy birds hover about the filmy golden mustard +and the sweet-scented primroses; on the blooming +hillsides in spring the air is filled with whirring +wings and piping voices, as the fairy troops pass +and repass at their mad gambols. At one moment +the birds are circling methodically around +the whorls of the blue sage; at the next, hurtling +through the air after a distant companion. The +great wild gooseberry bushes with red fuchsia-like +flowers are like bee-hives, swarming with +noisy hummers. The whizzing and whirring +lead one to the bushes from a distance, and on +approaching one is met by the brown spindle-like +birds, darting out from the blooming shrubs, +gleams of green, gold, and scarlet glancing from +their gorgets.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 324px;"> +<img src="images/i172.jpg" width="324" height="426" alt="The Little Hummer on her Bow-Knot Nest. (From a photograph.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Little Hummer on her Bow-Knot Nest.<br /> +(From a photograph.)</span> +</div> + +<p>The large brown hummers probably stop in the +valley only on their way north, but the little +black-chinned ones make their home there, and +the big spreading sycamores and the great live-oaks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +are their nesting grounds. In the big oak +beside the ranch-house I have seen two or three +nests at once; and a ring of live-oaks in front +of the house held a complement of nests. From +the hammock under the oak beside the house one +could watch the birds at their work. If the front +door was left open, the hummers would sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +fly inside; and as we stepped out they often +darted away from the flowers growing under the +windows.</p> + +<p>California is the place of all places to study +hummingbirds. The only drawback is that there +are always too many other birds to watch at the +same time; but one sees enough to want to see +more. I never saw a hummingbird courtship +unless—perhaps one performance I saw was part +of the wooing. I was sitting on Mountain Billy +under the little lover's sycamore when a buzzing +and a whirring sounded overhead. On a twig sat +a wee green lady and before her was her lover (?), +who, with the sound and regularity of a spindle +in a machine, swung shuttling from side to side +in an arc less than a yard long. He never turned +around, or took his eyes off his lady's, but threw +himself back at the end of his line by a quick +spread of his tail. She sat with her eyes fixed +upon him, and as he moved from side to side her +long bill followed him in a very droll way. When +through with his dance he looked at her intently, +as if to see what effect his performance had had +upon her. She made some remark, apparently +not to his liking, for when he had answered he +flew away. She called after him, but as he did +not return she stretched herself and flew up on +a twig above with an amusing air of relief.</p> + +<p>This is all I have ever seen of the courtship; +but when it comes to nest-building, I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +often been an eye-witness to that. One little +acquaintance made a nest of yellow down and +put it among the green oak leaves, making me +think that the laws of protective coloration had +no weight with her, but before the eggs were +laid she had neatly covered the yellow with +flakes of green lichen. I found her one day +sitting in the sun with the top of her head as +white as though she had been diving into the +flour barrel. Here was one of the wonderful +cases of 'mutual help' in nature. The flowers +supply insects and honey to the hummingbirds, +and they, in turn, as they fly from blossom to +blossom probing the tubes with the long slender +bills that have gradually come to fit the shape +of the tubes, brush off the pollen of one blossom +to carry it on to the next, so enabling the plants +to perfect their flowers as they could not without +help. It is said that, in proportion to their +numbers, hummingbirds assist as much as insects +in the work of cross-fertilization.</p> + +<p>Though this little hummer that I was watching +let me come within a few feet of her, when +a lizard ran under her bush she craned her neck +and looked over her shoulder at him with surprising +interest. She doubtless recognized him as +one of her egg-eating enemies, on whose account +she put her nest at the tip of a twig too slender +to serve as a ladder.</p> + +<p>Another hummingbird who built across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +way was still more trustful—with people. I +used to sit leaning against the trunk of her oak +and watch the nest, which was near the tip of +one of the long swinging branches that drooped +over the trail. When the tiny worker was at +home, a yard-stick would almost measure the +distance between us. As she sat on the nest +she sometimes turned her head to look down at +the dog lying beside me, and often hovered over +us on going away.</p> + +<p>The nest was saddled on a twig and glued to a +glossy dark green oak leaf. Like the other nest, +it was made of a spongy yellow substance, probably +down from the underside of sycamore leaves; +and like it, also, the outside was coated with lichen +and wound with cobweb. The bird was a rapid +worker, buzzing in with her material and then +buzzing off after more. Once I saw the cobweb +hanging from her needle-like bill, and thought +she probably had been tearing down the beautiful +suspension bridges the spiders hang from tree +to tree.</p> + +<p>It was very interesting to see her work. She +would light on the rim of the nest, or else drop +directly into the bottom of the tiny cup, and place +her material with the end of her long bill. It +looked like trying to sew at arm's length. She +had to draw back her head in order not to reach +beyond the nest. How much more convenient it +would have been if her bill had been jointed! It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +seemed better suited to probing flower tubes than +making nests. But then, she made nests only in +spring, while she fed from flowers all the year +round, and so could afford to stretch her neck a +trifle one month for the sake of having a good +long fly spear during the other eleven. The peculiar +feature of her work was her quivering +motion in moulding. When her material was +placed she moulded her nest like a potter, twirling +around against the sides, sometimes pressing +so hard she ruffled up the feathers of her breast. +She shaped her cup as if it were a piece of clay. +To round the outside, she would sit on the rim and +lean over, smoothing the sides with her bill, often +with the same peculiar tremulous motion. When +working on the outside, at times she almost lost +her balance, and fluttered to keep from falling. +To turn around in the nest, she lifted herself by +whirring her wings.</p> + +<p>When she found a bit of her green lichen about +to fall, she took the loose end in her bill and drew +it over the edge of the nest, fastening it securely +inside. She looked very wise and motherly as +she sat there at work, preparing a home for +her brood. After building rapidly she would +take a short rest on a twig in the sun, while +she plumed her feathers. She made nest-making +seem very pleasant work.</p> + +<p>One day, wanting to experiment, I put a handful +of oak blossoms on the nest. They covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +the cup and hung down over the sides. When +the small builder came, she hovered over it a few +seconds before making up her mind how it got +there and what she had better do about it. Then +she calmly lit on top of it! Part of it went off +as she did so, but the rest she appropriated, +fastening in the loose ends with the cobweb she +had brought.</p> + +<p>She often gave a little squeaky call when on +the nest, as if talking to herself about her work. +When going off for material she would dart +away and then, as if it suddenly occurred to her +that she did not know where she was going, would +stop and stand perfectly still in the air, her vibrating +wings sustaining her till she made up her +mind, when she would shoot off at an angle. It +seemed as if she would be worn out before night, +but her eyes were bright and she looked vigorous +enough to build half a dozen houses.</p> + +<p>"There's odds in folks," our great-grandmothers +used to say; and there certainly is in +bird folks; even in the ways of the same one at +different times. Now this hummingbird was content +to build right in front of my eyes, and the +hummer down at the little lover's tree, with her +first nest, was so indifferent to Billy and me that +I took no pains to keep at a distance or disguise +the fact that I was watching her. But when her +nest was destroyed she suddenly grew old in the +ways of the world, and apparently repented having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +trusted us. In any case, I got a lesson on being +too prying. The first nest had not been down +long before I found that a second one was being +built only a few feet away—by the same bird? +I imagined so. The nest was only just begun, +and being especially interested to see how such +buildings were started, I rode close up to watch +the work. A roll of yellow sycamore down was +wound around a twig, and the bottom of the nest—the +floor—attached to the underside of this +beam; with such a solid foundation, the walls +could easily be supported.</p> + +<p>The small builder came when Billy and I were +there. She did not welcome us as old friends, +but sat down on her floor and looked at us—and +I never saw her there again. Worse than that, +she took away her nest, presumably to put it down +where she thought inquisitive reporters would not +intrude. I was disappointed and grieved, having +already planned—-on the strength of the +first experience—to have the mother hummer's +picture taken when she was feeding her young on +the nest.</p> + +<p>At first I thought this suspicion reflected upon +the good sense of hummingbirds, but after thinking +it over concluded that it spoke better for +hummingbirds than for Billy and me. If this +were, as I supposed, the same bird who had to +brood her young with Billy grazing at the end +of her bill, and if she had been present at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +unlucky moment when he got the oak branches +tangled in the pommel of the saddle, although +her branch was not among them, I can but admire +her for moving when she found that the Philistines +were again upon her, for her new house was +hung at the tip of a branch that Billy might easily +have swept in passing.</p> + +<p>These nests had all been very low, only four or +five feet above the ground; but one day I found +young in one of the common treetop nests. I +could see it through the branches. Two little +heads stuck up above the edge like two small +Jacks-in-boxes. Billy made such a noise under +the oak when the bird was feeding the youngsters +that I took him away where he could not disturb +the family, and tied him to an oak covered with +poison ivy, for he was especially fond of eating +it, and the poison did not affect him.</p> + +<p>Before the old hummer flew off, she picked up +a tiny white feather that she found in the nest, +and wound it around a twig. On her return, in +the midst of her feeding, she darted down and set +the feather flying; but, as it got away from her, +she caught it again. The performance was +repeated the next time she came with food; but +she did it all so solemnly I could not tell whether +she were playing or trying to get rid of something +that annoyed her.</p> + +<p>She fed at the long intervals that are so trying +to an observer, for if you are going to sit for hours<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +with your eyes glued to a nest, it really is pleasant +to have something happen once in a while! +Though the mother bird did not go to the nest +often, she sometimes flew by, and once the sound +of her wings roused the young, and they called +out to her as she passed. When they were awake, +it was amusing to see the little midgets stick out +their long, thread-like tongues, preen their pin-feathers, +and stretch their wings over the nest.</p> + +<p>One fine morning when I went to the oak I +heard a faint squeak, and saw something fluttering +up in the tree. When the mother came, she +buzzed about as though not liking the look of +things, for her children were out of the nest, +and behold!—a horse and rider were under her +tree. She tried to coax the unruly nestlings to +follow her into the upper stories, but they would +not go.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 162px;"> +<img src="images/i181.png" width="162" height="272" alt="The Swing Nest of the Hummer. (From a Photograph.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Swing Nest of the Hummer.<br /> + +(From a Photograph.)</span> +</div> + +<p>Although not ready to be led, one of the infants +soon felt that it would be nice to go alone. When +a bird first leaves the nest it goes about very +gingerly, but this little fellow now began to feel +his strength and the excitement of his freedom. +He wiped his tongue on a branch, and then, to +my astonishment, his wings began to whirl as if +he were getting up steam, and presently they +lifted him from his twig, and he went whirring off +as softly as a hummingbird moth, among the oak +sprays. His nerves were evidently on edge, for +he looked around at the sound of falling leaves,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +started when Billy sneezed, and turned from side +to side very apprehensively, in spite of his out-in-the-world, +big-boy airs. He may have felt +hampered by his unused wings, for, as he sat +there waiting for his mother to come, he stroked +them out with his bill to get them in better working +order. That done, he leaned over, rounded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +his shoulders, and pecked at a leaf as if he were +as much grown up as anybody.</p> + +<p>Of all the beautiful hummingbirds' nests I saw +in California, three are particularly noteworthy +because of their positions. One cup was set down +on what looked like an inverted saucer, in the +form of a dark green oak leaf wound with cobweb. +That was in the oak beside the ranch-house. Another +one was on a branch of eucalyptus, set +between two leaves like the knot in a bow of stiff +ribbon. To my great satisfaction, the photographer +was able to induce the bird to have a +sitting while she brooded her eggs. The third +nest I imagined belonged to the bird who took up +her floor because Billy and I looked at her. If +she were, her fate was certainly hard, for her eggs +were taken by some one, boy or beast. Her nest +was most skillfully supported. It was fastened +like the seat of a swing between two twigs no +larger than knitting-needles, at the end of a long +drooping branch. It was a unique pleasure to +see the tiny bird sit in her swing and be blown +by the wind. Sometimes she went circling about +as though riding in a merry-go-round; and at +others the wind blew so hard her round boat rose +and fell like a little ship at sea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> +<h2>XIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>IN THE SHADE OF THE OAKS.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were half a dozen places in the valley, +irrigated by the spring rains, where I was always +sure of finding birds. Among them, on the west +side, was the big sycamore, standing at the lower +end of the valley; while above, in the northwest +corner, was the mouth of Twin Oaks canyon +where the migrants flocked in the brush +around the large twin oak that overlooked the +little old schoolhouse. On the east side was the +Ughland canyon, at the mouth of which the little +lover and his neighbors nested; while below it +straggled the line of sycamores that followed +the Ughland stream down through my ranch. +But up at the head of the valley beyond the +ranch-house was the most delightful place of all. +There I was always sure of finding interesting +nests to study.</p> + +<p>Surrounded by a waste of chaparral, it was a +little oasis of great blooming live-oaks, and in +their shade I used often to spend the hot afternoon +hours. In the spring the water that flowed +down the hills at the head of the valley formed +a fresh mountain stream that ran down the Oden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +canyon and so on through the centre of this +grove, feeding the oaks and spreading out to +enrich the valley below. In summer, like the +rest of the canyon streams, only its dry sandy +bed remained. Then, when the meadows were +oppressively hot, my leafy garden was a shady +bower to linger in. Its long drooping branches +hung to the ground, dainty yellow warblers flitted +about the golden tassels of the blossoming +trees, and the air was full of the happy songs +of mated birds.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i185.jpg" width="550" height="404" alt="A SHADY BOWER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A SHADY BOWER</span> +</div> + +<p>The trail from the ranch-house to the oaks +was a line through the low grass in which grew +yellow fly flowers and orange poppies; and over +them every spring, day after day, processions +of migrating butterflies drifted slowly up the +canyon. At the entrance of the garden was a +sentinel oak whose dark green foliage contrasted +well with the yellow flowers in the grass outside. +It was the chosen hunting-ground of many birds. +Its dead upper branches offered the bee-birds +and woodpeckers an unobstructed view of passing +insects, and gave the jays and flickers a +chance to overlook the brush, and take their +bearings. The lower limbs offered perches +where doves might come to rest, finches to chatter, +and chewinks to sing; while its hanging +boughs and elm-like feathered sides attracted +wandering warblers and songful wrens.</p> + +<p>The happy days spent among these beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +California oaks are now far in the past, but as +I sit in my study in the East and dream back +over those hours my mind is filled with memory +pictures. Sauntering through this oaken gallery, +each tree recalls some pleasant hour—the sight +of a new bird, the sound of a new song, the prolonged +delight of some cozy home that I watched +till accepted as a friend, when the little family's +fears and joys were my own.