FOR THE PEOPLE
FOR EDVCATION
FOR SCIENCE
LIBRARY
OF
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM
OF
NATURAL HISTORY
^oofeg bp JFIorcnce 91, fHcrrtam.
BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. In
Riverside Library for Young People. Illustra-
ted. i6mo, 75 cents.
MYSUMMER IN A MORMON VILLAGE. i6mo,
$i.oo.
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. Illustrated.
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HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
Boston and New York.
\-niRl)I\(; ()\ A HRONCO
FLORENCE A. MERRIAM
5^ %-L^
1 do invite you ... to my house .
after, we '11 a-birding together.
Shakespearb.
ILLUSTRATED
j5£rS2
l^fnju^
5:hfUuirrsi0rDrrs!g
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUOHTOX. MIFFLIN .WD COMr.ANV
Cfir fiilicrgibc ^3rr88, <CnmbriboE
1S96
Copyright. 1896,
Bt FLORENCE A. MERRIAM.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge, 3fass., U. S. A.
ElectrotjT)ed and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.
PREFATORY NOTE.
The notes contained In this book were taken
from March to May, 1889, and from March to
Jnly, 1894, at Twin Oaks in southern California.
Twin Oaks is the post-ofiice 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.
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 iden-
tical, and only slight mention is made of the
species, the sexes have sometimes been arbitra-
rily distinguished in the text.
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.
The illustrations are from drawinas of birds
and nests by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, and from
Iv PREFATORY NOTE.
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 Agricul-
ture.
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.
FLOREXCE A. MERRIAM.
Locust Grove, N. Y.,
July 15, 1896.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. Our Valley 1
II. The Little Lover liO
III. Like a Thief in the Night .... ;38
IV. Was it a ISequel ? 48
V. Little Prisoners in the Tower ... 65
VI. Hints by the Way 81
VII. Around our Ranch-house .... 86
VIII. Pocket Makers 103
IX. The Big Sycamore 112
X. Among my Tenants 123
XI. An Unnamed Bird 140
XII. Hummers 147
XIII. In the Shade of the Oaks .... 159
XIV. A Mysterious Tragedy .... 171
XV. How I helped build a Nest .... 175
XVI. In our Neighbor's Door-yard . . . 184
XVII. Which was the Mother Bird ? . . . 181)
XVIII. A PtARE Bird 194
XIX. My Blue Gum Grove 211
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Moimtrtiu Billy under the Gnatcatchers ( )ak . Vrontispiecf
Our Valley 4
Head ot" Black-headed Grosbeak ..... i^
Head of Kose-breasted Grosbeak ..... 8
In Hot Pursuit (Brewer's Blackbird and Bee-birds) . V.\
The Little Lover (Western House Wren) .... 20
A Trying- Moment (Western House AVren) ... 32
Nest of Western Guateatcher ...... 89
Head of California Woodpecker ..... 00
Head of Red-headed Woodpecker (Eastern) ... OH
Jacob and Bairdi visiting- the Old Nest Tree ... 78
Head of Arizona Hooded Oriole ..... 89
Head of Baltimore Oriole (Eastern) .... 89
Head of California Chewink 93
Head of Eastern Chewink 93
Valley Quail and Road-runner ...... 99
Nest of the Bush-tit 104
Pocket Nest in an Oak 108
The Big Sycamore ........ 114
Along the Line of Sycamores ...... 124
Head of Black Plufibe 129
Head of Eastern Phcebe 129
The Little Hummer on her Bow-knot Nest . . . 148
The Swing Nest of the Hummer 157
A Shady Bower 160
Head of Green-tailed Chewink ...... 163
The Nosebag Nest (Vigors's Wren) . 173
The Plain Titmou.se in her Doorway . . 170
Which was the Mother Bird".' (Wren-tit and Lazuli Bunt-
ings) 189
The Phainopeplas on the Pepper-tree .... 194
viii LIST OF ILLUiSTRATIONS.
The Phainopepla's Nest in the Oak Brush Island . . 198
Eucalj'ptus Avenue, showing- Pollarded Trees on the Right 212
Eucalyptus AVood stored for Market in a Eucalyptus Grove 214
Mountain Billy Deserted 220
BIRDS REFERRED TO IN THE TEXT.^
White Egret. Anita egretta.
Green Heron. Ardea virescens anthonyi.
Spotted Sandpiper. Actitis macularia.
Valley Quail. Callipepla calif ornica vallicula.
Mourning- Dove. Zenaidura macroura.
Turkey Vulture. Cathartes aura.
Hawk. Buteo .
Sparrow Hawk. Falco sparverius deserticolus.
American Barn Owl. Strix pratincola.
Western Horned Owl. Bubo virginianus subarcticus.
Burrowing Owl. Speotyta cunicularia hypogaa.
Road-runner. Geococcyx calif or nianus.
California Woodpecker. Melanerpes for?nicivorus bairdi.
Red shafted Flicker. Colaptes cafer.
Dusky Poor-will, Phalcenoptilus nuttalli californicus.
Black-ehiinied Hummingbird. Trochilus alexandri.
Rufous Huniming})ird. Selasphorus rufus.
Arkansas Kingbird. Tyrannus verticalis.
Cassin's Kingbird. Tyrannus vociferans.
Black Ph(jebe. Sayornis nigrescens.
Western Wood Pewee. Contopus richardsonii.
Flycatcher. Empidonax .
Horned Lark. Otocoris alpestri.t chrysolcema.
California Jay. Aphelocoma californira.
American Crow. Corvus americanus.
Yellow-headed Blackbird. Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus.
Red-winged Blackbird. Agelaius pluenicius .
Arizona Hooded Oriole. Icterus curullatus nelsoni.
Bullock's Oriole. Icterus bullocki.
' In clasfiiflc.itiou and nomenclature tliis list conforms to the American
Oniithologist.s' Union 'Check-List of North American Birds,' Second
Edition, 1895. L. S. Foster, New York.
BIRDS REFERRED TO IX TEXT.
Brewer's Blackbird. Scholocophagus cyanocephalus.
Western House Finch. Carpodacus mexicanus frontalis.
Goldfinch. Spinus .
White-crowned bparrow. Zonotrichia lencophrys gambeli (?).
Golden-crowned Sparrow. Zonotrichia coronata.
Heerraan's Song Sparrow. Melospizafasciataheermanni {?).
Spurred Towhee or Chewink. Pipilo maculatus megalonyx.
Green-tailed Towhee. Pipilo chlorurus.
California Towhee. Pipilo fuscus crissalis.
Black-headed Grosbeak. Habia melanocephala.
Western Blue Grosbeak. Guiraca cceruka eurhyncha.
Lazuli Bunting-. Passerina amoeyia.
Louisiana Tanager. Piranga ludoviciana.
Cliff Swallow. Petrockelidon lunifrons.
Phainopejila. PhainopiejAa nitens.
White-runiped Shrike. Lanius ludovicianus excubitorides.
Warbling Vireo. Vireo gilvus {?).
Hutton's Vireo. Vireo huttoni {?).
Least Vireo. Vireo bellii pusillus (?).
Long-tailed Chat. Icteria virens longicauda.
American Pipit. Anthus pensilvanicus.
California Tlu'asher. Harporhynchus redivivus.
Vigors's Wren. Thryothorus bewickii spilurus.
Western House Wren. Troglodytes cedon aztecus.
Plain Titmouse. Parus inornatus.
Wren-tit. Chamaa fasciata.
California Bush-tit. Psaltriparus minimus calif ornicus.
Western Gnateateher. Polioptila ca^rulea obscura.
Varied Thrush or Oregon Robin. Hesperocichla ncevia.
Western Bluebird. Sialia mexicana occidentalis.
A-BIRDING OlSr A BROI^CO.
I.
OUR VALLEY.
" Climb 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 moun-
tains of Mexico. Then he gave me his daughter's
saddle horse to use as long as I was his guest, tliat
I might explore the valley and study its birds to
the best advantao^e. Before comino' to Califor-
nia, 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.
I had no gun, but was armed with opera-glass
and note-book, and had Kidgway'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 soutli, and
2 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 swar-
thy skins. Now he could be ridden bareback by
the little girls, with only a roj^e 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 rijDe experi-
ence 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 ffive me confidence one of the ranchman's sons
said, " Wherever I 've killed a rattlesnake from
OUR VALLEY. 3
him he '11 shy for years ; " and went on to cite lo-
calities where a sudden, violent lurch had nearly
sent him over Canello's head ! What greater
recommendation could I wish ?
If the old horse had had any wayward impulses
left, his Mexican bit would have subdued them.
It would l)e impossible to use such an iron in the
mouth of an eastern horse. They say the Mexi-
cans sometimes break norses' jaw^s with it. From
the middle of the bit, a flat bar of iron, three quar-
ters 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 Enseiiada 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 jny study door, a proud tro-
phy of my western life, and one that is looked upon
with mingled admiration and horror by eastern
horsemen.
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
4 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
movable stake, constantly leading him to new
grazing gronnd ; 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 syca-
mores, 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 role 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 horse-
fly, bobbing the glass out of range just as I was
makino- out the character of the wino'-bars.
From the ranch-house, encircled by live-oaks,
the valley widened out, and was covered with or-
chards 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.
Canello and I had our regular beat, down past
the blooming quince and apricot orchard, along
OUR VALLEY. 5
the brush-covered side of the valley where the mi-
grants 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.
1 liked to start out in the freshness of the morn-
ing, 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, flash-
ing rainbow colors in the sun.
As w^e loped gayly along down the curving road,
a startled quail woidd call out, ''AVho-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 flow-
ers, to disappear in the brush.
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.
This corner of the valley was the mouth of Twin
Oaks Canyon, and was a forest of brush, alive with
6 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 tu-iohip' tu-whip' tii-iohiij' tu-icee'-ah^ com-
ing 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 rinsins: 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 mocking-
bird, made him always a marked figure.
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, stand-
ing on the top of a bush as he shouted out boister-
ously, lick'-it-now, kick'-it-7ww, sJnit'-iq) s7mt'-iq),
dor'-a-thy dor'-a-thy ; or, calling a halt in his mad
rhapsody, slowly drawled out, tchoa'-7ioio, lohoa'-
now. After listening to such a tirade as this, it
OUR VALLEY. 7
was pleasant to come to an opening- in tlie hrnsh
and find a band of gentle yellow-birds leaning
over the blossoms of the white forget-me-nots.
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 pugna-
cious little warriors. I suppose we were tread-
ing 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 Ganello 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.
In the midst of the brush corner were a num-
ber of pretty round oaks, in one of which the
warblers gathered. My favorite tree was in blos-
som 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 un-
mindful of the busy warblers that flitted about
the branches, darting up for insects or chasing-
do vvn by his nose after falling millers.
One morning the ranchman's little girl rode
8
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
over to school beliind me on Canello, pillion fash-
As we pushed through the brush and into
ion.
the opening by the schoolhouse, scattered over
the o'rass sat a flock of handsome black-headed
grosbeaks, the western representative of the east-
ern rose-breast, looking, in the sun, almost as red
Black-headed Grosbeak.
(Cue half natural size.)
Rose-breasted Grosbeak.
(One half natural size.)
as robins. They had probably come from the
south the night before. As we watched, they dis-
persed and sang sweetly in the oaks and brush.