</p> + +<p>That big double oak, spreading across the +middle of the garden, was the haunted tree +whose blue ghost drove away the pewees and +gnatcatchers after they had begun to build; +though the vireos and bush-tits braved it out, +and the tiny hummer and gentle dove were not +afraid to perch there. This was hummingbird +lane—that small oak held the nest in which +the two wee nestlings sat up like Jacks-in-the-box; +these blue sage bushes growing in the sand +were the ones the honey bees and hummers used +to haunt, the hummers probing each lavender +lip as they circled round the whorls; in front of +this bush I saw a fairy dancer perform his airy +minuet,—swing back and forth, and then sweep +up in the air to dive whirring down with gorget +puffed out and tail spread wide; and here, when +watching a procession of ants, I discovered a +tiny hummingbird building in a drooping branch +that overhung the trail. That dead limb was +the perch of a wood pewee, a silent grave bird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +with a sad call, who flew on when he was still +only a lonely stranger. That oak top was made +memorable by the sight of a flaming oriole, +though he came on a cold foggy morning and +answered my calls with a broken song and a +half-hearted scold as he sat with his feathers +ruffled up about him. Under the low spreading +branches of that tree the chewinks used to +scratch—I can hear the brown leaves rustle +now—the branches were so low that, if the shy +birds flew up to rest from their labors, they could +quickly drop down and disappear in the brush.</p> + +<p>On ahead, where the garden narrows to the +trail between the walls of brush, when I was +hidden behind a screen of branches, the timid +white-crowned sparrows used to venture out, +hopping along quietly or stopping to sing and +pick up seeds on the path. Back a few steps +was the tree where the bush-tits came to build +their second nest after the roof of the first one +fell in; the nest which hung on such a low +limb that I watched it from the sand beneath, +looking up through the branches at the blue +sky, the canyon walls covered with sun-whitened +bowlders, and the turkey buzzards circling over +the mountains.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 162px;"> +<img src="images/chewink.png" width="162" height="135" alt="Green-tailed Chewink. (One half natural size.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Green-tailed Chewink.<br /> +(One half natural size.)</span> +</div> + +<p>Just there, in that small open place between +the trees,—how well I remember the afternoon,—I +saw a new bird come out of the bushes; +the green-tailed chewink he proved to be, on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +way back to the Rocky Mountains. He was a +beautiful stranger with a soft glossy coat touched +off with yellowish green, while his high-bred +gentle manners have made me remember him +with affectionate interest all +these years. Across the garden +I heard my first song +from that unique rhapsodist, +the yellow-breasted chat. +The same place marks another +interesting experience. +While I was sitting in the +crotch of an oak a thrasher came out of the +brush into an open space in front of me. Her +feathers were disordered and apparently she +had come from her nest. She walked with +wings tight at her sides and her tail up at an +angle well out of the way of the rustling +leaves; altogether a neat alert figure that +contrasted sharply with the lazy brown chippie +which appeared just then in characteristic +negligée, its wings hanging and tail dragging +on the ground. The thrashers of Twin +Oaks have bills that are curved like a sickle, +and this bird used her tool most skillfully. Instead +of scratching up the leaves and earth with +her feet as chewinks and sparrows do, the +thrasher used her bill almost exclusively. First +she cleared a space by scraping the leaves away, +moving her bill through them rapidly from side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +to side. Then she made two holes in the ground, +probing deep with her long bill. After taking +what she could get from the second hole, she +went back to the first again, as if to see if anything +had come to the surface there. Then she +lay down on the sand to sun herself and acted +as though going to take a sun bath, when suddenly +she discovered me and fled.</p> + +<p>When watching the bird at work I got a +pretty picture in the round disk of my opera-glass. +The glass was focused on the digging +thrasher, but a goldfinch came into the picture +and pulled at some stems for its nest and a cottontail +ran rapidly across from rim to rim. I +lifted the glass to follow him and saw him go +trotting down the path between the bushes.</p> + +<p>The thrasher's curved bill gives a most ludicrous +look to the bird when singing. He looks +as if he were trying to turn himself inside out. +I once saw an adult thrasher tease its mate for +food, and wondered how it would be possible +for one curved bill to feed another curved bill; +but a few days later I came on a family of young, +and discovered for myself that <i>they</i> have straight +bills; a most curious and interesting instance of +adaptation.</p> + +<p>At the head of the garden stands a tree that +always reminds me of the horses I rode in California. +I watched my first bush-tit's nest under +it, with Canello grazing near; and five years later<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +watched another bush-tit's nest there, sitting in +the crotch of the oak with Mountain Billy looking +over my shoulder. Although Billy was, in his +prime, a bucking mustang, he became more of a +petted companion than Canello had been; and +when we were out alone together, we were a great +deal of company for each other. As soon as I +dismounted he would put his head down to have +me slip the reins off over his ears, so that he +could graze by himself. Sometimes, when he +stood behind me he rested his bridle on my sun-hat, +and once went so far as to take a bite out +of the brim—in consideration of its being straw. +If I were sitting on the ground and he was grazing +near, he would at times walk up and gravely raise +his face to look into mine. When he got tired, +he would rub up against my arm and yawn, looking +down at me with a friendly smile in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Birding was rather dull for Billy—when there +was neither grass nor poison ivy at hand, but he +had one never-failing source of enjoyment—rolling. +He tried it in the sand under the oak, +one day, with the saddle on. Before I knew what +he was about he was down on his knees, sitting +still, with a comical, helpless look in his eyes, as +if quite at a loss to know what to do next, having +become conscious of the saddle. When I had +gotten him on his feet and finished lecturing him +I uncinched the saddle, laid it one side on the +ground, took hold of the end of the long bridle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +and told him to roll. A droll abstracted look +came into his eyes, he dropped on his knees and, +with a sudden convulsion, threw his heels into the +air and rolled back and forth, rubbing his backbone +vigorously on the sand. After that, the first +thing every morning when we got to the oaks, I +unsaddled him and let him roll, and then he would +stand with bare back keeping cool in the shade of +the trees.</p> + +<p>One morning as we stood under the bush-tit's +tree, I discovered a pair of turtle doves looking +out at me from the leaves of the small oak opposite, +craning their necks and moving their heads +uneasily. One of them seemed to be shaping a +nest of twigs. I drew Billy around between us, +so that my staring would seem less pointed, and +when one of the pair flew to the ground to spy at +me, hurriedly looked the other way to remove his +anxiety. His mate soon joined him, and the two +doves walked away together, fixed their feathers +in the sun, stretched their wings, and lazily picked +at the ground. When one whirred back to the +nest, the other soon followed. The gentle lovers +put their bills together, while, unnoticed, I stood +behind Billy, looking on and thinking that it was +little wonder such birds should rise from the +ground with a musical whirr.</p> + +<p>Billy's oak was the last of the high trees in the +garden. Above it was a grassy space where +bright wild flowers bloomed, and pretty cottontail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +rabbits often went ambling over the soft turf. +On one side of the opening was a low stocky oak, +full of balls of mistletoe, and on the other a great +blossoming bush buzzing with hummingbirds. +The mistletoe had begun to sap the little oak, and +on one of its dead twigs a hummingbird had taken +to perching. I wondered if he were the idle mate +of one of my small garden builders, but he sat +and sunned himself as if his conscience were quite +clear.</p> + +<p>My first experience with gnatcatchers had been +here. I suspected a nest, and the ranchman's +daughter went with me to hunt through the brush. +She cautioned me to look out for rattlesnakes, +but the brush was so dense and the ground so +covered with crooked snake-like sticks that it +was not an easy matter to tell what you were +stepping on. Then, the poison oak was so thick +that I felt like holding up my hands to avoid it. +We pushed our way through the dense chaparral, +and my fearless companion got down on her hands +and knees to look through the tangle for the nest. +It was hard disagreeable work, even if one did +not object to snakes, and we were soon so tired +that we were ready to sit down and let the birds +show us to their house. We might have saved +ourselves all the trouble if we had done this to +begin with, for it was only a few moments before +the little pair went to the mistletoe oak, out in +plain sight and within easy reach—how they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +would have laughed in their sleeves had they +known what we were hunting for back in the +brush! The nest was about the size of a chilicothe +pod, and so covered with lichen that it looked just +like a knot on the tree.</p> + +<p>Around the blossoming bush the air fairly vibrated +with hummers, darting up into the sky, +shooting down and chasing each other pell mell—sometimes +almost into my face. As I sat by +the bush one day, a handsome male went around +with upraised throat, poking his bill up the red +fuchsia-like tubes. Another one was flying around +inside the bush, and I edged nearer to see. The +sun shone in, whitening the twigs, and as the bird +whirred about with a soft burring sound, I caught +gleams of red, gold, and green from his gorget, +and could see the tiny bird rest his wee feet on a +twig to reach up to a blossom. Then he hummed +what sounded more like a love song than anything +I had ever heard from a hummingbird. He +seemed so much more like a real bird than any of +his brothers that I felt attracted to him.</p> + +<p>One morning a little German girl, in a red +pinafore, and with hair flying, came riding down +the sand stream toward my bush. Her colt reared +and pranced, but she sat as firmly as if she had +been a small centaur. It was a holiday, and she +was staking out her horses to graze, making gala-day +work of it. She had one horse down by the +little oak already, and springing off the one she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +had brought, changed about, jumped as lightly as +a bird upon the other's back and raced home. +Soon she came galloping back again, and so she +went and came until tired out, for pure fun on +her free holiday.</p> + +<p>In looking over the bright memory pictures of +my beautiful oak garden, there is one to which I +always return. The spreading trunks of a great +five-stemmed tree on one side of the grove made +a dark oaken couch, screened by the leafy willow-like +branches that hung to the ground. Here—after +looking to see that there were no rattlesnakes +coiled in the dead leaves—I spent many a dreamy +hour, reclining idly as I listened to the free songs +of the birds that could not see me behind my +curtain. It was interesting to note the way certain +sounds predominated; certain songs would +absorb one's attention, and then pass and be replaced +by others. At one time a jay's scream +would jar on the ear and drown all other voices; +when that had passed, the chewinks would fly up +from the leaves and sing and answer each other +till the air was quivering with their trills. Then +came the thrashers, with their loud rollicking +songs; and when they had pitched down into the +brush, out rang the clear bell-like tones of the +wren-tit, filling the air with sound. Afterwards +the impatient whipped-out notes of the chaparral +vireo were followed by the soft cooing of doves; +and then, as the wind stirred the trees and sent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +the loosened oak blossoms drifting to the ground, +from high out of an oak top came a most exquisite +song. At the first note of this grosbeak all other +songs were forgotten—they were noise and +chatter—this was pure music. It was like passing +from the cries of the street into the hall of a +symphony concert. The black-headed grosbeak +has not the spirituality of the hermit thrush, and +his ordinary song is not so remarkable, but his +love song excels that of any bird I have ever heard +in finish, rich melody, and music. As I listened, +my surroundings harmonized so perfectly with the +wonderful song echoing through the great trees +that the old oak garden seemed an enchanted +bower. The drooping branches were a leafy lattice +through which the afternoon sun filtered, +steeping the oaks in thick still sunshine. Last +year's leaves drifted slowly to the ground, while +the bees droned about the yellow tassels of the +blooming trees. As a violinist, lingering to perfect +a note, draws his bow again and again over +the strings, so this rapt musician dwelt tenderly +on his highest notes, trolling them over till each +was more exquisite and tender than the last, and +the ear was charmed with his love song—a song +of ideal love fit to be dreamed of in this stately +green oak garden filled with golden sunlight.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> +<h2>XIV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> a peg just inside the door of the ranchman's +old wine shed hung one of the horses' unused +nosebags. A lad on the place told me that +a wren had a nest in it, and added that he had +seen a fight between the wren and a pair of +linnets who seemed to be trying to steal her +material.</p> + +<p>The first time I went to the wine shed both +wrens and linnets were there, but nothing happened +and I forgot about the original quarrel. +By peering through a crack in the boarding I +could look down on the wren in the nosebag inside. +I could see her dark eyes, the white line +over them, and her black barred tail. She was +Vigor's wren. She got so tame that she would +not stir when the creaking door was opened close +by her, or when people were talking in the shed; +and I used to go often to see how her affairs were +progressing.</p> + +<p>All her eggs hatched in time, and the small +birds, from being at first all eyeball, soon got to +be all bill. When I opened the bag to look at +them, the light woke them up and they opened +their mouths, showing chasms of yellow throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>The mother bird fed them several times when +I was watching only a few feet away. She would +come ambling along in the pretty wren fashion, +with her tail over her back; creeping down the +side of a lath, running behind a rafter, scolding +as though to make conversation, and then winding +down to the nest through a crack. One day +she hesitated, and waited to spy at me, since I +had thought it polite to stare at her! When satisfied, +she hopped along from beam to beam, her +bright eyes still upon me. Then her mate joined +her. He had been suspicious of me at our first +meeting, but apparently had changed his mind, +for, seeing his spouse hesitate, he glanced at me +unconcernedly, as much as to say, "Is she all +you're waiting for?" and flew out, leaving her to +my tender mercies. She hopped meekly into the +bag after that rebuke, but stretched up to peer at +me once more before settling down inside.</p> + +<p>One day when I looked in to see how wren +matters were progressing, to my amazement and +horror, instead of my wren's nest I found another, +high in the mouth of the bag with one fresh egg +in it! The egg was a linnet's, and the nest had +been built right on top of the wren's. Such a +stench came from the bag that I took out the +upper nest and found the four little wrens dead +in their crib.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 382px;"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a> +<img src="images/i199.png" width="382" height="600" alt="The Nosebag Nest. (Vigors's Wren.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Nosebag Nest.<br /> + +(Vigors's Wren.)</span> +</div> + +<p>I had become very fond of the winsome mother +bird, and so much interested in her brood that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +this horrid discovery came like a tragedy in the +family of a friend.</p> + +<p>And what did it all mean? Unless the old +wrens had been dead, could the linnets have +gotten possession? The wrens were usually able +to hold their own in a discussion. If the nestlings +had been alive, would the linnets—would any +bird—have built upon them, deliberately burying +them alive? It seemed too diabolical. On +the other hand, what could have killed the little +wrens and left them in the nest? If they had +been dead when the linnets came to build, how +could the birds have chosen such a sepulchre for +a building site?</p> + +<p>Grieving over my little friends, I cleaned out +the nosebag and hung it up on its peg. Three +weeks later I discovered, to my great perplexity, +that a pair of wrens had built in the bottom of +the bag and had one egg in the nest. Now, was +this the same pair of birds that had built there +before, and if so, what did it all mean?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> +<h2>XV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>HOW I HELPED BUILD A NEST.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">They</span> picked out their crack in the oak and +began to build without any advice from me, winning +little gray-crested titmice that they were. +Their oak was right behind the ranch-house barn; +I found it by hearing the bird sing there. The +little fellow, warmed by his song, flitted up the +tree a branch higher after each repetition of his +loud cheery <i>tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit'</i>. +Meanwhile his pretty mate, with bits of stick in +her bill, walked down a crack in the oak trunk.</p> + +<p>Thinking she had gone, I went to examine the +place. I poked about with a twig but couldn't +find the nest till, down in the bottom of the crack, +I spied a little gray head and a pair of bright +eyes looking up at me. The bird started forward +as if to dart out, but changed her mind and stayed +in while I took a hasty look and fled, more frightened +than she by the intrusion.</p> + +<p>The titmice had been flying back and forth +from the hen-yard with chicken's feathers, and it +seemed such slow work for them I thought I +would help them. So the next day, when the +pair were away, I stuffed a few white feathers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +into the mouth of the nest and withdrew under +the shadow of the barn to watch through my +glass without being observed. Then my conscience +began to trouble me. What if this interference +should drive the gentle bird to desert her +nest?</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/i202.png" width="407" height="408" alt="The Plain Titmouse in her Doorway." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Plain Titmouse in her Doorway.</span> +</div> + +<p>When I heard the familiar chickadee call—the +titmouse often chirrups like his cousin—it +made me quake guiltily. What would the birds +do? The gray pair came flying in with crests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +raised, and my small friend hopped down to her +doorway. She gave a start of surprise at sight of +the feathers, but after a moment's hesitation went +bravely in! While she was inside, her mate +waited in the tree, singing for her; and when she +came out, he flew away with her. Then I crept +up to the oak, and to my delight found that all +the feathers had disappeared. She evidently +believed in taking what the gods provide. In +fact, she seemed only to wish that they would provide +more, for, after taking a second supply from +me, she stood in the vestibule, cocked her crested +head, and looked about as if expecting to see new +treasures.</p> + +<p>She had common-sense enough to take what +she found at hand, but if she had not been such +a plucky little builder she would have been scared +away by the strange sights that afterwards met +her at her nest. Once when she came, feathers +were sticking in the bark all around the crack. +She hesitated—the rush of her flight probably +fanned the air so the white plumes waved in her +face—she hesitated and looked around timidly +before getting courage to go in; and on leaving +the nest flew away in nervous haste; but she was +soon back again, and ready to take the feathers +down inside the oak. She caught hold of the tip +of one that was wedged into a crack, and tugged +and tugged till I was afraid she would get discouraged +and go off without it. She got it, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +and drew it in backwards. Then she attacked +another feather, but finding that it came harder +than the first, let go her hold and took an easier +one. She was not to be daunted, though, and +after stowing away the loose one came back for +the tight one again, and persevered till she bent +it in several places, besides breaking off the tip.</p> + +<p>When she had flown off, I jumped up, ran to +the oak, and stuffed the doorway full of feathers. +Before I had finished, the family sentinel caught +me—I had been in too much of a hurry and he +had heard me walking over the cornstalks. He +eyed me suspiciously and gave vent to his disapproval, +but I addressed him in such friendly terms +that he soon flew off and talked to his mate reassuringly, +as if he had decided that it was all right +after all. After their conversation she came back +and made the best of her way right down through +the feather-bed! I went away delighted with +her perseverance, and charmed by her confidence +and pretty performances.</p> + +<p>The next day I heard the titmouse singing in +an elder by the kitchen, and went out to see how +the birds acted when gathering their own material. +The songster was idly hunting through the +branches, singing, while his mate—busy little +housewife—was hard at work getting her building +stuff. She had something in her beak when I +caught sight of her, but in an instant was down on +the ground after another bit. Then she flew up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +in the tree looking among the leaves; in passing +she swung a moment on a strap hanging from a +branch; then flew down among the weeds, back +up in the tree again; and so back and forth, over +and over, her bill getting fuller and fuller.</p> + +<p>I was glad to save her work, and interested to +see how far she would accept my help. Once +when I blocked the entrance with feathers and +horsehair she stopped, and, though her bill was +full, picked up the packet and flew out on a +branch with it. Was she going to throw away my +present? For a moment my faith in her was +shaken. Perhaps her mate had been warning her +to beware of me. She did drop the mat of horsehair—what +did such a dainty Quaker lady as +she want of horsehair?—but she kept tight hold +of one of the feathers, although it was almost as +big as she was; and flew back quickly to the nest +with it.</p> + +<p>This performance proved one point. She would +not take everything that was brought to her. She +preferred to hunt for her own materials rather +than use what she did not like. Now the question +was, what did she like?</p> + +<p>My next experiment was with some lamp wick +to which I had tied bits of cotton. The titmouse +took the cotton and would have taken the wicking, +I think, if it had not been fastened in too tight +for her. After that I tried tying bits of cotton +to strings, and letting them dangle before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +mouth of the nest. Though I moved up to within +twenty feet of the nest, she paid no attention to +me but hurried in. She liked the cotton so well +she stopped in her hallway, reached up to pull at +the white bundles, and tweaked and tugged till, +finally, she backed triumphantly down the hole +with one.</p> + +<p>Her mate, less familiar with my experiments, +started to go to the nest after her, but the sight of +the cotton scared him so he fled ignominiously +back into the treetop. He stayed there singing +till she came out, when he flew up to her with a +dainty he had discovered—at least the two put +their bills together; perhaps it was just a caress, +for they were a tender, gentle little pair.</p> + +<p>Having proved that my bird liked feathers and +cotton, I wanted to see what she thought of straws. +Apparently she did not think much of them. She +looked very much dashed when she came home +and found the yellow sticks protruding from the +nest hole. She hesitated, turned her head over, +flew to a twig on one side of the oak and then +back to one on the other side. Finally she +mustered courage, and with her crest flattened as +if she did not like it, darted down into the hole. +When she flew out, however, she went right to +her mate, and forgetting all her troubles at sight +of him, fluttered her wings and lisped like a young +bird as she put up her bill to have him feed her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was unkind to bother the poor bird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +any more, but I meant her no harm and the fever +for experiment possessed my blood. I tied some +of the straws to a piece of wicking and baited it +with feathers, thinking that perhaps she would +take the straws for the sake of the feathers and +wicking. I also stuffed the hole with horsehair. +She did pull at the feather end of the line; I saw +the straw jerk, and, when she had left, found a +round hole the brave little bird had made right +through the middle of the mat of horsehair I had +stopped the nest with.</p> + +<p>Straws and horsehair the titmouse evidently +classed together. They were not on her list of +building materials. On reflection she decided +that the horsehair would make a good hall carpet, +so left it in the vestibule, though she would +have none of it down in her nest; but she calmly +threw my straws down on the ground at the foot +of the oak.</p> + +<p>I don't know what experiments I might have +been tempted to try next had I not suddenly found +myself dismissed—the house was complete. My +pretty Quaker lady sat in the shade of the oak +leaves with crest raised and the flickering sunlight +flecking her gray breast. She pecked softly at +one of the white feathers that blew up against +her as she listened to the song of her mate; and +then flew away to him without once going to the +nest. Evidently her work was done, and she was +waiting till it should be time to begin brooding.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ten days later I saw her mate come with his +bill full of worms and lean down by the hole to +call her. She answered with a sweet pleading +twitter, and reached up to be fed. When he had +gone, perhaps she thought she would like a second +bite. At any rate, she hopped out in the doorway +and flew off to another tree, calling out <i>tsché-de-de</i> +so sweetly he would surely have come back +to her had he been within hearing.</p> + +<p>A few days later I saw him feed her at the nest +five or six times in half an hour. He would come +to the next oak, light and call to her, when she +would answer from inside the tree trunk and he +would go to her. I was near enough to see her +pretty gray head and black eyes coming up out of +the crack in the oak. Sometimes when he had +fed her he would call out and she would answer +as if saying good-by from down in the nest. One +morning I found the devoted little mate bringing +her breakfast to her at half past six.</p> + +<p>Nearly a month later they were feeding their +young. The winsome mother bird, who had looked +so tired and nest-worn the last time I saw her, +was now as plump and happy as her spouse. When +I thought the pair were away, I went to try to +get sight of the nestlings down the hole. The +old birds appeared as soon as I set foot by the +oak and took upon themselves to scold me. They +chattered softly in a way they had never done +before. They quickly got used to me again, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +and fed the little ones without hesitation +right before me, knowing full well that a person +who had helped them build their nest would never +harm their little brood; and it was a disappointment +when I had to go away and leave the +winning family.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> +<h2>XVI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>IN OUR NEIGHBOR'S DOOR-YARD.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> little German girl with the scarlet pinafore +was a near neighbor, living at the head +of the valley in a cottage surrounded by great +live-oaks. These trees were alive with birds. +Bush-tits flew back and forth, busily hanging +their gray pockets among the leafy folds of +the drooping branches; blue jays flew through, +squawking on their way to the brush; goldfinches, +building in the orchard, lisped sweetly as +they rested in the oaks; and a handsome oriole +who was building in the grove flew overhead so +slowly he seemed to be retarded by the fullness +of his own sweet song. But I had become so +fond of the gentle gray titmouse whose nest I +had helped to build, that of all the bird songs in +the trees, its cheery <i>tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit'</i> was +most enticing to me. How delightful it would be +to watch another pair of the winning workers! +I did see one of the birds enter a hollow branch, +one day, and not long after saw it go down a +hole in an oak trunk; but never saw it afterwards +in either place. Back and forth I followed +that elusive voice, hoping to discover the nest,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +but I suspect the bird was only prospecting, and +had not even begun to work.</p> + +<p>The little German Gretchen became interested +in the search for the titmouse's nest, and told me +that a gray bird had built in an oak in front of +her house. I rode right over to see it, but found +the gray bird a female Mexican bluebird, whose +brilliant ultramarine mate sat on the fence of the +vegetable garden in plain sight. The children +kept better watch of the nest after that, and a +few days later, when in my attic study, I heard +the tramp of a horse, and, looking out, found my +little friend under the window, come to tell me +that the eggs had hatched. When her older sister +came for the washing I asked her if she had +seen the old birds go to the nest, and she said, +"Yes; one was blue and the other gray."</p> + +<p>When I rode up again, the young had grown +so that from the saddle I could look down the +hole and see their big mouths and bristling pin-feathers. +The mother bird was about the tree, +and her soft dull coloring toned in well with the +gray bark. The bluebirds had a double front +door, and went in one side to come out the other. +I saw both of them feed the young, the male flying +into the hole straight from the fence post.</p> + +<p>It seemed such hard work finding worms out +in the hot sun that I wondered if birds' eyes ever +ached from the intentness of their search, and if +there were near-sighted birds. Perhaps the intervals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +of feeding depend on the worm supply +rather than the dietary principles of the parents.</p> + +<p>Gretchen's mother was bending over her wash-tubs +out under the oaks, and I called her attention +to the pretty birds brooding in her door-yard, +telling her that they were good friends of hers, +eating up the worms that destroyed her flowers +and vegetables. "So?" she asked, but seemed +ready to let the subject drop there, and hurried +back to her work. A poor widow with a large +family of children and a ranch to look after can +find little time, even in beautiful California, to +enjoy what Nature places in her door-yard.</p> + +<p>Three weeks later Gretchen came riding down +to tell me that there were eggs in the tree again. +The bluebird bid fair to be as hardworked as the +widow, at that rate, I thought, when I went up to +look at them. The children showed me the nest +of a goldfinch, near the ground, in one of the +little orange-trees in front of the house. They +also pointed out linnets' nests in the vines by the +door, and the oldest child said eagerly, "When +we came home from school there was a hummingbird +in the window, and we caught it," adding, "I +think it must have been a father hummingbird." +"Why?" I asked, "was it pretty?" "Yes, it +just shined," she exclaimed enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>When the family were at home, their puppy +would bark at us furiously, and follow us about +suspiciously, but when he had been left on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +ranch alone he was glad of our society. Then +when I watched the bluebirds, he came and curled +down by my side, becoming so friendly that he +actually grew jealous of Billy, and turned to have +me caress him each time that the little horse +walked up to have the flies brushed off his nose, +or having pulled up a bunch of grass by the roots, +brought it for me to hold so that he could eat it +without getting the dirt in his mouth.</p> + +<p>Going home one day, Billy came upon a gopher +snake. Now Canello had been brought up in a +rattlesnake country, and was always on his guard, +but Billy was 'raised' in the mountains, where +snakes are scarce, and did not seem to know what +they were. He had given me a good deal of anxiety +by this indifference—he had stepped over a +big one once without seeing any need for haste—and +I had been expecting that he would get +bitten. Here, then, was my chance to give him a +scare. The gopher snake was harmless; perhaps, +if I could get him so close to it that he would see +it wriggle away from under his feet, he might be +less indifferent to rattlers.</p> + +<p>The gopher snake was three or four feet long, +and lay as straight as a stick across our path. +As I urged Billy up beside it, he actually stepped +on the tip of its tail. The poor snake writhed a +little, but gave no other sign of pain; its rôle was +to remain a stick. And Billy certainly acted as +if it were. I threw the reins on his neck, thinking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +that if he put his head down to graze he +might make a discovery. Then a horrid thought +came to me. The people said the rattlers sometimes +lost their rattles. In a general way, rattlers +and gopher snakes look alike; what if this +were a rattlesnake, and at my bidding my little +horse should be struck! But no. There was +no mistaking the long tapering body of the gopher, +and it lacked the wide flat head of the +rattler. But I might have spared myself my +fears. Billy would not even put his head down, +and when I tried to force him upon the snake he +quietly turned aside. To make the snake move, +I threw a stick at it, but it was as obstinate as +Billy himself. Then I slipped to the ground, and +picking up a long pole gave it a gingerly little +poke. Still motionless! I tried another plan, +taking Billy away a few yards. Then at last +the snake slowly pulled itself along. But the +moment we came back it turned into a stick +again, and Billy relapsed into indifference. It +was no use. I could do nothing with either of +them. I would see the snake go off, anyway, I +thought, so withdrew and waited till it felt reassured, +when it started. Its silken skin shone +as it wormed silently through the grass and disappeared +down a hole without a sound, and I +reflected that it might also come <i>up</i> without a +sound, very likely beside me as I sat on the dead +leaves!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 421px;"> +<img src="images/i215.png" width="421" height="230" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h2>XVII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHICH WAS THE MOTHER BIRD?