In the o'iant 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
uLU VALLF.Y. 9
one of hor littk' birds lay dead at the foot of tlie
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.
It was pleasant to leave the road to ride out un-
der 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 housekeep-
insr. One mornino- I discovered a bit of a wren
under an oak witli 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 yellow-
ish 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 q^^^ 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 \Yould have made a pretty i)icture 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 oft' to think the
10 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
matter over, and, encouraged j^erhaps by my
whistle, came back and hopped down into the
little nest.
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 fam-
ilies you are watching that you feel as if their
troubles were yours, and are haunted by the fear
that they will think jon have something to do
with their accidents. They had taken me on pro-
bation at first, and at last had come to trust me
— and then to imagine that I could deceive them
and do the harm myself !
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.
One of our most interesting birds nested in
OUR VALLEY. 11
boles in the open uncultivated fields down the
valley, — the burrowing owl, known jiopularly,
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 sit-
ting:. 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.
One of our neighbors milked his cow^s out in a
field where the burrowing owls had a nest, and
he told me that his collie had nightly battles wdtli
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 peo-
pled with ground squirrels and owls. The squir-
rels 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, match-
ing 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
12 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 I 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 possibil-
ity 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.
When Canello and I faced home on our daily
circuit of the valley, we often found the vinej^ard
well peopled. In April, when it w^as being culti-
vated, there was a busy scene. All the black-
birds of the neisfhborhood — both Brewer's and
OUR VALLEY.
13
redwings — assembled to pick u}) grubs from the
soft earth. A squad of them followed close at
the ])lowman'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
l)h
'r^'r^; :- :. - -^^^W^
Ill Hut Pursuit.
(Brewer's Blackbird and Bee-birds.)
overlooking the flock ; and when one of the black-
birds 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.
One day in riding by the vineyard, to my sur-
prise and delight 1 saw one of the handsome yel-
14 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
low-headed 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.
The son of the ranchman told me an interest-
ing thing about the ordijiary 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.
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
OUR VALLEY. 15
our feathered neighbors — how they must hiive
wished it wouhl hist all through the hot suuiiner
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. 1 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.
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 spark-
ling. Along the margin of the w^ater was a bor-
der 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 l)irds ; while away to the south a
line of dark Ijlue undulating hills was crowned by
the peak from which we had looked off on the
mountains of ^lexico. The air was ringing with
songs, the sycamores were noisy with the chatter
of l)lackbirds and bee-birds, and the bushes were
full of sparrows.
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 ui) afterwards.
16 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
lighted there to whip the water out of their fea-
thers 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 spar-
rows came and bathed in adjoining pools. AVhen
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 Califor-
nia ! 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.
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.
Swallows came to the pond to get mud for their
nests. A long line of them would light on the
OUR VALLEY. 17
edge of the water, and then, as if afraid of wet-
ting their feet, would hold themselves up by flut-
tering 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.
One day I had a genuine excitement in seeing
a snow-white egret jDerched on a bush by the
water. I rode home full of the beautiful sight,
but alas, my story was the signal for the ranch-
man'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.
Canello was so afraid of miring in the soft
ground that it was hard to get him across
some places that seemed quite innocent. lie
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 sugges-
18 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
tions in such matters. This time he was de-
ceived himself. AYe 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 Ca-
nello 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. Eattlesnakes or miring — it was
surely one or the other ! When I felt myself sink-
ing, 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 mo-
ment thinking it might not hold me ; but it bore
well. Seizing the bridle with one hand and swing-
ing the quirt with the other, I shouted encourage-
ment to Canello, and, straining and struggling, he
finally wrenched himself out and stepped on terra
■firma — I never appreciated the force of that ex-
pression before ! The poor horse was trembling
and exhausted when I led him up to high ground
OUR VALLEY. 10
to reniount, and neitlier of us had any desire to
explore boggy lands after that.
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 sun-
shine ; 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 mus-
tard ; 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.
II.
THE LITTLE LOVER.
Ox my sec-
ond visit to Cal-
ifornia, I spent
the winter in
the Santa Clara
valley, riding
among the foot-
hills of the San-
ta Cruz Moun-
tains, where
flocks of Oregon
robins were rest-
ing from the
labors of the
summer and passing the time until they could
fly home again : l)ut 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.
The Little Lover.
(Western House AVren.)
THE LITTLE LOVER. 21
I went down early in ^Slareli, 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
coining- 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 Ijefore. 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 dis-
appeared, 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
son"; — ycllowbirds, linnets, che winks, 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.
22 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 canj^on. While they
were gone, I took the opportunity to inspect the
tree, and found a large hole with twigs sticking
out suggestivel}^ Present^, back flew one of the
wrens with more building material. But this line
of sj^camores was off from the highway, and the
bird was not used to prying equestrians ; so when
she found jNIountain 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 flittino- off asfain. 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.
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
THE LITTLE LO^'ER. 23
p^lanciiig up, behold, ii noldfincli walked down a
braiudi and seated herself in a round eup ! 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 ton feet away I
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 tlie world. Fors^ettino-
the little lover and his mate, I sat still and watched
this small household.
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 lier neck over
till her long bill stood up perpendicularly, when
she put it gently into the gaping bills of her young ;
the smallest of l)ills, not more than an eighth of
an inch long, I should judge. I never saw^ hum-
mingbirds 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.
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 com-
fortably to rest, apparently ignoring the fact that
Billy was grazing close beside her. She may
have had her (jualms, but no mother bird would
leave her tender young uncovered on such a cold
moi-iilni;'.
24 A-BIRDiNG ON A EBON CO.
While she was on the nest, there was an ap-
proaching whirr, followed by a retreating buzz —
had the father bird started to come to the nest
and fled at sight of me ? Remembering the evi-
dence 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.
Two days later I carefully touched the tip of
my finger to the back of one of the tiny humming-
birds, — 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 perform^ince. 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.
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
THE LITTLE LOVER. 25
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.
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. AVhen 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 curios-
ity— 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 w^nt
oft' 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 u]) his position in
front of his door sano* out loudly, with winos
hanging and a general air of, "This is nnj house,
I'd have you understand I "
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
26 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
nest in my presence, bnt 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 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.
But what with horses grazing under her win-
dows 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.
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 iny
pains, as far as wrens were concerned.
One day when she did not come, I thought it
was a good chance to get a . study of the hum-
mingbird'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 tat-
tered nest and tied it up in a corner of my hand-
kerchief ; for it was all that was left of the little
home built with such exquisite care and brooded
over so tenderly.
THE LITTLE LOVEll. 27
The yellowl)ii'(rs nest caiiie to an untimely end,
too, altliou<;li its start was sueh a ])riglit one. It
was a ilisapi)ointnient, for the goklfinehes are such
trustful birds and so aft'eetionate 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 anx-
iously 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.
AVe 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 in-
side an old charred stump up the canyon. Occa-
sionally 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 w^as a keen pleasure. Lazuli buntings, rel-
atives 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
28 A-BTRDING ON A BRONCO.
pair of busli-tlts, 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.
One day, when watching at the tree, a great
brown and black lizard that the children of the
valley call the ' Jerusalem overtaker ' came
wormiug 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 dan-
gerous to say what they cannot do.
Billy had a surprise one day greater than mine
THE LirrLE LUVEli. 29
over the lizard. He was grazing quietly near
where I sat under the wren tree, when lie sud-
denly threw up his head. Ilis ears pointed for-
ward, his eyes grew excited, and as he gazed his
head rose higher and higher. 1 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 I 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.
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. AVe were too late to see the deer again,
but found the marks of its hoofs where it had
jumped a ditch and sunk so dee]) in the fine sand
on the other side that it had to take a great leap
to recover itself.
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 w^ith eyes glued to the
si)ot where it had api)eared, and when a jack-rab-
bit came out of the brush with his long ears u]),
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
30 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
own satisfaction at least. His name was Moun-
tain 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. ]\lountain lions are large
fawn-colored animals : that was it : Mountain
Billy was suffering from an acute attack of asso-
ciation of ideas. The sight of the deer had awak-
ened memories of the nightmare of his colthood
days.
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.
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 after-
wards. Often w^hen 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 shak-
ing at his sides, at others raised till they almost
met over his back, trembling with the excitement
of his joy. This peculiar trenmlous motion of the
wings was marked in both wrens ; their emotions
seemed too large for their small bodies.
I found the wrens building, the last of Aj^ril.
rilE LITTLE LOVER. 31
The "third week in May the little lover was sinji-
iiig as hard as ever. 1 wrote in my note-book —
'' Wrens do not take life with proper serious-
ness, 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
miii'lit brood the e<>os in her absence.
When the young hatched, however, affairs took
a more serious turn. Mother wren at least was
kept busy looking for spiders, and later, w^hen
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
wTeds 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.
On June 7 I noticed a remarkable thing. For
more than Ave 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 nuite — as
if life were all ' a-courtin'.' On this day he flrst
came to the tree with food, sang out for his spouse,
gave her the morsel, and flew ofl'. Later in the
32
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
morning he brought food and his mate carried it to
the young. But afterwards, when she started to
take a morsel from him, behold I he — the gay, friv-
olous little beau,
the minstrel lover
— actually acted as
if he did n'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 I But he was
too fond of her to
even seem to refuse
her anything, and
so, coming back,
gave her the mor-
sel. She proba-
bly divined his
thought, and, let
A Trying Moment. ^^g 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
THE LITTLE LOVER. 83
altliough she Hrst lit above him and came down
toward him with bill wdde open and wings flutter-
ing in the pretty, helpless, coquettish way female
birds often tease to be fed ; suddenly, as if re-
membering, she flew off, and — he went in to the
nest himself I It was a conquest ; the little lover
was not altogether lacking in the paternal in-
stinct after all I I looked at him with new
respect.
On June 12 I wrote : " The wrens seem to have
settled down to business." It was delighful to
find the small father actually taking turns feed-
ing the young. I saw him feed his mate only
once or twice, and noticed much less of the quiver-
ing 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 moutlis full of s})iders,
as any mother bird can tell. This i)articular
mother wren, however, seemed to enjoy her cares.
She often called to tlie young from a branch in
front of the nest before going in, and stoi)i)ed to
call back to them with a motherly-sounding hnip-
up-up as she stood in the entrance on leaving*.
34 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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.
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 grow-
ing more and more fidgety under my gaze, darting-
inside, then whisking back to the door to look at
me, in acfain 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
THE LITTLE LOVER. 35
should pop out of the liole iu the tree trunk when
I was below to cateh them.
On this (lay, 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. Tlie
old wren's calls made me think of a human mo-
ther 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, do be good chil-
dren, do keep still ; do put your heads back : you
naughty children, you must do as I tell you! "
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."
The young were chattering inside the nest.
They all talked at once as children will, but one
small voice assumed the tones of tlie mother :
probably the oldest brother speaking with tlie air
of authority featherless children sometimes assume
with the weaker members of the family. When a
])arent came, I saw the big brother's head pop up
from behind the wall, — the nest was in a pocket
below, — and l>y the time the old bird i;ot there
36 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
As nothing happened, I went oft' to watch an-
other nest, but in an hour w^as back to make sure
of seeing the small wrens when they left the
nest. A loud continuous scolding met me on ap-
proaching, and one of the old w^rens, with bill full
of insects, flew — not up to the nest — but down
in among the w^eeds ! 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 I
was taken aback. The}^ had stolen a march on
me. Surely I had not been treated as was fit
and proi^er, being one of the family !