</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> second time I went to California the little +whitewashed adobe opposite my ranch was still +standing, but an acacia-tree had grown over the +well where the black phœbe had nested, and the +shaft was so overrun with bushes and vines that +it was hard to find a trace of it. Drawn by +pleasant memories, I rode in one morning, sure +of finding something interesting about the old +place.</p> + +<p>I had not waited long before the chip of a +young bird came from the vines over the well. +It proved a callow nestling, with no tail, and little +to mark its parentage. Presently a brown long-tailed +wren-tit came with food in its bill and +peered down through the leaves at it; and then +a California towhee came and sat around till satisfied +as to whose child was crying. A moment +later a lazuli bunting flew over with food in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +bill, and I at once bethought me of the lazuli-like +markings, the brownish wing-bars and the +sharp cry of "quit," which none but a lazuli could +give. That surely was my bird.</p> + +<p>But if so, what did this interest on the part of +the wren-tit mean? She hopped about the nestling +with tail up and crest raised, chattering to it +in low mysterious tones; and when I suspected +her of giving her worm to it, suddenly turned +her head and looked away with a suspiciously +non-<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'commital'">committal</ins> air. The lazuli, however, sat indifferently +on a branch and plumed her feathers, +though when she did fly down toward the young +one, the wren-tit gave way. But even then the +lazuli did not feed the small bird. When she +had gone, the wren-tit came back. She spoke low +to the nestling, and drew it down into the thick +part of the tangle where I could not see them, +though there was a hint of tiny quivering wings, +and I was morally certain that the old bird was +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'eeding'">feeding</ins> it, especially when she flew up in sight +with the smart air of having outwitted me.</p> + +<p>I was getting more and more bewildered. +What did it all mean? Were there two families +of young down in the tangle? If not, why were +two old birds feeding one little one, and to which +mother did the child belong? The wisdom of +Solomon was needed to solve the riddle.</p> + +<p>The wren-tit simply devoted herself to the little +bird, going and coming for it constantly; while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +the lazuli, ordinarily the most nervous noisy bird +when her young are disturbed, sat around silently, +or flew away without remark. I became so impressed +by the wren-tit side of the case that I +quite forgot the lazuli note and markings.</p> + +<p>Just as I thought I had come to a decision in +the case, a male lazuli flew in, lighting atilt of +an acacia stalk opposite the wren-tit. But when +he saw me he craned his neck and flew off in a +hurry—no father, surely, scared away at the first +glimpse of me! However, I was not clear in my +mind, and sat down to puzzle the matter out.</p> + +<p>At this juncture Madame Lazuli came with +food; the young bird turned toward her for it, +and behold! she took to her wings with all she +had brought. I had hardly time to congratulate +myself on this new piece of testimony, when back +came the lazuli with her bill full!</p> + +<p>In my perplexity I moved so near the little one +that, without meaning to, I forced the old birds +to show their true colors. The situation was too +dangerous to admit of further subterfuge. Both +Madame Lazuli and her handsome blue mate—whom +I discovered at a safe distance up on a high +branch out of reach—flew down and dashed +about, twitching their tails from side to side as +they cried "quit," in nervous tones; altogether +acting so much like anxious parents that I had to +relinquish my theory that the little bird belonged +to the wren-tit. Like the mother whom Solomon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +judged, she forgot all else when real danger +threatened the child. Having come to my decision +from circumstantial evidence, I remembered +with a start that I had known it all the time, +from the wing-bars and the call note! Nevertheless, +my riddle was only half solved, for how +about the wren-tit?</p> + +<p>A young bird called from the sycamore at the +corner of the adobe, and when both old birds flew +over to it, I thought I'd better follow. I got +there just in time to see a little bird light in the +elbow of a limb, totter as if going to fall, and save +itself by snuggling up in the elbow, where it sat +in the sun looking very cozy and comfortable—winning +little tot. The mother lazuli started to +come to it, but seeing me flew away to another +branch, where, well screened, she stretched up on +her toes to look at me over the top of a big sycamore +leaf. Though the fledgling called, the +mother left without going to it.</p> + +<p>The wren-tit had stayed behind at the well; but +while the lazuli was gone, who should come flying +in but the foster mother! I was astonished. +Moreover, the instant the youngster set eyes on +her, it started up and flew to her—actually flew +into her in its hurry. She admonished it gently, +in a soft chattering voice, for she could not scold it.</p> + +<p>When the lazuli came back with food, it was +only to see her little bird flying off to the other +side of the tree after the wren-tit! I thought she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +seemed bewildered, but she followed in their wake—we +all followed. Here came a closer test. +Both lazuli and wren-tit stood before the small +bird. Which would it go to? The lazuli kept +silent, but the wren-tit called softly and the little +one raised its wings and flew toward her, leaving +its mother behind.</p> + +<p>I watched and waited, but the wren-tit did not +give over her kind offices, and the last I saw of +the birds, on riding away, the three were flying +in procession across the brush, the lazuli following +its mother and the wren-tit bringing up the rear.</p> + +<p>I went home very much puzzled. Was the +wren-tit a lonely mother bird who had lost her +own little ones, or was she merely an old maid +with a warm spot in her heart for other peoples' +little folks?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> +<h2>XVIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A RARE BIRD.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> may say that we care naught for the world +and its ways, but most of us are more or less +tricked by the high-sounding titles of the mighty. +Even plain-thinking observers come under the +same curse of Adam, and, like the snobs who turn +scornfully from Mr. Jones to hang upon the words +of Lord Higginbottom, will pass by a plain <i>brown +chippie</i> to study with enthusiasm the ways of a +<i>phainopepla!</i> Sometimes, however, in ornithology +as in the world, a name does cover more +than its letters, and we are duped into making +some interesting discoveries as well as learning +some of the important lessons in life. In the case +of the phainopepla, no hopes that could be raised +by his cognomen would equal the rare pleasure +afforded by a study of his unusual ways.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/i221.png" width="404" height="508" alt="THE PHAINOPEPLAS ON THE PEPPER-TREE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PHAINOPEPLAS ON THE PEPPER-TREE</span> +</div> + +<p>On my first visit to Twin Oaks I caught but +brief glimpses of this distinguished bird. Sometimes +for a moment he lit on a bare limb and +I had a chance to admire his high black crest +and glossy blue-black coat, which with one more +touch of color would become iridescent. He was +so slenderly formed, and his shining coat was so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +smooth and trim, he made me think of a bird of +glass perched on a tree. But while I gazed at +him he would launch into the air and wing his +way high over the valley to the hillsides beyond, +leaving me to marvel at the white disks on his +wings, hidden when perching, but in air making +him suggest a black ship with white sails.</p> + +<p>His appearance was so elegant and his ways so +unusual that I went back East regretting I had +not given more time to a bird who was so individual, +and resolved that if I ever returned to +California my first pleasure should be to study +him. When the time finally came, an ornithologist +friend who knew my plans wrote, exclaiming, +"Do study the phainopeplas!" and added +that she felt like making a journey to California +to see that one bird.</p> + +<p>From the middle of March till the middle of +May I watched and waited for the phainopeplas. +There had been only a few of the birds before, +and I began to fear they had left the valley. +When despairing of them, suddenly one day I +saw a black speck cross over to the hills. I +wanted to drop my work and follow, but went on +with my rounds, and one bright morning on my +way home after a discouraging hunt for nests, a +pair of phainopeplas flew up right before my eyes +almost within sight of the house. I dropped down +behind a bush, and in a moment more the birds +flew to a little oak by the road—a tree I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +been sitting under that very morning! The +female seated herself on top of the oak, watching +me with raised crest, while her mate disappeared +in a dark mat of leaves, probably mistletoe, where +he stayed so long that the possibility of a nest +waxed to a probability, and I made a rapid but +ecstatic ascent to the observer's seventh heaven. A +phainopepla's nest right on my own doorsill! I +could hardly restrain my impatience, and was +tempted to shoo the birds away so I could go to +the nest; when suddenly they opened their wings +and, crossing the valley, disappeared up a side +canyon! Pulling myself together and reflecting +that I might have known better than to imagine +there would be a nest so near home, I took up my +camp-stool and trudged back to the house.</p> + +<p>After that came a number of tantalizing hints. +When watching the third gnatcatcher's nest I +had seen a pair of phainopeplas flying suggestively +back and forth from the brush to the various +oaks, and thought the handsome lover fed +his mate as his relative the gentle high-bred waxwing +does. Surely the wooing of these beautiful +birds should be carried on with no less fine feeling, +courtesy, and tenderness; and so it seems to +be. The black knight flew low over my head +slowly, as if inspecting me, and then came again +with his lady, as if having said, "Dear one, I +would consult you upon this impending danger."</p> + +<p>After that, something really delightful came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +about. Day by day, on riding back to our ranch-house, +I found phainopeplas there eating the berries +of the pepper-trees in our front yard. Before +long the birds began coming early in the morning; +their voices were the first sounds we heard +on awakening and almost the last at night, and +soon we realized the delightful fact that our trees +had become the feeding ground for all the phainopeplas +of the valley. Altogether there were five +or six pairs. It was a pretty sight to see the +black satiny birds perched on one of the delicate +sprays of the willowy pepper-trees, hanging over +the grape-like clusters, to pluck the small pink +berries. The birds soon grew very friendly, and, +though they gave a cry of warning when the cats +appeared, became so tame they would answer +my calls and let me watch them from the piazza +steps, not a rod away.</p> + +<p>When they first began to linger about the house +we thought they were building near, and when +one flew into an oak across the road, almost gave +me palpitation of the heart by the suggestion. +But no nest was there, and when the bird flew +away it rose obliquely into the air perhaps a +hundred feet, and then flew on evenly straight +across to the small oaks on the farther side of a +patch of brush that remained in the centre of the +valley, known to the ranchmen as the 'Island.' +The flight looked so premeditated that the first +thing the next morning, although the phainopeplas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +were at the peppers, I rode on ahead to +wait for them at their nest. We had not been +there long before hearing the familiar warning +call. Turning Billy in the direction of the sound, +I threw his reins on his neck to induce him to +graze along the way and give our presence a more +casual air, while I looked up indifferently as if to +survey the landscape. To my delight the phainopepla +did not seem greatly alarmed, and, throwing +off the assumed indifference that always +makes an observer feel like a wretched hypocrite, +I called and whistled to him as I had done at the +house, to let him know that it was a familiar +friend and he had nothing to fear. The beautiful +bird started toward me, but on second thought +retreated. I turned my back, but, to my chagrin, +after giving a few low warning calls, my bird +vanished. Alas, for the generations of murderers +that have made birds distrust their best friends—that +make honest observers tremble for what +may befall the birds if they put trust in but one +of the human species!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i227.jpg" width="550" height="396" alt="THE PHAINOPEPLA'S NEST IN THE OAK BRUSH ISLAND" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE PHAINOPEPLA'S NEST IN THE OAK BRUSH ISLAND</span> +</div> + +<p>It was plain that if I would get a study of +these rare birds I must make a business of it. +Slipping from the saddle, I sat down behind a +bush and waited. When the bird came back and +found the place apparently deserted, to my relief +he seated himself on a twig and sang away as if +nothing had disturbed his serenity of spirit. But +presently the warning call sounded again. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +time it was for a schoolgirl who had staked out +her horse on the edge of the island and was crossing +over to the schoolhouse. A few moments +later the bell rang out so loudly that Billy stepped +around his oak with animation, but the phainopeplas +were used to it and showed no uneasiness.</p> + +<p>Before long a flash of white announced a second +bird, and then, after a long interval in which +nothing happened, the male pitched into a bush +with beak bristling with building material! My +delight knew no bounds. Instead of nesting in +the top of an oak in a remote canyon, as I had +been assured the shy birds would do, here they +were building in a low oak not more than an +eighth of a mile from the house, and in plain +sight. Moreover, they were birds who knew me +at home, and so would really be much less afraid +than strangers, whatever airs they assumed. In +the photograph, the bare twigs of the perch tree +show above the line of the horizon; the nest tree +is the low oak beside it on the right. One thing +puzzled me from the outset. While the male +worked on the nest, the female sat on the outside +circle of brush as if having nothing to do, in spite +of the fact that her gray dress toned in so well +with the brush that she was quite inconspicuous, +while his shining black coat made him a clear +mark from a distance. What did it mean? I +invented all sorts of fancies to account for it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Had she been to the pepper-trees so much less +than he that she was over-troubled by my presence, +and therefore the gallant black knight who +sang to her so sweetly and was so tender of her, +seeing her fears, took the work upon himself? +Perchance he had said, "If you are timid, my +love, I will build for you while she is by, for I +would not have you come near if it would disquiet +you."</p> + +<p>In any event, he built away quite unconcernedly +not three rods from where I sat on the +ground staring at him. He would fly to the +earth for material, but return to the nest from +above, pitching down to it as if having nothing +to hide. Once, when resting, he perched on the +tree, and I talked to him quite freely. That noon +the phainopeplas were at the house before me, +and I went out to talk to them while they lunched +to let them know it was only I who had visited +their nest, so they would have new confidence on +the morrow.</p> + +<p>But on the morrow they flew to another part +of the island, and when we followed, although I +hitched Billy farther away from the nest tree and +sat quietly behind a brush screen, they did not +come back. A brown chippie plumed his feathers +unrebuked in their oak, making the place seem +more deserted than before. A lizard ran out +from the grape cuttings at my feet, and a little +black and white mephitis cantered along over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +the ground with his back arched and his head +down. He nosed around under the bushes, showing +the white V on his back, exactly like that of +our eastern species. As I rode home, five turkey +buzzards were flying low over the edge of the +island, and one vulture rose from a meal of one +of the little black and white animal's relatives, +but I saw nothing more of my birds that day.</p> + +<p>The next day the phainopeplas came again +to the pepper-trees and ate their fill while I sat +on the steps watching. The male was quite unconcerned, +but when his mate flew near me, he +called out sharply; he could risk his own life, but +not that of his love. Again the pair flew back to +the high oaks on the far side of the island. All +my hopes of the first low inaccessible nest vanished. +I had driven the birds away. My intrusiveness +had made me lose the best chance of the +whole nesting season. But I would try to follow +them. It did not seem necessary to take Billy. +There were only a few trees on that side of the +island, and it would be a simple matter to locate +the birds. I would walk over, find in which tree +they were building, and spend the morning with +them. I went. Each oak was encircled by a +thick wall of brush, over which it was almost impossible +to see more than a fraction of the tree, +and the high oak tops were impenetrable to eye +and glass. After chasing phantoms all the afternoon +I went home with renewed respect for Billy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +as an adjunct to field work. In order to locate +anything in chaparral, one must be high enough +to overlook the mass.</p> + +<p>That afternoon I saw a pair of phainopeplas +fly up a canyon on the east, and another pair +fly up another on the west. If I were to know +anything of these birds, I must not be balked +by faulty observing; I must at least do intelligent +work. Riding in from the back and tying +Billy out of sight away from the old nest, I +swung myself up into a crotch of a low oak from +which I could overlook the whole island. The +phainopeplas soon flew in, but to the opposite +side, and I was condemning myself for having +driven them away when, to my amazement, the +male flew over and shot down into the little oak +where he had been building before! My self-reproach +took a different form—I had not been +patient enough. Surely if I could wait an hour +for an ordinary hummingbird, I could wait a +morning for an absent phainopepla.</p> + +<p>From the nest the beautiful bird flew to the +bare oak top behind it which he used for a +perch, and—alas! gave his warning call. I was +discovered. He dashed his tail, turned his head +to look at me first from one side and then from +the other, and then flew to the top of the highest +tree in sight to verify his observations. Whether +he recognized the object as his pepper-tree acquaintance, +I do not know; but to my great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +relief he went back to his work. By this time +the little tree which had seemed such a comfortable +chair had undergone a change—I felt as +if stretched upon the gridiron of St. Anthony. +Climbing down stiffly, I kneeled behind the +brush and practiced focusing my glass on the +nest so that it would not catch the light and +frighten the bird, when out he flew from the +nest and sat down facing me in broad daylight! +He did not say a word, but looked around abstractedly, +as if hunting for material.</p> + +<p>If he were so indifferent, perhaps it would be +safe to creep nearer. Following the paths trodden +by the bare feet of the school children, and +spying and skulking, I crept into a good hiding-place +about a rod from the nest. The ground +was covered with dead leaves, and I saw a suggestive +round hole—a very large rattlesnake +had been killed a few rods away the week before. +I covered the hole with my cloak and then sat +down on the lid—nothing could come up while +I was there, at all events.</p> + +<p>The phainopepla worked busily for some time, +flying rapidly back and forth with material. +Then came the warning cry. I drew in my note-book +from the sun so that it should not catch +his eye, and waited. The hot air grew hotter, +beating down on my head. A big lizard wriggled +over the leaves, and I thought of my rattlesnake. +Then Billy sneezed in a forced way, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +though to remind me not to go off without him. +Growing restless, I moved the bushes a little—they +were so stiff they made a very good chair-back +if one got into the right position—when +suddenly, looking up I saw my phainopepla +friend vault into the air from a bush behind me, +where, apparently, he had been sitting taking +notes of his own! What observers birds are, to +be sure! The best of us have much to learn +from them.</p> + +<p>But though the phainopepla was most watchful, +he was open to conviction, and he and his mate +at last concluded that I meant them no harm. +Afterwards, when I moved, they both came and +looked at me, but went about their business +quite unmindful of me.</p> + +<p>As I had seen from the outset, the male did +almost all the building. When his spouse came +in sight he burst out into a tender joyous love +song. She went to the nest now and again, but +generally when she came it was to sun herself +on the bare perch tree, where she dressed her +plumes or merely sat with crest raised and her +soft gray feathers fluffed about her feet, while +waiting for her mate to get leisure to take a run +with her.</p> + +<p>When he had finished his stint and she was +not about, he would take his turn on the perch +tree, his handsome glossy black coat shining in +the sun. If an unwitting neighbor lit on his tree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +he would flatten his crest and dash down indignantly, +but for the most part he perched quietly +except to make short sallies into the air for insects, +sometimes singing as he went; or he just +warbled to himself contentedly, what sounded +like the chattering run of a swallow on the wing. +One day we had quite a conversation. His +simplest call note was like the call of a young +robin, and while I answered him he gave his +note seventeen times in one minute, and eleven +times in the next half minute.</p> + +<p>The birds had a great variety of calls and +songs, most of which were vivacious and cheering +and seemed attuned to the warmth and brightness +of the California sunshine. The quality +of the love song was rich and flute-like.</p> + +<p>The male phainopepla seemed to enjoy life +in general and his work in particular. He frequently +sang to himself when going for material; +and once, apparently, when on the nest. When +he was building I could see his black head move +about between the leaves. Like the gnatcatchers, +he used only fine bits of material, but he did +not drill them in as they did. He merely laid +them in, or at most wove them in gently. Now +and then, as the black head moved in front, the +black tail would tilt up behind at the back of +the nest as if the bird were moulding; but there +was comparatively little of that. When completed, +the nest was a soft felty structure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>When working, the male would fly back and +forth from the ground to the nest, carrying his +bits of plant stem, oak blossom, and other fine +stuff. He worked so rapidly that it kept me +busy recording his visits. He once went to the +nest four times in four minutes; at another time, +seventeen times in a little over an hour. Sometimes +he stayed only half a minute; when he +stayed three minutes, it was so unusual that I +recorded it. He worked spasmodically, however. +One day he came seventeen times in one +hour, but during the next half hour came only +five times. The birds seemed to divide their +mornings into quite regular periods. When I +awoke at half past five I would hear them at +the pepper-trees breakfasting; and some of them +were generally there as late as eight o'clock. +From eight to ten they worked with a will, +though the visits usually fell off after half past +nine. It was when working in this more deliberate +way that the male would go to his perch +on an adjoining tree and preen himself, catch +flies, or sing between his visits. Once he sat on +the limb in front of the nest for nearly ten +minutes. By ten o'clock I found that I might +as well go to watch other birds, as little would +be going on with the phainopeplas; and they +often flew off for a lunch of peppers.</p> + +<p>Just as the island nest was about done—it +was destroyed! I found it on the ground under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +the tree. For a time I felt as if no nests could +come to anything; the number that had been +destroyed during the season was disheartening. +It seemed as though I no sooner got interested +in a little family than its home was broken up. +Sometimes I wondered how a bird ever had courage +to start a nest.</p> + +<p>But though it was hard to reconcile myself to +the destruction of the phainopeplas' nest, I found +others later. Altogether, I saw three pairs of +birds building, and in each case the male was +doing most of the work. Two of the nests I +watched closely, watch and note-book in hand, in +order to determine the exact proportion of work +done by each bird. One nest was watched two +hours and a half, during a period of five days, in +which time the male went to the nest twenty-seven +times, the female, only three. The other +nest was watched seven hours and thirty-five minutes, +during a period of ten days, in which time +the male was at the nest fifty-seven times; the +female, only eight. Taking the total for the two +nests: in ten hours and five minutes the male went +to the nest eighty-four times; the female, eleven. +That is to say, the females made only thirteen per +cent of the visits. In reality, although they went +to the nest eleven times, the ratio of work might +safely be reduced still further; for in watching +them I was convinced that, as a rule, they came +to the nest, not to build, but to inspect the building<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +done by their mates. Indeed, at one nest, I +saw nothing to make me suspect that the female +did any of the work. Her coming was usually +welcomed by a joyous song, but once the evidence +seemed to prove that she was driven away; perhaps +she was too free with her criticisms! In +another case the work was sadly interrupted by +the presence of the visitor, for while she sat in +the nest her excited mate flew back and forth as +if he had quite forgotten the business in hand. +Perhaps he was nervous, and wanted to make sure +what she was doing in the new house!</p> + +<p>In several instances I found that while the +males were at work building, the females went +off by themselves. Once I saw Madame Phainopepla +bring her friend home with her. No sooner +had the visitor lit than—shocking to relate—the +lord of the house left his work and drove her +off with bill and claw—a polite way to treat his +lady's friends, surely! On one occasion, when +I looked up I saw a procession passing overhead—two +females followed by a male. The male +flew hesitatingly, as if troubled by his conscience, +and then, deciding that if the nest was ever going +to be built he had better keep at it, turned around +and came back to work. One day when I rode +over to the chaparral island, I found two of the +males sitting around in the brush. They played +tag until tired, and then perched on a branch in +the sun, side by side, evidently enjoying themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +like light-hearted, care-free bachelors. +Their mates were not in sight. But suddenly +I glanced up and saw two females flying in to +the island high overhead, as if coming from a +distance. Instantly the indifferent holiday air +of their mates vanished. They gave their low +warning calls, for I was on the ground and they +must not show me their nests. In answer to the +warning the females wavered, and then, when +their mates joined them, all four flew away together.</p> + +<p>At other times when I rode in the males would +make large circles, seventy-five feet above me, as +if to get a clear understanding of the impending +danger. This was when small nest hunters were +about, and the birds were some whose nests I did +not find, and who had no opportunity to become +convinced of my good intentions.</p> + +<p>After finding that the males did most of the +building, I was anxious to see how it would be +when the brooding began. Three of my nests +were broken up beforehand, however, and the +fourth was despoiled after I had watched the birds +on the nest one day. Nevertheless, the evidence +of that day was most interesting as far as it went. +It proved that while the female lacked the architect's +instinct, she was not without the maternal +instinct. There were two eggs in the nest, and in +the one hour that I watched, each bird brooded +the eggs six times. Before this, the female had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +been to the nest so much less than the male that +now she was much shyer; but although Billy +frightened her by tramping down the brush near +by, it was she who first overcame her fears and +went to cover the eggs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> +<h2>XIX.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>MY BLUE GUM GROVE.</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> of the first things I did on getting settled +on my ranch, the second time I was in California, +was to get a wagon and go down to my eucalyptus +grove for a load of the pale green aromatic +boughs with which to trim my attic study; +for their fragrance is delightful and their delicate +blue-green tone lends itself readily to decorative +purposes. When the supply needed replenishing, +I rode down on Mountain Billy and carried +home the sweet-smelling branches on the saddle.</p> + +<p>The grove served a more utilitarian purpose, +however. The eucalyptus is an Australian tree, +with narrow straight-hanging leaves, and its +rapid growth makes it useful for firewood. A +tree will grow forty feet in four years, and when +cut off a few feet above the ground will spring +up again and soon be ready to yield another +crop. My grove had never been cut, but would +soon be old enough. In the photograph of a +eucalyptus avenue near Los Angeles, the row +of trees on the right have been cut near the +ground and the branching trunks are the consequence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> +<img src="images/i243.jpg" width="408" height="550" alt="EUCALYPTUS AVENUE, SHOWING POLLARDED TREES ON THE RIGHT, NEAR LOS ANGELES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">EUCALYPTUS AVENUE, SHOWING POLLARDED TREES ON THE RIGHT, NEAR LOS ANGELES</span> +</div> + +<p>My eucalyptus or blue gum grove was down +near the big sycamore, and opposite the bare +knoll where Romulus and the burrowing owls +had their nightly battles. On one side of it +was a rustling cornfield always pleasant to look +at. After the bare yellow stubble and all the +reds and browns of a California summer landscape, +its rich dark green color and its stanch, +strong stalks made it seem a very plain honest +sort of field, and its greenness was most grateful +to eyes unused to the bright colors and strong +lights of California.</p> + +<p>Opposite the little grove, in a small house +perched on a hill, an old sea-captain lived alone. +As I rode by one day, he sat with his feet hanging +over the edge of the high piazza, looking +off; as if on the prow of his vessel, gazing out +to sea. When I stopped to ask if he had seen +anything noteworthy happen at the grove, he +complained that it shut off his view and kept +away the breeze from the ocean! I was too +much taken by surprise to apologize for my +trees, but felt reproached; unwittingly I had +destroyed the old captain's choicest pleasure. +He had spoken in an impersonal way that I +quite understood,—he had been taken unawares,—but +the next time I rode past, as if to make +up for any apparent rudeness, he came hurrying +down the walk to tell me of a crow's nest he +had seen in the grove. To mark it he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +fastened a piece of paper to the wire fence by +the road, and another paper to the nest tree, +binding it on with a eucalyptus twig in true +sailor fashion.</p> + +<p>It was always a relief to leave the hot beating +sun and the glare of the yellow fields and enter +the cool shade of the quiet grove. I could let +down the fence and put it up behind me; thus +having my small forest all to myself; and used +to enjoy riding up and down the fragrant blue +avenues. The eucalyptus-trees, although thirty +or forty feet high, were lithe and slender; some +of them could be spanned by the hands. The +rows were planted ten feet apart, but the long +branches interlaced, so one had to be on the +alert, in riding down the lines, to bend low on +the saddle or push aside the branches that obstructed +the way. The limbs were so slender +and flexible that a touch was enough to bend +back a green gate fifteen to twenty feet long, +and Billy often pushed a branch aside with his +nose. In places, fallen trees barred our path, +but Billy used to step carefully over them.</p> + +<p>The eucalyptus-trees change very curiously +as they grow old. When young they are covered +with branches low to the ground, and their +aromatic tender leaves are light bluish green; +afterwards they lose their lower branches, while +their leaves become stiff and sickle-shaped, dull +green and almost odorless. The same changes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +are seen in the bark: first the trunks are smooth +and green; then they are hung with shaggy +shreds of bark; this in turn drops off so that +the old trees are smooth again. Some of the +young shoots have almost white stems, and their +leaves have a pinkish tinge. Indeed, a young +blue gum is as pretty a sight as one often sees; +it is a tree of exquisite delicacy of coloring.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i247.jpg" width="550" height="415" alt="EUCALYPTUS WOOD STORED FOR MARKET, IN A EUCALYPTUS GROVE NEAR LOS ANGELES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">EUCALYPTUS WOOD STORED FOR MARKET, IN A EUCALYPTUS GROVE NEAR LOS ANGELES</span> +</div> + +<p>Mountain Billy and I both liked to wander +among the blue gums. Billy liked it, perhaps, +for association's sake, for we had ridden through +the eucalyptus at his home in northern California. +I too had pleasant memories of the +northern gums, but my first interest was in +finding out who lived in my little woods. A +dog had once been seen driving a coyote wolf +out of it, but that was merely in passing. I +did not expect to meet wolves there. It was +said, however, to be a good place for tarantulas, +so at first I stepped over the dead leaf carpet +with great caution; but never seeing any of +the big spiders, grew brave and sat indifferently +right on the ground before the nests, or leaning +up against the trees. The ground was almost +as hard as a rock, for the eucalyptus absorbed +all the moisture, and that may have had something +to do with its freedom from snakes and +scorpions, though it would not explain the +absence of caterpillars and spiders, which just +then were so common outside. Though in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +grove a great deal, I never ran into but one +cobweb, and was conscious of the pleasant freedom +from falling caterpillars. Moreover, I +never saw a lizard in the blue gums, though +dozens of them were to be seen about the oaks +and in the brush.</p> + +<p>It was a surprise to find so many feathered +folks living in the eucalyptus, and I took a +personal interest in each one of the inhabitants. +The first time we started to go up and down +the avenues we scared up a pair of turtle doves, +beautiful, delicately tinted gentle creatures, fit +tenants of the lovely grove. They did not know +my friendly interest in them, and flew to the +ground trailing and trying to decoy me away +in such a marked manner that when we passed +a young dove a few yards farther on, it was easy +to put two and two together.