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.
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 recog-
nized their weak appealing voices, after the sten-
torian tones that had issued from the old nest.
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 follow^ed too close on their heels. The
THE LITTLE LOVER. 37
youngsters sometimes appeared on the stalks, and
looked very pert on their long legs with their
short tails cocked over their backs.
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.
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 de-
serted 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.
III.
LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT.
When 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 remem-
bered 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 sjDared by the other bird families we were
watching, we set out to hunt up the little bluish
gray western gnatcatchers.
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 disrespect-
ful 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.
We had not gone far before we heard the gnat-
catchers, bluish gray mites with heads that are
LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT.
39
Nest of Western Gnatcateher.
(From a photograph.)
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, slippini;- 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
40 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
relief I 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 im-
agination I had followed the brood out into the
world and filled a note-book with the quaint airs
and graces of the piquant pair.
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 broodino' rio'ht over mv 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 !
The next day, forgetful of this second nest, I
rode Billy right up under the oak, and was star-
tled 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
LIKE A THIEF IX THE NIGHT. 41
upper branch of the tree. What a contrast she
was to the quiet dove I 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. ^
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 be-
cause she had discovered me, back she came, talk-
ing 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 !
My doves were attending to me, however, alto-
gether too much. The brooding bird was anxious
to go to her nest. After flying out where she
^ As this little pair dressed like twins, 1 could only infer
which was which from the soug- aud the actions of the two,
which were quite disthict.
42 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
could see me, she whizzed toward it ; but, fear-
ful, hesitated and talked it over with her mate
— both birds cooed with inflated breaths. After
that the branches rattled overhead, l)ut even then,
though my back was turned, the timid bird dared
not stay. She must make another insjjection.
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 gnatcatch-
ers 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.
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 w^as 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 lad^^-like bird,
after the flippant tell-all-j^ou-know little gnat.
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
LIKE A THIEF IX THE NIGHT. 43
tlin)u<;li the ehai)iirral, bi'iisliing me against tlie
the stift' scrub oak and loping under low branches
so fast that the sharp leaves snapped back, sting-
ing 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.
At our next session with the blue-grays, when
she was on the nest, her mate came back to re-
lieve her and cried in his quick cheerful way,
" Here I am, here I am ! " Either she was tak-
ing a nap or did n't want to stir, for she did n't
budge till he called insistently, " Here I am, here
I am I " 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 ! "
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 ! "
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 sto])ped a
lon<j^ time on the edgfe of the nest and leaned
44 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
over, presumably to arrange the eggs ; perhaps
she and her mate had dift'erenf 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 w^ere singing merrily, and
light-hearted vireos were shouting chick-a-de-
ckich^ -de-vUlet' from the brush. How much pleas-
anter it would be for such an airy fairy to go off
for a race with her mate than to settle down de-
murely tucked into a cup ! '^ Tsang," she cried
impatiently as she flew ujd to catch a fly. She
flirted about the branches, whipped up in front of
the nest, could n't make up her mind to go in,
and flounced off again. But the eggs would get
cold if she did n'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 I
During the morning when she was away and
her mate was waitins; 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 ! "
LIKE A THIEF LX THE NKjlIT. 45
His restless si)oiise 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 exeuse to leave
her brooding. Calling out " tsang," she again
flew at the brown bird who was lioi)ping around
in the bush, so innocently, as I thought. Con-
queror for the moment, she flaunted back to the
nest, and after much ado finally settled down.
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 wdth languid interest till he
got to the giiat'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 foot-
ing 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.
A peaceful lazuli bunting, hearing the coiumo-
•46 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
tion, came to investigate, but when she saw what
was happening hekl 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.
When the wren-tit had at last been driven from
his position, the gnateatchers 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 wdiich
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 dis-
tress that were pitiful to hear. I felt indignant
at the wren-tit. How could a bird wdth eggs of
its own do such a cruel thing ? But then, I re-
flected, we who pretend to be better folks than
wren-tits do not always spare our neighbors be-
cause 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 horse-hair and what looked like
a feather, apparently trying to take out every-
thing that the q^^ had soiled.
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
LIKE A THIEF IX THE MdllT. 47
big peaceful bird, she fiew to tlie next tr«,'e with-
out a word — she evidently knew friends from
enemies. I never liked the towliee so well before.
But though the blue-gray had nothing to say
against her neighbor sitting np in the tree if he
chose, her nerves were so unstrnng 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.
AVhether 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 neigh l)()r'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.
^My poor dove's nest had a tragic end, too.
What hapi)ened 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.
IV.
WAS IT A SEQUEL ?
Aftek the wren-tit stole in like a thief in the
night and broke up the pretty home of the gnat-
catchers, I snspected that they took their house
down to put it wp 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 fol-
lowing their calls finally discovered them flying-
back and forth to a high branch on an old oak-
tree : both little birds working and talking to-
gether. Mind, I do not stake my word on this
being the same pair of gnats ; but the nest fol-
lowed closely on the heels of the plundered or^e,
which was a point in its favor, and, being anx-
ious 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 groimd — so high that it was necessary
WAS IT A SEQUELS 49
to keep an opera-glass focused on the spot to see
what was going on at their small cup.
As the birds worked, I was filled with forebod-
ings 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 multi-
tude of e\dl intentions, and which made me sus-
pect 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 build-
ers keep as still at the nest as brooding birds,
instead of heedlessly giving information to ob-
servers that lurk about taking notes for future
misdeeds ? But then, could gnatcatchers keep
still anywhere at any time ? Xo, that was not to
be hoped for. I could only watch the little chat-
terers from hour to hour and be thankful for
every day that their home was unmolested.
It was interesting to see how the jaunty indif-
ferent 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
50 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 Aisually got in-
side 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.
At first they seemed to take turns at building,
working rapidly and changing places quite regu-
larly ; 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, hesi-
tated, and backed away ; then unwilling to give
up having a finger in the j^ie, advanced again.
This was kept up till the little bird put its pride
in its pocket, and gentl}^ gave over its cherished
bit of material to its mate at the nest !
WAS IT A SEQUEL? 51
Now as these gnatcateliers 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 doubt-
less wanted to decorate as she went along, and
men are n't supposed to know anything about
such trivial matters I On the other hand, it might
easily be he, for, supposing he had come of a fam-
ily of superior builders, surely he would want to
see to the lavino' of substantial walls : and un-
questionably a good wall was the important part
of this nest. Alas I 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 I — then, at least, I would know
which was doing what, or if it was doing what it
had n't done before ! It is inconsiderate enouo-h
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 l)reak the camel's back. If
small gray gnatcateliers up in the treetops had
only been l)ig black magpies low in the brusli, my
testimony regarding their ])erforman('es might be
of more value ; but then, the magpies of my ac-
quaintance were so shy they would have none of
52 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
me ; so although life and field ^\o^k are full of dis-
appointments, they are also full of compensations.
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 reluc-
tantly 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 bijds' 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.
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 sud-
denly stopped to look back at the nest as if to
think what she wanted to get next ; or, perhaps,
WAS FT A SEQUEL f 53
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 tliat was to hold her little brood. Another
time one of the gnats, — I was sure this was he, —
ha\4ng driven off an enenw, 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, filterins: through the o-reen leaves over their
" o o o
heads, touched them gently as they lingered near
their home.
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.
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 could n'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 won-
derfully compact solid walls of the nest ; a little
at a time, and that drilled in to stay.
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.
54 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
and with jaunty twists and turns hopped about on
the dead limbs, giving hurried jabs at the cob-
webs 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 whip-
ping 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.
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.
As the nest went up, the leaves hid it ; but I
could still see the small wrings 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
myseK, till haj^pening to remember that it re-
quired giiatcatcher tools.
Ornithologists are discoui^ging people to wait
for, and Mountain Billy got so restless under the
gnat tree that he had to invent a new fly-brush
WAS FT A SEQJ'EL ? 55
for liiinsc'lf. On one side of the oak the branches
hnng 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 ave-
nues. Afterwards I caught sight of a gray ani-
mal, probably a wood rat, running down a branch
behind me, and heard queer muffled sounds of
gnawing.
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. lie 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 him-
self 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 stealincr
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 liad
left the ])remises and wormed his wav off through
56 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
When first suspecting a house on the north side
of the tree, I moved my chair over there. Pres-
ently 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 scrutinizingiy. 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 be-
times, and keeping off friends or enemies who
came too near. When the young hatched I no-
ticed 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
WAS IT A SEQUEL f 57
sun, or walked carefully over the branches looking
for food for the young. Some days before find-
ing 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' ])ewee flew up in the tree, sat down on a
horizontal crotch, and w^ent through the motions
of moulding.
Tliere 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 twio', lookino; from below like a "ood sized
bumblebee as he preened his feathers" and looked
off upon the world below. At the other side of
the oak a pretty j^ink 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 ol)ject to brown chij)-
pies, but perhaps, if this were the same pair, they
had been made suspicious by their trouble. In
any case, when a brown ('liip])ie 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
58 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
nail, and when lie hid nnder the leaves where they
oonld 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 ex-
pulsion ; the gnats did not utter a word during
the whole affair I I had never known them to be
silent before when anything was going on — rarely
when there wasn't.
Another morning when I rode in there was a
great commotion up in the oak. A chorus of
small scoldii?g voices, and a fluttering of little
wings among the branches told that something
w^as wrong, while a large form moving deliber-
ately 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 there-
upon 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 ich' from the treetop, but
H.l.s IT A SEQUEL i 59
thought he W better not meddle ; and — it wiis
a pair of wren-tits who looked out from a brusli
screen and then skulked off, chuckling to them-
selves, I dare say, that some one else was up to
tlieir tricks. It gave my faith in birds a great
sliock, 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.
Where did the Q^g — 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.
After that, things went on quietly for several
days. The gnats got through with their build-
ing, 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 him-
self near me one day ; but when he saw it was
only I, whipped his tail and exclaimed ''0/', it's
you'. I'm' not (if raid''
This peace and quietness, however, did not last.
The gnats' house was evidently haunted, and they
did not like — blue — ghosts. One morning when
60 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
I got to the oak it was all in a hubbub, and the
vireo was scolding loudl}^ at a blue jay. When
the giant pitched into the brush the w ren-tit chat-
tered, and I thought perhaps the ]^f 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 I 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 watch-
ing a gnatcatcher build — had been spent in vain
on this nest ; and if, as suspected, this was tlieir
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 uj) alread3^
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 jjewee 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 float-
ing population, moved to pastures new. Hanging
my chair on the saddle, I made Billy carry it
WAS IT A SEQUEL / Gl
for me ; then 1 buckled the reins around the
trunk of the oak and witlidrew into the hrush 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 chap-
arral was a pleasant place to sit in, 2)rotected as it
was from the Avind, with the sun only coming in
enough to touch up the brown leaves on the ground
and warm the fragrant sage, bringing out its de-
licious spicy aromatic smell.
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 ^^ee-rf^e. To be
sure, when it had gone to the nest and I was in-
considerate 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 spec-
tators.
The gnat's nest here was so much lower than
the other one that it was much easier to watch.
The first day the l)irds ])uilt 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
62 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
sight of him, stopped short, and much to my
amusement conckided to sit down and preen his
feathers ! The pewee had one sj^ecial 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.