</p> + +<p>Yellow-birds called <i>cheet'-tee, ca-cheet'-ta-tee</i>, +and the grove became musical with the sweet +calls of the young brood. There was one nest +with a roof of shaggy bark, and I wondered if +the birds thought it would be pleasant to live +under a roof, or whether the bark had fallen +down on them after they built. I could get no +trace of the owners of the nest, and it troubled +me, not liking to have any little homes in my +wood that I did not know all about. As we went +down one aisle, a big bird went blundering out +ahead of us, probably an owl, for afterwards we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +stumbled on a skeleton and feathers of one of the +family.</p> + +<p>In one of the trees we came to an enormous +nest made of the unusual materials that are +sometimes chosen by that strange bird, the road-runner. +It was an exciting discovery, for that +was before the road-runner had come to the ranch-house, +and I had been pursuing phantom runners +over the hills in the vain attempt to learn something +about them; while here, it seemed, one had +been living under my very vine and fig-tree! To +make sure about the nest, I spoke to my neighbor +ranchman, and he told me that when he had +been milking during the spring he had often seen +the birds come out of the blue gums, and had +also seen them perching there on the trees. How +exasperating! If I had only come earlier! Now +they had gone, and my chance of a nest study +was lost.</p> + +<p>But my doll was not stuffed with sawdust, for +all of that. There was still much to enjoy, for a +mourning dove flew from her nest of twigs almost +over Billy's head, and it made me quite happy to +know that the gentle bird was brooding her eggs +in my woods. Then it was delightful to see a +lazuli bunting on her nest down another aisle. +It seemed odd, for there was her little cousin +nesting out in the weeds in the bright sun, while +she was raising her brood in the shady forest. +The two nests were as unlike as the sites. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +bird outside had used dull green weeds, while +this one used beautiful shining oak stems. I +thought the pretty bird would surely be safe here, +but one day when I called, expecting to see a +growing family, I was shocked to find a pathetic +little skeleton in the nest.</p> + +<p>One afternoon in riding down the rows, I came +face to face with two mites of hummingbirds +seated on a branch. Their grayish green suits +toned in with the color of the blue gums. It +was a surprise when one of them turned to the +other and fed it—the mother hummer was small +enough to be taken for a nestling! She sat beside +her son and fed him in the conventional +way, by plunging her bill down his open mouth. +When she had flown off, he stretched his wings, +whirred them as if for practice, and then moved +his bill as if still tasting the dainty he had had +for supper. He sat very unconcernedly on a low +branch right out in the middle of the road, but +Billy did not run over him.</p> + +<p>I found two hummers' nests in the eucalyptus +during the summer. One builder was the one +the photographer was fortunate enough to catch +brooding; her nest, the one so charmingly placed +on a light blue branch between two straight +spreading leaves, like the knot between two bows +of stiff ribbon.</p> + +<p>The second nest was on a drooping branch, and, +to make it stand level, was deepened on the down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +side of the limb, making it the highest hummingbird's +nest I had ever seen. It was attached to a +red leaf—to mark the spot, perhaps—one often +wonders how a bird can come back twice to the +same leaf in a forest. How one little home does +make a place habitable! From a bare silent +woods it becomes a dwelling-place. Everything +seemed to centre around this little nest, then the +only one in the grove; the tiny pinch of down +became the most important thing in the woods. +It was the castle which the trees surrounded.</p> + +<p>When I first found the nest it held two white +warm eggs about as large as peas, and I became +much interested in watching their progress, often +riding down to see how they were getting on. +The hummer did not return my interest. She +was nervous, darting off when Billy shook himself +or when the shadow of a soaring turkey buzzard +fell over the nest; but in spite of that we +made ourselves quite at home before her door. I +would dismount and sit on the ground, leaning +against a blue gum, while Billy stood by, in a +bower of green leaves, with ears pricked forward +thoughtfully, and a dreamy look of satisfaction in +his eyes. Hummingbirds are such dainty things. +Once when this one alighted on the rim of her +nest she whirred herself right down inside. Soon +she began to act so strangely for a brooding bird +that, when she flew, I went to feel in the nest. +The tips of my fingers touched what felt like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +round balls, but, not satisfied, I pulled down the +bough and found one round ball and one mite of +a gray back with microscopic yellow hairs on each +side of the spine. The whole tiny body seemed +to throb with its heart beats. I wondered how +such a midget could ever be fed, but found, as in +the case of the hummer under the little lover's +tree, that the mother gave its food most gently, +reserving her violent pumping for a more suitable +age; though one would as soon think of poking a +needle down a baby's throat as that bill.</p> + +<p>Often, while watching the nest, my thoughts +wandered away to the grove itself. The brown +earth between the rows was barred by alternate +lines of sunlight and shadow, and the vista of each +avenue ended in blue sky. Sometimes cool ocean +breezes would penetrate the forest. The rows of +trees, with their gently swaying, interlacing +branches, cast moving shadows over the sun-touched +leafy floor, giving a white light to the +grove; for the undersides of the young eucalyptus +leaves are like snow. From the stiff, sickle-shaped +upper leaves the sun glanced, dazzling +the eyes. Mourning doves cooed, and the sweet +notes of yellow-birds filled the sunny grove with +suggestions of happiness. A yellow butterfly +wandered down the blue aisles. Such a secure +retreat! I returned to it again and again, coming +in out of the hot yellow world and closing behind +me the doors of my 'rest-house,' for the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +wood had come to seem like a cool wayside chapel, +a place of peace.</p> + +<p>And when I finally left California, deserting +Mountain Billy to return to the East, of all my +haunts the one left the most unwillingly was the +little blue gum grove, the peaceful wayside rest-house, +in whose whitened shade we had spent so +many quiet hours together.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 328px;"> +<img src="images/i254.jpg" width="328" height="221" alt="bronco" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> +<h2>INDEX</h2> + + +<div> +<br /> +<a name="Bee-bird" id="Bee-bird"></a>Bee-bird, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>-<a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">catching bees, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">caught in cobweb rope, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">defending nest with life, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>-<a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">domesticity, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flycatching, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">making living off blackbirds, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">noisy, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">notes, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quarrelsome, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Bird Psychology,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">association of ideas, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">caution, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">courage, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>-<a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">curiosity, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dissimulation, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">emotion,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">fear, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">grief, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">joy, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">unusual action under excitement, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">expression of emotion and ideas,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">by use of crests, attitudes, and movements, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By voice,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">calls of warning, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">conversation, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">cries of anger, anxiety, distress, fear, pain, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">exclamations, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">scoldings, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">songs of happiness, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">songs of love, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">humor, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">individuality, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>-<a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>,126, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>-<a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">inherited instincts, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">intelligence shown in,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">building, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>-<a href="#Page_218">218</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">disciplining young, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">getting food by others' work, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">profiting by mistakes, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>-<a href="#Page_154">154</a> (?);</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">protecting young, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">removing nest from danger, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">selecting materials for nest, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">selecting nesting site, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">silence of young in danger, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">keen senses, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">local attachment, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">special perches, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">play impulse, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a> (?), <a href="#Page_208">208</a>-<a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pride of possession, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>-<a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">self-denial, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Birds,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">adaptation, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">protective coloration, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">domestic life,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">accept help in building, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>-<a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>-<a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>-<a href="#Page_180">180</a>;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">affection, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">as parents, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-<a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>-<a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">companionship of mates, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">coquettish airs, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">courtship, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">defense of nest, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>-<a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>-<a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">excitement when young hatch, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">family government, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">friendly birds shy at nest, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">—habits of male at nest:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">absent, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">brings mate food for young, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">brings material to mate, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">broods, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">builds while female looks on or goes off with other females, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>-<a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">feeds mate, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">feeds young, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">guards mate, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">helps mate build, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">sings while mate builds and broods, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">interval between building and brooding, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">looking for nesting sites, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>-<a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">lordly airs of male, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">paternal instinct, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-<a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">persistence in work, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">reluctance to brood, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">tenderness to young, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">food,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">ants, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">bees, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">carrion, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">cocoons, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">gophers, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">grubs, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">insects, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">lizards and toads, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">pepper berries, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">rats and mice, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">scale, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">seeds, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">snakes, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">spiders, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">worms, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flight, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">friendliness when not disturbed, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-<a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>-<a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legends about, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">local names,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">blue jay, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">burrowing owl, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">bush-tit, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">California towhee, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">neighborly relations, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>-<a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>-<a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>-<a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>-<a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nervousness, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Blackbird, Brewer's, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>-<a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">afraid of a bath, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attacking hawks and owls, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a jolly colony, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">common in valley, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">curiosity about road-runner, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">following plow for grubs, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nervousness at nest, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>-<a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting sites, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pranks, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">repulsing shrike, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ruling dooryard, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Blackbird, Red-winged, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eating grubs in vineyard, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>-<a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">following plow, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting in marsh, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Blackbird, Rusty, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Blackbird, Yellow-headed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in vineyard, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>-<a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on mustard, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Blackbirds, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flocks riding cattle, hogs, and horses, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Bluebird, Mexican, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second nest, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Blue Jay. See <a href="#Jay">Jay</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Blue Squawker. See <a href="#Jay">Jay</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Brown Chippie. See <a href="#Towhee_California">Towhee, California</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Bunting, Indigo, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Bunting, Lazuli, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>-<a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">keeping out of quarrel, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>-<a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>-<a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">taking insects to nest, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">young fed by wren-tit, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Bush-tit" id="Bush-tit"></a>Bush-tit, California, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>-<a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>-<a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">call notes, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">common bird, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">destroys olive scale, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legend of firefly lamps, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">local name, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest roof falls in, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second nest better built, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">snake in nest, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Butcherbird. See <a href="#Shrike">Shrike</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Butterflies, migrating, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +California, southern, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">colors, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">marsh in, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">natural irrigation, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sky, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Canello, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">afraid of boggy land, Mexicans, and rattlesnakes, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>-<a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>-<a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">indifferent to water snakes, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">made nervous by hummingbird, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">miring, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>-<a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">visiting feathered tenants with, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>-<a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Chaparral, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>-<a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Chaparral cock. See <a href="#Road-runner">Road-runner</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Chat, long-tailed, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Chewink. See <a href="#Towhee">Towhee</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Chickadee, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Coast Mountains, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">valley in, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at morning, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in evening, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">under moonlight, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Coyote wolves,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">barking, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">chasing a dog, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in eucalyptus, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Crow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">killed bee-bird, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Dove" id="Dove"></a>Dove, Mourning, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a gentle pair, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">brooding, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">friendliness, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_216"><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads '2'">216</ins></a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">perches, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superior airs of male, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">timidity, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trailing, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Eagle, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Egret, White, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Finch" id="Finch"></a>Finch, Western House, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">avoids shrike neighborhood, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">bathing, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">courtship, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">common birds, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">discussions, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">examining wren's nest, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">implicated in tragedy, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>-<a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting sites, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">songs, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stealing wren's material, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">using swallow's nest, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Flicker, Red-shafted, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>-<a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">notes, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">works as if wound up, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Flowers and Plants,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">blue sage, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">chilicothe, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dodder, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>-<a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'fly flower,' <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">forget-me-not, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mallow, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mustard, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on border of pond, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">poison oak, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'poppy,' <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">primrose, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wild celery, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wild gooseberry, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Flycatcher, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in chaparral, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Fog, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Goldfinch" id="Goldfinch"></a>Goldfinch, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest destroyed, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">note, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Gnatcatcher, Western, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>-<a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>-<a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">calls, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comical parents, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">defending nest, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">egg broken by wren-tit, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eggshell carried away, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding young in new way, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">jaunty nervous manners, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest moved, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">spelling each other, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">talkative, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Gophers, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Grosbeak, Black-headed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">migrants, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>Grosbeak, Blue, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Hangbird. See <a href="#Bush-tit">Bush-tit</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hawk, Buteo, building, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">more likely to eat gophers than birds, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Hawk, Fish, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hawk, Sparrow, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>-<a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">chased by bee-bird, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">snakes for breakfast, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">too small a front door, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>-<a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Hawks, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Heron, Green, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Lark, Horned,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on roadsides, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Horse, as help in observing, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>-<a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>-<a href="#Page_204">204</a>.<br /> +<br /> +How-do-you-do Owl. See <a href="#Owl_Burrowing">Owl, Burrowing</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hummingbird, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hummingbird, Black-chinned, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>-<a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>-<a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>-<a href="#Page_219">219</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">around flowers by house, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attacking horse and rider, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>-<a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">courtship dance, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">enter house, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding from primroses, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding young, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">help in cross-fertilization, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest destroyed, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting sites, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>-<a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>-<a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">perch, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">probing tobacco-tree flowers, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tremulous moulding, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Hummingbird, Rufous, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">around wild gooseberries, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Irrigation, natural, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>-<a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Jay" id="Jay"></a>Jay, California, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>-<a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">disciplining young, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">frightening small birds, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">local name, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">protecting young, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">scream, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tender to young, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Kingbird,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arkansas. See <a href="#Bee-bird">Bee-bird</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cassin's. See <a href="#Bee-bird">Bee-bird</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eastern, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Linnet. See <a href="#Finch">Finch</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Lions, colts killed by, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> +<br /> +List of Birds referred to, <a href="#Page_ix">ix</a>.<br /> +<br /> +List of Illustrations, <a href="#Page_vii">vii</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Lizards, as eggers, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Magpie, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Mexican bridle, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Miring, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>-<a href="#Page_19">19</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Mockingbird, thrasher's resemblance to, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Mountain Billy, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a good lope, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>-<a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a narrow escape, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a petted companion, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">carrying blue gum boughs, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">carrying a chair, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">enjoying blue gum grove, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">frightened by deer, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>-<a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ignoring snakes, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>-<a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">improving his time, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">inventing a fly brush, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rolling, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>-<a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Mutual help in nature, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Nesting season, date in southern California, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Nests, broken up, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, hard work, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building methods, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>-<a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>-<a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-<a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>-<a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">defective building (?), <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">excessive amount of material, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">knothole entrance too small, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">materials of first nest used in second, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>-<a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">moved to safer place, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">odd situations, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">protective coloration, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rapid building, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second, <a href="#Page_48">48</a> (?), <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">snakes in, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">third (?), <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">time taken to build, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">unusual materials, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Observing, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>-<a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">assisting in nest building, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>-<a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>-<a href="#Page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">delight of finding a new bird, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">proportion of birds identified without a gun, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">temptations in, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oden Canyon, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>-<a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>Oregon Robin, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Oriole, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Oriole, Arizona Hooded,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oriole, Bullock's, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attacking an owl, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song flight, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Owl, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>-<a href="#Page_216">216</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">asleep in window, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">diet of rats and mice, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hiding in wells and mining shafts, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Owl, Barn,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">an old crone, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Owl_Burrowing" id="Owl_Burrowing"></a>Owl, Burrowing, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">battles with a collie, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding young, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest not shared with rattlesnakes, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">screws head off, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Owl, Western Horned,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">devices to protect young, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mobbed by neighbors, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Pewee, Wood, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>-<a href="#Page_162">162</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest moved, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">perch, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Phainopepla, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>-<a href="#Page_210">210</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a distinguished bird, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building (done by male), <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eating pepper berries in door-yard, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Phœbe, Black, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>-<a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">brooding