When the gnats got to brooding, many of the
same i3retty 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 wander-
ing around in the sunny green treetop, called out
in sweet tones, " Good-by, good-by."*
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 in-
terest in the bird and its affairs, for the wren-tit
was really a most original bird, and one I was
especially anxious to study.
My newly awakened interest was not chilled by
any second tragedy ; all went well with the little
WAS IT A SEQriEL f 08
blue-nniys. The day the gnat's eggs liatclied,
the old folks ])erforiiied most ludicrously. Per-
haps 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, squirm-
ing, big-eyeballed prodigies with mingled emo-
tions. It looked very much as if they were sur-
prised 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.
They began feeding the nestlings in the most
remarkable way I had ever witnessed. AVhen 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 back-
wards into the bills of the young under her
breast ! Even when the gnats got to feeding
64 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 w^ould have thought the young-
parents had been playing house before, and
their dolls had suddenly turned into live hungry
nestlings.
I watched this family till the house was de-
serted, and I had to ride along a line of brush
before finding them. The young were now
pretty silvery-breasted creatures who sat uj^ in a
small oak while the old birds hunted through the
brush for food for them. Though I rode Bill}^
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.
V.
LITTLE PRISONERS IN THE TOWER.
I HAD not spent many days in The Little
Lover's dooryard before realizing that there was
something- in the wind. If an inoffensive per-
son fancies sitting in the shade o£ a sycamore
with her horse grazing qnietly 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 — per-
son'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 hav-
ing 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
66
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
had been rented by a
pair of well-meaning
but suspicious Califor-
nia woodpeckers, first
cousins of the eastern
red-heads.
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 Red-headed Woodpecker —
threw myself down on Eastern.
the warm sand in the (One half uatural size.)
California ^Yoodpecker.
(One half natural size.)
LITTLE PnLSOXKRS IX THE TOWER. 67
bed of the dry stream, between liioli hedges of
exquisite lemon-colored mustard. Patient wait-
ing 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
coidd have stayed on forevei-. 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.
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." ^ 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
moutli of the nest. She was a little nervous. She
poked in her l)ill, drew it back : ])ut in her head,
drew tliat back ; then swung her body partlv in :
but finally the tip of her tail disapi)eared down
the hole.
' The difference in the dress of the woodpeckers is so slight
tliat the sexes were not distinfruisliod at this nest.
68 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
The next morning, in riding b3% I heard weak
voices from the woodpecker mansion. If young
were to be fed, I must be on hand. Such luxu-
rious observing I Riding Mountain Billy out
into the meadow, I dismounted, and settled my-
self comfortably against a haycock with the bridle
over my arm. It was a beautiful quiet morning.
The niolit fos; had melted back and the moun-
tains 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 morn-
ino: sun liohtino- their white trunks and frame-
work. The songs of birds filled the air, and the
straw-colored field dotted with haycocks lay sun-
ning 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 slum-
bering. 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 be-
LITTLE PRISONERS IN THE TOWER. 60
gau to nod, and the sycamore branches eomnieneed
to sway. Then the breeze swelled stronger, coming
cool and fresh from the ocean ; the yellow prim-
roses, aronnd which the hummingbirds whirred,
bowed on their stately stalks, and I could hear the
wind in the moving treetops.
^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 proi)erty 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 wdth the woodpeckers, a sound of
munching arose from behind my back.
The woodpeckers talked and acted very much
like their cousins, the red-heads of the East.
When they went to the nest they called chuch^-ah
as if to wake the young, flying aw^ay with the
familiar rattling kit-er' r'r'r' . 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.
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
70 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
went out to mount Billy, I was shocked to find tlie
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 man}^ hours afterward, wdien I looked out
of the wdndow, 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 the}^ would do, and
after craning their long red necks at me and stalk-
ing around nervously a few moments they flew o£P.
Now what would become of the small birds im-
prisoned 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 chuck'-ah as much like the
old birds as possible. There was an instant an-
swer from a strong rattling voice and a weak pip-
ing 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 w^e could rescue the little prisoners.
LITTLE PRISONERS IN THE TOWER. 71
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 oft'. 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 regu-
lar beat, from tree to tree I To be sure, gopher
snakes are harudess, but they are suggestive, and
you would rather their ways were not your ways.
Although the little prisoners welcomed us as
rescuers should be welcomed, they did it by mis-
take. They thought we were their parents. At
the first blow of the axe tlieir voices hushed, and
not a sound came from them again. It seemed as
if we never should get the birds out.
It looked easy enough, but it was n'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
72 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
As his fingers went down the hole, the young-
birds grabbed them, j^robably 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 en-
larged 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 morn-
ing ; but the rescuer exclaimed resolutely, " We 11
get them out to-night ! " and hurried off to the
ranch-house for a step-ladder and axe.
The ladder did not reach up to the first knot-
hole, 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.
LITTLE PRISONERS IX THE TOWER. 73
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
hud glanced off, striking the head of the boy who
was watching below. I stood from under as he
finished his story, and inquired w^ith interest if he
were sure his axe head was tight I 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 ipiail calling from
the vineyard. When he went u]) 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.
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 I " lie exclaimed. '' I don't know as
I can reach them now. They 've gone to the bot-
tom, they 're so afraid.'' Nearly a foot down he
had to squeeze, but at last got hold of one bird
and brought it out. '* Dro}) him down," I cried,
'' I '11 catch liim," and held up my hands. The
little bird came fluttering through the air. The
second bird clung frightened to the boy's coat, but
74 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
lie loosened its claws and dropped it down to me.
AYliat would tlie poor old mother woodpecker
have thought had she seen these first flights of
her nestlings I
I hurried the little scared brothers under my
jacket, my best substitute for a hollow tree, and
called chnck'-ah to them in the most w^oodpecker-
like tones I could muster. Then the boy shoul-
dered the ladder, and I took the carving-knife,
and we trudged home triumphant ; we had res-
cued the little prisoners from the tower !
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 un-
derstood 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.
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 wdth a
towel over it, they heard all that was going on.
Their voices were as sharp as their ears, and they
LITTLE PRISONERS IN THE TOWER. 75
screamed at me so imperatively that I hiuriecl out
to the kitchen and rummaged through the cup-
boards till I found some food for them. They
opened their bills and gulped it down as if starv-
ing, although their guardian told me afterwards
that she had fed them two or three hours before.
When held up where the air could blow on
them, they grew excited ; and one of them Hew
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.
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 Melanerpes formicivorous
hairdi — the name the ornithologists had given
them.
Jacob and Bairdi each had ways of his own.
When oft'ered 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
76 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 !
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 w^hat 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.
I often went up to the ranch to visit them. We
would take them out under a big spreading oak
beside the house, wdiere the little girl's mother sat
with her sewing, and then watch the birds as w^e
talked. When we put them on the tree trunk,
at first they did not know wdiat to do, but soon
they scrambled up on the branches so fast their
guardian had to climb up after them for fear they
w^ould 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, w^as 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
LITTLE PUISOXKIIS IX THE TOWEH. 11
there fluft'ed ii]) against its sides with the sun
shmting- across, lighting- up his pretty red cap.
He looked so contented and hap])y it was a pleas-
ure to watch him. Another time he started to
climb up on top of my head and, 1 dare say, was
surprised and disappointed when what he had
taken for a tree trunk came to an untimely end.
When we i)ut the brothers on the grass, one of
them went over the ground with long hops, while
the other hid under the rockino-chair. One bird
seemed possessed to sit on the white apron w^orn
by the little girl's mother, flying over to it from
my lap, again and again.
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, fasten-
in"- his claws in the silk, cluno- with his head
in the dark folds as if he liked the shade. I cov-
ered 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 drop2)ed on my breast and he went
fast asleep, and would have had a good nap if
Jacob had not called and waked him up.
Jacob im})roved so much after the first few-
days — and some doses of red pepper — tliat we
had to look twice to tell him from his sturdy l)r()-
thcr. He certainly ate enoujih to make him iirow.
78 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
The birds liked best to be fed with a spoon ; jirob-
ably 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
supi^ly their wants, they would have suffered
sorely, poor little orphans I 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.
AVlien 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 cr}^ 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 chudd-ah and rattled like the
old birds.
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
uj) like a bristle, when he would answer Bairdi in
a loud manly voice.
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
JA( f)H AMI I'.AIKIU VlslII\(. 1 1 1 !•; ol.l) NKST IKICK
LITTLE PRISOXKRS LN THE TOWER. 79
away vigorously upon tlieir plumes. It was com-
ical 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.
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 appoint-
ment. 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 uj), 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 would n't listen to it, being thankful to
have gotten them out once.
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.
80 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Soon the pliotograi^her 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 break-
fast just before starting, and they were too sleej^y
to move much. In the picture, Jacob is clinging
to the boy's hand in his favorite w^ay, and Bairdi
is on the tree trunk.
Mountain Billy pricked up his ears when he
discovered the w^oodpeckers 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 w^ell that they would soon be able to
care for themselves, as their fathers had done
before them. And when they w^ere 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 neigh-
boring oak, and may have been just w^aiting 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.
VI.
HINTS BY THE WAY.
On our way back and forth along the line of
oaks and sycamores belonging to the little pris-
oners, the little lover, and the gnatcatehers,
Mountain Billy and I got a good many hints, he
of places to graze, and I of new nests to watch.
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 bunt-
ing, 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 col-
lected his wits enough to fly off, instead of the
careless gay flight with which he had come out
through the o})en air, he timidly kept low within
the cockle held, making a circuitous way through
the high stalks.
He could be afraid of me if he liked, I thought,
— for after a certain amount of suspicion an in-
82 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
nocent 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.
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.
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 en-
counter with the father lazuli, I found him look-
ing 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 shoul-
der and had the satisfaction of seeing him take
his beakful to the nest. You could n't help admir-
HINTS BY THE WAV. 83
ing him, for though not a warrior who would
snap his hill 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.
While watching the lazulis from the sycamores,
on looking up on a level with Billy's ears, I dis-
covered 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 pro-
tecting 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 be-
tween 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
tlian all the birds of C/alifornia. 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.
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 uninterest-
ing. Again I came, and this time the father
84 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 be-
tween the stalks of the oats and the yellow mus-
tard, 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.
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, be-
cause 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.
To be sure, they were imperative in their com-
f//.V7-.S' /;}' THE WAY. 85
maiids. 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 I " with such a ring of command that an un-
broken hush followed. Moreover, when one child,
probably a greedy one, teased for food, its par-
ent 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.
VII.
AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE.
Close up under the hills, the old vine-covered
ranch-house stood within a circle of great sjjread-
ing 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 scold-
ing: till the intruders beat an humble retreat.
But the blackbirds were not always the aggress-
ors. 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.
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
AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE. 87
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 aston-
ishingly timid. One could hardly understand it
in them.
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 w^'ilk
down the branch over our heads, stopped short
of the nest when her eye fell on us. She shook
her tail and called cJiach^ and her mate, who sat
near, opened wide his bill and whistled chee.
The small birds were hungry and grew im-
patient, 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 sum-
mons, 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
l)ir(l 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
88 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
and round, spreading her tail fan-fashion, as if
distracted.
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 Avas 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 I
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
, 1 li oi \\j) oi n It A xcn-HousE.
89
about tlie Howers in fronts of the windows so
niiieli that when the front door was left open
they often came into the room.