under a pump, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in the hen-house, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>-<a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Pipit, American, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Pond, made by spring rains,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rendezvous of birds, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>-<a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Poor-will" id="Poor-will"></a>Poor-will, Dusky,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>-<a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flycatching, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Quail, Valley,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flight of covey, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in chaparral, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in vineyard, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tracks, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Rabbit,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cottontail, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">jack, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>-<a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Road-runner" id="Road-runner"></a>Road-runner, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>-<a href="#Page_101">101</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">around ranch-house, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">drowned in windmill tanks, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eating with hens, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fleetness, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hunting cocoons, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">love call, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Robin, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Shrike" id="Shrike"></a>Shrike, White-rumped, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>-<a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">absence of birds in neighborhood, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>-<a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gentle at nest, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">invading blackbird premises, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>-<a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Snakes,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gopher, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>-<a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">racer, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rattle, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ringed, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">water, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sparrow, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Sparrow, Golden-crowned, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Sparrow, Song, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>-<a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">young, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sparrow, White-crowned, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Squirrels, ground, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Swallow, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Swallow, Eave,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">drinking on wing, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">getting mud for nests, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>-<a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nests on sycamore, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Tanager, Louisiana, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a brilliant stranger, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Thrasher, California, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>-<a href="#Page_164">164</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">digging with sickle-shaped bill, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>-<a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in chaparral, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">straight bills of young, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Titmouse, Plain, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>-<a href="#Page_183">183</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>-<a href="#Page_182">182</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gladly accepts feathers, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">needs no horsehair or straw, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>-<a href="#Page_181">181</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting sites, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Tit, Wren-, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">breaking up gnatcatcher's nest, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">skulking manners, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">usurping a mother's rights, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span><a name="Towhee_California" id="Towhee_California"></a><a name="Towhee" id="Towhee"></a>Towhee, California, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>-<a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call note, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">common and tame, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">shy at nest, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>-<a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Towhee, Green-tailed, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>-<a href="#Page_163">163</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Towhee, Spurred, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">singing, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Trade wind, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>-<a href="#Page_69">69</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Trees,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">acacia, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">elder, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eucalyptus, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>-<a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">character of, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>-<a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>-<a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">grove, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>-<a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">raised for fuel, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">live-oaks, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>-<a href="#Page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">garden of, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>-<a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">sapped by mistletoe, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pepper, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sycamore, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>-<a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">the big, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>-<a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tobacco, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">willow, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Turkey Buzzard. See <a href="#Vulture">Vulture</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Turtle Dove. See <a href="#Dove">Dove</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Twin Oaks Canyon, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>-<a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ughland Canyon, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Vineyard, birds eating grubs in, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>-<a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Vireo, Hutton's, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>-<a href="#Page_146">146</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a devoted pair, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">call note, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fond of nest, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nest, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Vireo, Least,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Vireo, Warbling, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">scolding jay, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Vulture" id="Vulture"></a>Vulture, Turkey, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>-<a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">circle over fighting snakes, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eating woodpecker, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eating skunk, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">queer attitude, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">scavenger, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">soaring, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Warbler, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">migrants, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Waxwing, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Whip-poor-will. See <a href="#Poor-will">Poor-will</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Woodpecker, California, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>-<a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flycatching, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hunting ground distant from nest, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">long intervals in feeding, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">lying in wait for prey, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">notes, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">old birds poisoned (?), <a href="#Page_70">70</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rescuing the young, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>-<a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">young orphans, inherited instincts, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">notes, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Woodpecker, Red-headed, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Wood rat,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in chaparral, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Wren, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>-<a href="#Page_10">10</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Wren, Vigors's, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>-<a href="#Page_174">174</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">linnets quarreling over materials, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting site, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">young buried alive by linnets (?), <a href="#Page_172">172</a>-<a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +Wren, Western House, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>-<a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">building, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">common birds, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feeding young on insects, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nesting takes six weeks, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nests in sycamore holes, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">odd nesting sites, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tremulous motion of wings, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Yellow-bird. See <a href="#Goldfinch">Goldfinch</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Young birds,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bluebird, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brewer's Blackbird, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Burrowing Owl, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>-<a href="#Page_12">12</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bush-tit, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">California Jay, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">California Woodpecker, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>-<a href="#Page_80">80</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">feather tracts, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fed at long intervals, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fed on insects, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">first flights, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>-<a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gnatcatchers, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Horned Owl, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hummingbird, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>-<a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">interest in each other, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lazuli Bunting, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">adopted by wren-tit, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>-<a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mourning Dove, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Owl, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sparrow Hawk, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">subdued on leaving nest, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">time kept in nest, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Titmouse, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>-<a href="#Page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Vigors's Wren, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Western House Wren, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>-<a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> +<h2>INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + +<div> +Bee-birds, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> +Blackbird, Brewer's, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> +Buntings, Lazuli (old and young), <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.<br /> +Bush-tits (birds and nest), <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.<br /> +Bush-tit (nest in oak), <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Chewink, California (head), <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.<br /> +Chewink, Eastern (head), <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.<br /> +Chewink, Green-tailed (head), <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Eucalyptus Avenue, showing pollarded trees, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.<br /> +Eucalyptus Wood stored for Market in a Eucalyptus Grove, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Gnatcatcher, Western (birds and nest), <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> +Grosbeak, Black-headed (head), <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.<br /> +Grosbeak, Rose-breasted (head), <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hummingbird, Black-chinned (nest), <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.<br /> +Hummingbird, Black-chinned (on nest), <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Mountain Billy Deserted, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>.<br /> +Mountain Billy under the Gnatcatcher's Oak, <a href="#frontis">frontispiece</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Oaks, Live, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.<br /> +Oriole, Arizona Hooded (head), <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.<br /> +Oriole, Baltimore, Eastern (head), <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Phainopepla's Nest in Oak Brush, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.<br /> +Phainopeplas on Pepper-tree, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.<br /> +Phœbe, Black (head), <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> +Phœbe, Eastern (head), <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Quail, Valley, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Road-runner, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Sycamores, Along the Line of, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.<br /> +Sycamore, The Big, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Titmouse, Plain (at nest), <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Valley in Coast Mountains, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Woodpecker, California, (head), <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.<br /> +Woodpecker, California (young), <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.<br /> +Woodpecker, Red-headed, Eastern (head), <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.<br /> +Wren-tit, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.<br /> +Wren, Vigors's (at nest), <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.<br /> +Wren, Western House, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.<br /> +Wren, Western House (singing), <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.<br /> +</div> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> In classification and nomenclature this list conforms to the American +Ornithologists' Union 'Check-List of North American Birds,' Second +Edition, 1895. L. S. Foster, New York.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> As this little pair dressed like twins, I could only infer +which was which from the song and the actions of the two, +which were quite distinct.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The difference in the dress of the woodpeckers is so slight +that the sexes were not distinguished at this nest.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Since this paper was written, I have consulted an authority +on nests, who thinks that this nameless bird was probably Hutton's +vireo.</p></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A-Birding on a Bronco, by Florence A. Merriam + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO *** + +***** This file should be named 33410-h.htm or 33410-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/1/33410/ + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Emmy and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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