In an oak behind the barn I found a hummino-
o
bird's nest, and, yielding- to temi)tation, took out
the eggs to look at them. In i)utting them back
one slii)ped and dropped on the hard ground,
cracking the delicate pink shell as it fell. The
<ig^ was nearly ready to hatch, and I felt as guilty
as if having killed a hummingbird.
AYhen 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 liad found a
good substitute in the
orange-colored para-
sitic vine of the mead-
ows known among Baltin.oiv Oriole - Eastern.
the people of the Val- (Oue hulI natural size.)
Arizona Hooded Oriole.
(Oue half natural size.)
90 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
ley as the ' love-vine '» (dodder). The whole pocket
was composed of it, making a very gaudy nest.
Linnets nested in the same old tre^. 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 beau-
tiful California spring, it sounded to me as though
they said, ^^ Hoiv-irretty-it-is^ -out^ lioiu-2^retty-it-is' •
Oiit, how-pretty-it-is' 1 " The linnets are ardent
little wooers, singing and dancing before the in-
different 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 '11 — " But the fond linnets' gallantry and ten-
derness 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.
AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE. 91
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 out-
stretched wings, their square tails set so that the
white outer feathers showed to as oood advantage
as the white l)order of the kingbird's does in sim-
ilar 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. Kee'-ah^ kee-kee' kee'-ah^ 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.
One of the favorite huntino-orounds of the bee-
birds was the orchard, where they must have done
a great deal of good destroying insects. They
were quarrelsome bh-ds, and were often seen fall-
ing 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
92 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 chiji 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 chijjpies in the door-yard, brown chip-
pies around the barns, and brown chippies in the
brush till one got tired of the sight of them.
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
AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE.
93
-'--•■.'V-
California Chewiuk.
(One half natural size.)
to sit clown and study liini in your own door-
yard, or where he is so common as to be an
every-day matter. The chijDpies were always sit-
ting around, scratching", or
picking up seeds ; or else
quarreling among them-
selves. 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 aw^ay so closely I was
never sure of but one of their nests, and that
only by most cautious watch-
ing. 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
towhce concerts, the l)irds answering' each other
from different parts of the canyon.
Eastern Chewink.
(One half natural size.)
94 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
There was a nest in the chaparral which prob-
ably 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
AROUND OUR RANCII-IWUSK. 95
knowing" wlietlier to l)e afraid or not, and tnrninfj;
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 dis-
appeared in the brush. Near where he had been
was a spot wdiere a number of rabbit runways came
to a centre, and around it the rabbit council had
been sitting in a circle, their footprints proved.
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 wdre-screened
refrigerator that stood outside the kitchen under
an oak ! Another pair stowed their nest away in
an old nose-bag 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.
The crate nest was delightful to watch. The
jolly little birds, w^ith tails over their backs and
wind's hano^iu"-, would sin"' 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 annising
muffled little scold I The nest was so astonish-
96 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
iiigly large I was interested to measure it. Twigs
were strewn loosely over one end of tlie 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 bobbino- 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 !
Such jolly songsters I They were fairly bub-
bling 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 i^ole 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
AROUND OUR RAXCH-HOUSE. 97
his loiiudelay. He stopped short, bobbed ner-
vously from side to side, and then, rising- to hi«
feet and putting his riglit foot forward with a
pretty courageous gesture, took up his song again.
When the pair were buihling in the crate, I stuck
some white hen's feathers there, thinking they
miglit 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.
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 scaven-
gers. A few hours after an animal was thrown
out in the field tlie 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 in-
jured. They were grotesque birds. I often saw
them walk with their wings held out at tlicir sides
98 A-BTRDING ON A BRONCO.
as if cooling themselves, and the unbird-like atti-
tude together with the horrid appearance of their
red skinny heads made them seem more like har-
pies than before.
They were most interesting at a distance. I
once saw three of them standing like black im-
ages on a granite bowlder, on top of a hill over-
looking 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.
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
AROUND OUR RANCH-HOUSE.
99
5^r
- - ^i
Valley Quail and Road-Ivunner.
is in liis running-, and he does not trust much to
his short wings. The chaparral cocks nested in
the cactus on our liills, and were said to live
largely on lizards and horned toads.
It became evident that a pair of these singular
birds had taken up quarters in the chaparral on
100 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
the hillside back of the ranch-house, for one of
them was often seen with the hens in the door-
yard. 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 be-
tween 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
w^ith 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 wonderingiy. 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 black-
birds flew off and the road-runner walked out by
the kitchen to hunt among the buckets for food.
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 curios-
ity. 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 one before he got drowned I "
Another lad told me he had seen road-runners
AunrxD nrn raxch-jwuse. 101
in the nesting' season call for their mates on the
hills, lie had seen one stand on a bowlder fif-
teen feet high, and after strutting uj) 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.
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 val-
ley 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 ;
l)ats 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 burr-
ing poor-//' i//, poo i--iril' -low. Two or three hours
102 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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, poor-tcil'-Ioiv, jjooi'-ivil'-Iow,
VIII.
POCKET MAKERS.
The bush-tits are cousins of the eastern chick-
adees, 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 jn'eoccupied, 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 re-
minds one of the tail that wauaed the doir.
There were so mau}^ 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 gnat-
catchers, above the ranch-house, where I could
see it when sitting in the crotch of the tree.
Whih' watching it I looked beyond over the chap-
104
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Nest of the Busli-tit.
arral 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
lono', thouah the builders were less than half the
size of the orioles. Instead of being open at the
POCKET MAKERS. 105
top, it was roofed over, and the oidy entrance was
a small round hole, the girth of the bird, about
two inches under the roof.
One might imagine that such big houses woidd
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 sug-
gested that a Society for the Prevention of Cru-
elty to Fireflies would be needed if that were the
case ; but w hen it comes to that, what bird would
choose to brood by gaslight?
When I first saw the bush-tit in its round door-
way, it suggested Jack Horner's famous plum,
comical little ball of feathers ! When first watch-
ing 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 !
Seeing that nothing awful happened, the birds
finally took me off the black list and allowed me
to oversee their work, as long as 1 gave no
106 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
directions. Sometimes botli 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.
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.
One morning — after the birds had been put-
ting 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 van-
ished. 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 ?
However it came about, the wise birds con-
POCKET MAKERS. 107
eluded 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.
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.
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 pull-
ing 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 wad-
ding of feathers inside. I counted three Innidred,
and there were a great many more I 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
108 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
warm, I guess ; " while the other suggested, " So
the eggs would u'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.
Much to my surj^rise, in the bush-tit's nest
there was a broken eggshell. Had the Qg^ 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 poi3ped out of its mouth. If my
broken eggshell pointed to any such tragedy, it
cleared the birds of the accusation of being poor
builders.
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
JCKKl M:..-.! l.N A.N oAK
POCKET MAKERS. 109
they flew away to auy distance, on their return
they almost always came with their little call of
8c/irit, achrlt.
This nest was so low that I used to throw my-
self on the sand beneath the tree to watch it, tak-
ing- 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.
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 did n'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 sup-
port, 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.
After making away with the old nest, my con-
science smote me. Perhai)s the little i)Ocket
makers were not through with it, even if it was
on the ground ; so I l)rought a piece of it back
and tied it with a grass stem to a twig below the
110 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 sec-
ond 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 n^st. 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 !
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 sanie tree
where they had been before.
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 schrit.
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 break-
fast as well as his nerves. One of the family,
which I took to be the father bird, had some goody
POCKET MAKERS. Ill
in his bill, and one of the young, presumably, fol-
lowed 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 Ijoth 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 pro-
ceeding, 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 ! "
IX.
THE BIG SYCAMORE.
Before 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 mem-
ory. It was on one of California's most perfect
mornings. When the sun had risen over the val-
ley, 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
THE JUG SYCAMORE. 113
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.
Here stood the great sycamore, with branches
swaying ; for the tree faced this break in tlie 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.
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 tij) of the other, one
hundred and fifty-eight feet. In the photograph,
the figure of a person is almost lost in the com-
plicated network of the frame of the tree. The
treetop was a grove in itself. A flock of black-
114 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
birds flying up into it was lost among the
branches.
The I'anchman knew the sycamore as the ' swal-
low tree,' because in former years, before the val-
ley 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.
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
THE BIG SYCAMORE. 115
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.
The flycatchers seemed well suited to the syca-
more : they were birds of large ideas and sweej)-
ing 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 push-
ing 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. AVhen looking
for his material he would hover over the field
like a phoebe. 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
danofled a foot behind him. The birds seemed to
enjoy these great flights.
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 I When not oc'CU})ied in
arranging his plumes, he would shoot down at
every small bird that came upstairs ; a cowardly
proceeding, but perhaps he thought it necessary
116 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
to keep his hand in against meeting bigger hoys
than he ! When coming with material, one of
the bee-birds got caught in a heavy rope of cob-
web that dangled from the nest, and had to flut-
ter hard to extricate itself. About their nests
these birds seemed as hoine-loving as any others.
Their domesticit}^ 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
Mt^ r' r' r' r'.
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 flut-
tered 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
THE I] la SVC A MORE. Ill
lordly composure (|uite i^^noriiig 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.
A pair of bright orange orioles had a nest in
the s3'camore, 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 surel}^ with
its canopy of big green leaves.
Tliere 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 pha3l)e some-
times 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 plas-
tered its nest onto tlie 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.
One day when I rode down to the sycamore,
118 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
the meadow bordering it was full of ha5^cocks,
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 black-
birds made I In the fields near the sycamore
flocks of redwings went swinging over the tall
gleaming mustard. This was a great jDlace 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.
The cienaga — as they called the swamp — was
used as a pasture. It was pleasant to look out
uj)on, 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
TJIK Did SYCAMonE. 110
over her as she raised her sensitive face to see
who was there.
The son of the ranchman wlio owned the dairy
— the one who invited nie down to see the l)lay
between his do^' llonmlns and the biirrowino;
owl — said that when herding cows by the syca-
more he once caught sight of a coyote wolf. He
clajiped his hands to send his dog, Komulus,
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 liis 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 hid, clapping his hands, set the dog
on the coyote again, and this animated but blood-
less performance was repeated and kept up till
both were tired out, the animals chasing each
otlier back and forth from the sycamore to the
hillside with as much energy and perhaps as
much courage as was displayed by that historic
kino- of France who hatl five thousand men and —
'O
"... luan-hed tliein up a hill and then
IIu marched them down ag-ain."
On one side of the sycamore was a great wall
of weeds higher than my head when on horse-
])ack ;" a dense ma.ss of yeUow mustard, and
fragrant wild celery which was covered with
120 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
delicate white bloom. I saw blackbirds carry-
ing 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 con-
sideration 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 !
The next day when I went down to the syca-
more 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.
THE iik; sYCAMoni':. 121
Scivcncd by tlie hraiiclies, 1 listened quite un-
iiiiiulful of my work till my re\'erie was inter-
rupted by the man's givini;- a harsh ery to his
nudes. It was only an aside, however, for he
dropped back into his song in the same rich
sympathetic voice.
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 tlie
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
mowino'-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 trib-
ute to the profession. A few days later, on
meeting him, he asked if I had found the rattle-
snake — he had killed it under the sycamore and
hung it on a branch for me to see.
As the memory of my morning rides down to
the sycamore brings to mind the wonderful fresh-
ness of California's fog-cleared skies, so my sun-
set rides home from the great tree recall the
peacefulness of the quiet valley at twilight. One
sunset stands out with jieculiar distinctness. As
Mountain Billy turned from the sycamore marsh
its leaning l)lades gleamed in the evening light,
and the sun warmed the sides of the line of bull'
122 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
X.
AMONG MY TENANTS.
The 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.
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.
Half of the blackbirds who worked in the vine-
yard must have been beholden to me for rent,
I should judge by the jolly choruses of the sable
124 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
hordes moving about my treetoj^s. 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.
Another day, when we stojDped under a syca-
more, 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.
The blackbird colony was a busy one nesting-
time. The builders would fly down to the road to
get material, stej^ping 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.
A pair had built in one of the round mats of
mistletoe at the end of a branch, and while look-
ing 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
AMiL\f; ^fV TI^JXAXTS. 12')
they were joined by ii noisy band of indignant
members of the bhiekbird ehm.
I wiitelied tliis attack with great interest, not
knowino" that shrikes were concerned in black-
bird 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.
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 ;
tliough it must be acknowledged that the shrikes,
like other Ijirds on the ranch, were so used to
grazing horses they quite naturally took me for a
cattle herder.
In this case Canello did not act as my ally. He
had been (piiet and docile most of the morning,
Ijut now was hungry and saw some grass he was
126 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
On my next visit Canello behaved in more
seemly manner, and permitted me to see some-
thing of the ways of the maligned birds. You
would not have known them from any one else
except for the remarkable stilhiess of their neigh-
borhood. Some finches flew overhead as if mean-
ing 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.
It looked as if the shrike fed his mate. At
any rate, they worked together and rested to-
gether, 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
AMOXa }[]' TENANTS. 127
a pleasant place to linger in. The sea-breeze
was so strono- it turned the willow leaves white
side out, and the beautifid 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 fin-
ished their framework, put in a lining of snow-
white plant cotton, and had laid four eggs.
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 mistle-
toe at the end of a high oak branch, which was a
much safer place than the low willow.
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 ner-
vous 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.
128 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Canello acted iniicli as he had when hearing the
rattlesnake, and did not quiet down till horse and
rider were out of sight. The ranch-man told nie
he had been cruelly treated by the Mexican who
broke him, so perhaps it was another case of asso-
ciation of ideas.
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.
On the road to my sycamores was a deserted
whitewashed adobe. The place had become over-
grown 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 phoebe was perched on the old adobe chim-
ney 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
A.vnxr; .\fy r ex ants.
120
11}) to the acacia beside the well and looked down
anxiously, I put the pair on my callini;- list. It
did not talA) many visits to
prove my conclusion — there
was a nest down in the well
with white eoji-s in it. The
phoebes were most trustful
birds, and not only let Ca-
nello tramp around their yard,
but when a pump was pnt down
the well, and water pumped up Black Phoebe.
day by day, the brave parents, ^^"^ ^^^" "^^^''^^ ^'^«)
instead of deserting their eggs, went on brooding
as if nothing had happened.
Five years later, on going back to the ranch, I
found the phoebes 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 oables, on the hitchinji:
posts in front of it, and on
my prune-trees, that had
taken the place of the wil-
lows, across the road. They
even came up to my small
ranch-house and filled me
with delightful anticipa-
tions by inspecting the
beams of the piazza ; but they could not find
what they wanted and flew oft' to build elsewhere.
Eastern Phoebe.
(One half natural size.)
130 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Later in the season, a neighbor whose ranch was
opposite mine showed me a phoebe's nest inside
his whitewashed chicken house. Il^ 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 w^ere my old friends, but it seemed
very probable.
The smallest of my tenants was a humming-
bird. 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.
One morning, when on the way to the syca-
mores, 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
AMOXG ^fy TEXAXTS. 131
the cool trade wind comiug through a gap in the
hills most refreshing.
Suddenly there was a flash — we all waked up
— was that the house owner ? What a remark-
able bird! and what a display of color I — it had
a red head, fiery in the sun : a black back, and a
vivid yellow breast. On looking it up in Kidg-
way 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 ori-
ole's nest was neglected ; but ordinarily the rare
unknown birds did not detract from the enjoy-
ment of the old, more familiar ones.
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.
Canello could stand u]) to his knees in alfilaree
132 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
clover under their tree, so lie allowed me to watch
the birds in peace. The first day the male spar-
row hawk flew to the tree with what looked like a
snake dangling from his bill, and as he alighted
screamed Jdt-kit'ar' r' r' r\ spreading his wings
and shaking them with emphasis. AVhen this
brought no response, he flew from branch to
branch, crying out lustily. He revolved around
the end of a broken limb in whose ^mall hollow
was framed the head of Madame Falco. From
her height she looked like a rag doll at her win-
dow. 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.
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 !
AVhen 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, apj^arently trying to make up her mind
A.U(L\0- MV TEXAXTS. 133
to go in. When slie did fiy 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 pii)it\s, and when Canello moved
around too nuich, 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.
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 suc-
ceeded. 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 w^edge 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 sjjace.
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.
\Vhile 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.
134 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Her mate came a moment after, but she did not
even appear in the doorway when he called.
Again he came, crying heelc! keeh' Mch'-er^ r' r\
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.
The next day we had another session \\\t\\ 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 pos-
sible, 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.
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 w^ere two heads in the window ; one was
A}royr; ^fY texaxts. 135
the round domed top of a fluffy nestling whose
eyes expressed only vague fear ; l)ut 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
connnand ; 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.
These were not the only hawks of the valley.
Once, seeino- one of the larg-e Buteos winains; its
way with nesting sticks hanging from its claws,
I turned Canello into the field after it, follow-
ing till it lit in the top of a high sycamore.
The pair were both gathering material. Some-
times 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, be-
cause it belonged to a family that had been
traduced since history began. To tell the honest
ti'uth, T trembled a little myself at thought of
136 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 j^oung. 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 if -if -if -if -if -if -if., 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.
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,
AMONG MV TENANTS. 137
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 hay Held and the gentle breeze just
springing up ; all the warmth and sunshine and
fraorance of the fields. How could she ever
leave to go below ? Perhaps she bethought her
that soon the dark hole would be a home ring-
ing with the voices of her little ones ; at all
events, she quickly turned and disappeared in her
nest.
At the foot of the ranch I discovered a comi-
cal, sleepy little brown owl, dozing in a sycamore
window. When we waked it up, it went back-
ing 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 I He told me that he
had known old owls to change places in the day-
time, 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 wind-
mill tank in tlie neighborhood in about a month.
In a mine at Escondido the man had found a
138 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 com-
motion 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 neigh-
bors ; 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
AM().\(^ MY TKXANTS. 139
luuler its bill, as If to warn it of what might
happen.
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 oft'
a twig and rapped on the door. She came blun-
dering 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
starinoj to make out who we were. Then shakino-
her head rei)roaclifully, she swayed solemnly
from side to side. As the wind blew against her
rao^o^ed feathers she drew her winos 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 syca-
mores 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.
XI.
AN UNNAMED BIRD.
Six 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.
The fact of the matter is, you can identify per-
haps 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 mur-
der ; for it is impossible to
Name all the birds witliout a gun.
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
A\ LyyAMi:/) niiiD. 141
the word his skin woiikl 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 1 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 impos-
sible. I will put the case before you, and you
can judge if you would not have withheld your
hand.
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 ja}', 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 bio- 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.
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
142 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
— all the world seemed full of happy home-
makers.
But soon I saw a sight that made me forget
everything else. There were my brave little birds
np in the oak working upon a beautiful moss cup
that hung from a forked twig. They were build-
ing together, flying rapidly back and forth bring-
ing bits of moss from the brush to put in their
nest.
They worked independently, each hnnting 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.
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,
AN rXXAMKI) BIRD. 148
settled down in the nest and sat tlieie the picture
of quiet happiness.
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
eup, for it was gone and the tree was deserted.
Nevertheless, the birds had been so attraetive,
and their nest so interesting, that through the five
years that passed before my return to California
I kept their memory green, and eould never think
of them without tenderness — though I eould eall
them by no name. If they had only worn red
feathers in their caps, it would have been some clue
to their coats-of-arnis ; but, out of hand, there
seemed to be nothing to mark the plain, little,
greenish gray birds from half a dozen of their
cousins.
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.
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 onlv a few rods from the one where
144 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 I 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 uncon-
cernedly as if it, too, remembered me. The mossy
cup seemed prettier than any rare bit of Sevres
china, for I looked upon it with eyes that had
been waiting for the sight for five years.
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.
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 ' spuri-
ous primaries,' — " Woe worth the chase ! "
.4.V UNNAMKI) Dili J). 145
Now and tlien 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.
The birds said a good deal up in the oak, some-
times 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
aloud whistle — wheeAt^ — 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. Ilis clear ringing voice was
one of the most cheering in the valley.
When the building seemed done and I was look-
ing forward to the brooding, as the birds would
then, perforce, be more about the nest, one sad
morning T rode up through the oaks and found
the bejiutiful 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 1 had
looked forward so many years was now tMided.
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
146 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
set a price on their heads ; now, rather than
raise my voice against them, they shoukl remain
forever imnamed.^
^ ISince this paper was written, I have consulted an authority
on nests, who thinks that this nameless bird was probably Hut-
ton's vireo.
XII.
HUMMERS.
California is the land of flowers and linm-
mingbirds. 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 mo-
ment 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
ai)proaching one is met by the brown spindle-
like birds, darting out from the blooming shrubs,
gleams of green, gold, and scarlet glancing from
their ""orofets.
The large brown lunnmers 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-
148 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
oaks are their nesting grouiids. 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
The Little Hummer on her Bow-Knot Nest.
(From a photograph.)
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 some-
H f '}[.}[ Ens. 149
times fly inside: and as we stepi)ed out tliey often
darted away from the Rowers grcnving under the
windows.
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 hunnningbird courtship
unless — perhaps one performance I saw was part
of the wooing. I was sitting on Mountain Bill}^
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.
This is all I have ever seen of the court-
ship ; but when it comes to nest-building, I have
150 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
often been an eye-witness to that. One little
acquaintance made a nest of yellow clown 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.
Thouo'h this little hummer that I was watch-
ing 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 surpris-
ing 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.
Another hummingbird who built across the
J^'^r^^ERs. 151
way was still more trustful — with people. I
used to sit leaning- against the trunk of her oak
and watcli the nest, wliieh 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.
The nest was saddled on a twio^ and j^lued to a
glossy dark green oak leaf. Like the other nest,
it was made of a spongy yellow substance, prob-
ably 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, buzzin"- in with her material and then
buzzing off after more. Once I saw the cobweb
hanging from her needle-like bill, and Ijiought
she probably had been tearing down the beauti-
ful suspension bridges the spiders hang from tree
to tree.
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 cu}), 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 nuich more convenient it
would have been if lier bill had been jolntrd ! It
152 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 pe-
culiar feature of her work was her quivering
motion in moulding. When her material was
placed she moulded her nest like a potter, twirl-
ing 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 w ould sit on the rim and
lean over, smoothing the sides with her bill, often
wdth 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.
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.
One day, wanting to experiment, I put a hand-
ful of oak blossoms on the nest. They covered
HUMMERS. 153
the cup and Inmi;' down over the sides. Wli<*n
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 cabnly lit on top of it I Part of it went off
as she did so. but the rest she appropriated,
fastening in the loose ends with the eol)web she
had brought.
She often gave a little squeaky call when on
the nest, as if talkino' to herself about her work.
When i»-oinf>- off for material she w^ould 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 vibrjit-
ing 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.
" There 's odds in folks," our great-grand-
mothers used to say; and there certainl}^ is in
l)ii(l folks ; even in the ways of the same one at
different times. Now this hummingbird was con-
tent to build right in front of my eyes, and the
liummer down at the little lover's tree, with her
first nest, was so indifferent to Billy and me that
I took no i)ains to kee]) 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 liavlng
154 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 sujiported.
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 rejDorters would not
intrude. I was disappointed and grieved, hav-
ing 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.
At first I thought this suspicion reflected upon
the good sense of hummingbirds, but after think-
ing 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
IlI'MMhlliS. 1.")")
unlucky moment when he got the oak branches
tangled in the i)ommel of the saddle, although
her branch was not among them, I can but admire
her for moving when she found that the Philis-
tines were again upon her, for her new house was
hunir iit the tip of a branch that Billy miiiht easily
have swept in passing.
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.
Before the old hummer flew off, she picked uj)
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.
She fed at the long intervals that are so trying
to an observer, for if you are going to sit for hours
156 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
with 3 our eyes glued to a nest, it really is pleas-
ant to have something- hapj^en 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 j^oung, 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 tlieir pin-
feathers, and stretch their wings over the nest.
One fine morning when I went to the oak I
heard a faint squeak, and saw something flutter-
ing up in the tree. When the mother came, she
buzzed about as thouoh not likino- the look of
things, for her children were out of the nest,
and behold I — 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.
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 fallins: leaves,
IHMMEltS.
ir,
started when Billy sneezed, and turned from side
to side very apprehensively, in spite of his out-in-
the-\vorl(l. big -hoy airs. He may have felt
lianipcrt'd by his unused wings, for, as he sat
The Swing Nest of the Hummer.
(^F'rniii i( Pliotoprai)h.>
there waiting for his mother to come, he strokeil
them out with his Ijill to get them in better work-
ing order. That done, he leaned over, rounded
158 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
his shoulders, and pecked at a leaf as if he were
as much grown up as anybod3\
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. An-
other 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 photo-
grapher 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 wand. 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.
XIII.
IN TIIK SHADE OF THK OAKS.
TiiKHE weiv half a dozen places in the valley,
irrigatetl by tlie spring rains, where I was always
sure of findin": birds. Amoni>- them, on the west
side, was the big sycamore, standing at the lower
end of the valley ; while above, in the north-
west corner, was the mouth of Twiu Oaks can-
yon 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 l)elow it
straggled the line of sycamores that foUowed
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.
Surrounded by a waste of chajjarral, it was a
little oasis of great bloomino: live-oaks, and in
their sliade I used often to spend the hot after-
noon liours. In the spring the water that flowed
down tlie hills at the head of the valley formed
a fresh mountain stream that ran down the Oden
160 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 flit-
ted about the golden tassels of the blossoming-
trees, and the air was full of the happy songs
of mated birds.
The trail from the ranch-house to the oaks
was a line through the low grass in which grew
yellow fl}' flowers and orange poj^pies : 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 pass-
ing 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 chat-
ter, and chewinks to sing ; while its hanging-
boughs and elm-like feathered sides attracted
wandering warblers and songful wrens.
The happy days spent among these beautiful
/.V -////; SHADE OF THE OAKS. IHl
California oaks are now far in the past, but as
I sit in my study in tlie East and dream back
over tlidsi' hours my mind is filled with memory
l)ietures. Sauntering- through this oaken gallery,
each tree recalls some pleasant hour — the sight
of a new bird, the sound of a new song, the pro-
longed delight of some cozy home that I watched
till accepted as a friend, wdien the little family's
fears and joys w^ere my own.
That big double oak, sj^reading 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 hunnningbird
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 tall spread w ide ; and here, when
watching a ])rn(*('ssi<)n of ants, I discovered a
tiny luunniingljird building in a drooping branch
that overhung the trail. That dead limb was
the perch of a wood pewee, a silent grave bird
162 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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.
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
fX THE SIJADK OF THE OAKS. 108
way back to the Koeky Mountains. Ho was a
beautiful stranger with a soft glossy coat touched
off with yellowish green, while his liigli-bred
ii-entle manners have made me remember him
with affectionate interest all
these years. Across the gar-
den I heard my first song
from that unique rhapsodist,
the yellow-breasted chat.
The same place marks an-
other interesting experience. Green-talkd chewink.
While I was sitting in the (One lialf natural size.)
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 chip-
pie which appeared just then in characteristic
negligee, its wings hanging and tail drag-
ging on the ground. The thrashers of Twin
Oaks have bills that are curved like a sickle,
and this bird used her tool most skillfully. In-
stead 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
164 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
to side. Then slie 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 any-
thing had come to the surface there. Then she
lay dow^n on the sand to sun herself and acted
as though going to take a sun bath, when sud-
denly she discovered me and fled.
When watching the bird at \vork I got a
pretty picture in the round disk of my opera-
glass. The glass w^as focused on the digging
thrasher, but a goldfinch came into the picture
and pulled at some stems for its nest and a cot-
tontail 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.
The thrasher's curved bill gives a most ludi-
crous look to the bird when singing. He looks
as if he w^ere 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 they have straight
bills ; a most curious and interesting instance of
adaptation.
At the head of the garden stands a tree that
always reminds me of the horses I rode in Cali-
fornia. I watched my first bush-tit's nest under
it, with Canello grazing near ; and five years later
IX THE SHADE OF THE (JAKS. Kjo
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 sim-
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, look-
ing down at me with a friendly smile in his eyes.
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, liaving
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.
166 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 back-
bone vigorously on the sand. After that, the first
thing every morning w^ien 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.
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 oppo-
site, craning their necks and moving their heads
uneasily. One of them seemed to be shaping a
nest of twigs. I drew Billy around betw^een 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 wdth a musical whirr.
Billy's oak was the last of the high trees in the
garden. Above it was a grassy space where
bright wild flow ers bloomed, and pretty cottontail
rX TJIK SHADE OF THE OAKS. 107
rabbits often wont ambling over the soft tuif.
On one side of the opening was a low stoeky oak,
full of balls of niistk'toe, 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.
My first experience with gnatcatchers had been
here. I suspected a nest, and the ranchman's
dauo:hter went with me to hunt throuoh 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
stepi)ing 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 througli 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 tlieir liouse. We might have saved
ourselv<'s all tlie troul)le 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
])lain sight and within easy reach — how they
168 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
would have laughed in their sleeves had they
known what we were hunting for back in the
brush I 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.
Around the blossoming bush the air fairly vi-
brated with hummers, darting uj) 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.
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
i\ Tin: siiADi-: <>j- Till-: oaks. i«;i)
had brought, cliaiiij^rd about, jiuiipt'd as li.i^htly as
a bird ui)on the other's back and raced home.
Soon she eanie gaUoping back again, and so she
went and came until tired out, for pure fun on
her free holiday.
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 cer-
tain sounds })redominated ; certain songs would
absorb one's attention, and then pass and be re-
placed 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 w^ith 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
tlie 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
170 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 pass-
ing 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 lat-
tice 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 per-
fect 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.
XIV.
A MYSTERIOl'S TRAGEDY.
Ox a peg just inside the door of the ranch-
man's old wine shed hung one of the horses' un-
used 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.
The first time I went to the wine shed both
wrens and linnets were there, but nothing hap-
pened 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 in-
side. I could see her dark eyes, the white line
over them, and her black barred tail. She w^as
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 lier affairs were
progressing.
All her eggs hatched in time, and the small
birds, from being at first all eyeball, soon got to
\)ii 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.
172 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
The mother bird fed them several times when
I was watching- onl}^ 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 wind-
ing 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 I When sat-
isfied, she hoj)ped along from beam to beam, lier
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.
One day when I looked in to see how wren
matters were progressing, to my amazement and
horror, instead of m}^ 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.
I had become very fond of the winsome mother
bird, and so much interested in her brood that
The Xosebaj;' Nest.
(VigorH's Wren.)
174 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
this horrid discovery came like a tragedy in the
family of a friend.
And what did it all mean? Unless the old
wrens had been dead, could the linnets have
gotten possession? The wrens were asually 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 bury-
ing 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 ?
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 perjjlexity,
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 ?
XV.
now I HELPED BUILD A NEST.
TiiEY picked out their crack in the oak and
began to build without any advice from nie, win-
ning little gray-crested titmice that they were.
Their oak was right behind the ranch-house barn ;
I found it b\' hearing tl\e bird sing there. The
little fellow, warmed by his song, flitted up the
tree a branch higher after each repetition of his
loud cheery t}i-irhit\ tH-fcIiit\ tu-y:Iiit\ tu-vhit'.
Meanwhile his pretty mate, with bits of stick in
her bill, walked down a crack in the oak trunk.
Thinking she had gone, I went to examine the
place. I poked about with a twig but could n'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 fright-
ened than she by the intrusion.
The titmice had been flying back and forth
from the hen-yard witli chicken's feathers, and it
seemed such slow work for them I thought I
would help them. So the next day, when the
[)air were away, I stuffed a few white feathers
176
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
into the mouth of the nest and withdrew under
the shadow of the barn to watch through my
glass without being observed. Then my con-
science beo:an to trouble me. What if this inter-
The Plain Titmouse in her Doorway.
ference should drive the gentle bird to desert her
nest?
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
IfolV I HELPED IllILn .1 A7-;.s-7'. 177
raised, and my small liiciid lio})ped down to Ikt
doorway. She i^ave ii start of sni-prise at sight of
the feathers, but after a moment's liesitation 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 disapi)eared. She evidently
believed in taking what the gods provide. In
fact, she seemed only to wish that they would pro-
vide more, for, after taking a second sui)ply from
me, she stood in the vestibule, cocked her crested
head, and looked about as if expecting to see new
treasures.
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 aronnd the crack.
She hesitated — the rush of her flight probably
fanned the air so the white plumes waved in her
face — she hesitated ahd looked around timidly
before getting courage to go in ; and on leaving
the nest flew away in nervous haste ; but she was
soon ])ack again, and ready to take the feathers
down inside the oak. She caught hold of the tip
of one that was wedji^ed into a crack, and tujriied
and tugged till I was afraid she would get dis-
couraged and go oft* without it. She got it, how-
178 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
ever, 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.
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 disap-
proval, but I addressed him in such friendly terms
that he soon flew off and talked to his mate reas-
suringly, as if he had decided that it was all right
after all. After their conversation she came back
and made the best of her vr ay right down through
the feather-bed I I went away delighted with
her perseverance, and charmed by her confidence
and pretty performances.
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 build-
ins: stuff. She had somethino; in her beak when I
caught sight of her, but in an instant w^as down on
the ground after another bit. Then- she flew up
iKnv I iiFjj'i:!) r.i'ii.i) a xest. 170
in the tivo lookini;- among- tlic leaves ; in passing
slie swnni^ a moment on a strap hanging from a
l)raneli : then flew down among the weeds, l)ack
np in the tree again : and so l)ack and forth, over
and over, her bill getting fuller and fuller.
I was glad to save her work, and interested to
see how far slie 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 horse-
hair — 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 quicld}' to the nest
with it.
This i)erformanee i)roved 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 ques-
tion was, what did she like ?
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 tiglit
for licr. After that I tried tying l)its of cotton
to strings, and letting them dangle before the
180 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 tug-ged till,
finally, she backed triumphantly down the hole
with one.
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 ignominionsly
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.
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.
Perhaps it was unkind to bother the poor bird
HOW I HELPED Br^ILD 1 NEST. 181
any more, but I meant her no liarm 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 woukl
take tlie 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.
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 car-
pet, 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.
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 worlv was done, and she was
waiting till it should be time to begin brooding.
182 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Ten days later I saw her mate come witli his
bill full of worms and lean down by the hole to
call her. ' She answered with a sw^eet 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 door-
way and flew off to another tree, calling out tscM-
de-de so sweetly he would surely have come back
to her had he been within hearing.
A few days later I saw him feed her at the nest
five or six times in half an hour. He w^ould 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.
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 s2:)ouse. 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, how-
now I iiKLPEJ) nr^iLD a nest. 183
cvor, and iv^\ the little ones without hesitation
rii;ht Ix'fore me. knowini;- full well that a person
wlio had Iiclped them huild their nest would never
liarm tliclr little lu'ood ; and it was a disappoint-
nu'ut when I had to go away and leave the
winning family.
XVI.
IN OUR neighbor's DOOR-YARD.
The little German girl with the scarlet pina-
fore was a near neighbor, living at the head
of the valley in a cottage surronndecl 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; gold-
finches, 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 tif-trJnt', tu-irhit'^ tu-ichit' 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 after-
wards in either place. Back and forth I followed
that elusive voice, hoping to discover the nest,
fN OUR SElariROR'S DOOR-YARD. 185
but I suspect the bird was only prospecting, and
had not even begun to work.
The little German Gretchen became interested
in the search for the titmouse's nest, and told me
tliat 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 tiiat, 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 e""'s had hatched. When her older sis-
ter 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."
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 fly-
ing into tlie hole straight from the fence post.
It seemed such hard work finding worms out
in the hot sun that 1 wondered if birds' eyes ever
ached from the intentness of their search, and if
there were near-sighted birds. Perhaps the in-
186 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
tervals of feeding depend on the worm supply
rather than the dietary principles of the parents.
Gretchen's mother was bending over her wash-
tubs out under the oaks, and I called her atten-
tion 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.
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 humming-
bird in the window, and we caught it," adding, " I
think it must have been a father humming-bird."
"Why?" I asked, " was it pretty ? " "Yes, it
just shined," she exclaimed enthusiastically.
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
IN OUR XRiniinoii's nooii-vAiii). 187
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 I)illy, and turned to have
me caress him each time that the little horse
walked up to have the flies l)ruslied off his nose,
or having pulled up a l)unch of grass by the roots,
brought it for me to hold so that he could eat it
without o;ettino' the dirt in his mouth.
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 anx-
iety by this indifference — lie had step})ed 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.
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 role was
to remain a stick. And Billy certainly acted as
if it were. 1 threw the reins on his neck, think-
188 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
ing that if lie put liis head down to graze he
might make a discovery. Then a horrid thought
came to me. The peoj^le said the rattlers some-
times lost their rattles. In a general way, rat-
tlers 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 go-
pher, and it lacked the wade 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 re-
assured, when it started. Its silken skin shone
as it wormed silently through the grass and dis-
appeared down a hole without a sound, and I
reflected that it might also come iij) without a
sound, very likely beside me as I sat on the dead
leaves I
XVII.
WHICH WAS THE MOTHER BIRD ?
The 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 pha^be 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 findino^ somethin^^ interestiufj about the old
o o o
place.
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 sat-
isfied as to whose child was crying. A moment
later a lazuli buntin;:- flew over with food in her
190 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
But if so, what did this interest on the part of
the wren-tit mean? She hopped about the nest-
ling 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-commital air. The lazuli, however, sat in-
differently 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 w^here I could not see them,
though there was a hint of tiny quivering wings,
and I was morally certain that the old bird was
feeding it, especially when she flew up in sight
with the smart air of having outwitted me.
I was getting more and more bewildered.
What did it all mean ? Were there two families
of young down in the tangle ? If not, wdiy 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.
The wren-tit simply devoted herself to the little
bird, going and coming for it constantly ; while
WHICH ir.lN THE MOTHER BIRD' liU
the lazuli, ordinarily the most nervous noisy Itinl
when her young are disturbed, sat around silently,
or Hew away without remark. I beeame so im-
pressed by the wren-tit side of the ease that I
(juite foriiot the lazuli note and markiniis.
tJust as I thought I had eonie to a decision in
the case, a male lazuli flew in. lighting atilt of
an aeaeia stalk opposite the wren-tit. But wlien
he saw me he craned his neck and flew oft' in a
hurry — no father, surely, seared away at the fli-st
glimpse of me I However, I was not clear in my
mind, and sat do\\ii to puzzle the matter out.
At this juncture Madame Lazuli came with
food ; the young bird turned toward her for it,
and behold I 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 !
In my perplexity I moved so near tlie 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 disco veivd 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 '* tput," in nervous tones : altogether
acting so nuu*h like anxious parents that I had to
relinquish my theory that the little bird belonged
to the wivu-tit. Like the mother whom Solomon
192 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
judged, she forgot all else when real danger
threatened the child. Having come to my deci-
sion from circumstantial evidence, I remembered
with a start that I had known it all the time,
from the wing-bars and the call note ! Never-
theless, my riddle was only half solved, for how
about the wren-tit ?
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 syca-
more leaf. Though the fledgling called, the
mother left without going to it.
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.
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
WHICH WAS THE MOTIIFAI I'.ini)^ 193
seemed bewildered, but she followed in their wake
— we all followed. Here ciinie a closer test.
Both lazuli and wren-tit stood before the small
bird. \Vhich 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.
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 w^ere flying
in procession across the brush, the lazuli following
its mother and the wren-tit bringing up the rear.
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 ?
XYIII.
A RARE BIRD.
We may say that we care naught for the world
and its ways, but most of its 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 hrown
Qliippie to study with enthusiasm the ways of a
'phainopepla ! Sometimes, however, in ornithol-
ogy as in the world, a name does cover more
than its letters, and we are duj^ed 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 jileasure
afforded by a study of his unusual ways.
On my first visit to Twin Oaks I caught but
brief glimpses of this distinguished bird. Some-
times 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
IIK I-HAINOl-El'LAS ON THH rKl'PF.R-TKKE
A RARE BIRD. 195
smooth and trim, he made u\v think of a bird of
glass perc'lied on a tive. J>ut while I gazed at
him he would launcli into the air and wino; his
way high over the valley to the hillsides beyond,
leaving me to marvel at the white disks on his
wings, hidden when perching, bnt in air making
him snggest a black shij) with white sails.
His appearance was so elegant and his ways so
unusnal that I went back East regretting I had
not given more time to a bird who was so indi-
vidual, and resolved that if I ever returned to
California my first pleasure should be to study
him. When the time finally came, an ornithol-
ogist friend who knew my plans wTote, exclaim-
ing, " Do study the phainopeplas I " and added
that she felt like making a journey to California
to see that one bird.
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. T
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 })hainopeplas flew u]) right before my eyes
almost witliin sight of the house. I droi)])ed down
behind a bush, and in a moment more the birds
flew to a little oak ])y the road — a tree I had
198 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
been sitting nnder 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 m}^ 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.
After that came a number of tantalizing hints.
When watching the third giiatcatcher's nest I
had seen a pair of phainopeplas flying sugges-
tively back and forth from the brush to the vari-
ous oaks, and thought the handsome lover fed
his mate as his relative the gentle high-bred wax-
wing does. Surely the wooing of these beautiful
birds should be carried on with no less fine feel-
ing, 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."
After that, something really delightful came
A RARE BIRD. 197
about. Day by clay, on riding back to our ranch-
house, I found phainopeplas there eating the ber-
ries of the pepper-trees in our front yard. Before
long the birds began coming early in the morn-
ing : their voices were the first sounds we heard
on awakenino' and almost the last at nioht, and
soon we realized the delightful fact that our trees
had become the feeding ground for all the phaino-
peplas of tlie 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.
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 w^hen the bird flew
away it rose obllcjucly 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 tliat remained in the centre of the
valley, known to tlie ranchmen as the ' Island.'
The flight looked so premeditated that the first
thing the next morning, although tlie phaino-
198 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
peplas 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 phaino-
pepla did not seem greatly alarmed, and, throw-
ing 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 !
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
A RARE BIRD. 199
time It was for a schoolgirl who had staked out
her horse on the edge of the island and was cross-
ing over to the schoolliouse. A few moments
later the hell rang out so loudly that Billy stepped
around his oak with animation, but the phalno-
peplas were used to it and showed no uneasi-
ness.
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 nestlns: 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 nuich less afraid
than strangers, whatever airs they assumed. In
the i)hotograph, 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 rl<ilit. One thins:
puzzled me from the outset. While the male
worked on the nest, tlie 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. AVhat did it mean? I
invented all sorts of fancies to account for it.
200 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
Had she been to the pepper-trees so much less
than he that she was over-troubled by my pres-
ence, 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
w^ould not have you come near if it would dis-
quiet you."
In any event, he built away quite unconcern-
edly 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 w^ent out to talk to them while they lunched
to let them know it was only I wdio had visited
their nest, so they would have new confidence on
the morrow.
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
A RAnE niiiD. 201
the ground with his back arched and his head
down. He nosed around under the bushes, show-
ing 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 aninud's relatives,
l)ut I saw nothing more of my birds that day.
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 un-
concerned, 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 hio'h oaks on the far side of the island. All
my hopes of the first low inaccessible nest van-
ished. I had driven the birds away. My intru-
siveness 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 sim})le matter to locate
the birds. I would walk over, find in which tree
they were l)uilding, and spend the morning with
them. I went. Each oak was encircled by a
thick wall of brush, over which it was almost im-
possible 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 after-
noon 1 went home with renewed respect for Billy
202 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
as an adjunct to field work. In order to locate
anything in chaparral, one must be high enough
to overlook the mass.
That afternoon I saw a pair of phainopeplas
fly up a canyon on the east, and another j^air
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 intelli-
gent work. Kiding 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
23atient enough. Surely if I could wait an hour
for an ordinary hummingbird, I could wait a
morning for an absent phainopepla.
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 pej^per-tree ac-
quaintance, I do not know ; but to my great
A RAUK BIRD. 203
relief he went back to his work. By this time
the little tree which had seemed such a comfort-
able 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 iuy 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 I
He did not say a word, but looked around ab-
stractedly, as if hunting for mateiial.
If he were so inditferent, perhaps it would be
safe to creep nearer. Following the paths trod-
den 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 sug-
gestive 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.
Tlie phainopepla worked busily for some time,
flying ra})idly 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 wrig-
gled over the leaves, and I thought of my rattle-
snake. Then Billy sneezed in a forced way, as
204 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 u}3 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 I What observers birds are, to
be sure I The best of us have much to learn
from them.
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 unmindf id of me.
As I had seen from the outset, the male did
almost all the building. AYhen 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.
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
.1 iiAiiE binij. 205
he would flatten his crest and dash down indig-
nantly, but for the most part he perched quietly
excei)t to make short sallies into the air for in-
sects, 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
robiu, and while I answered him he gave his
note seventeen times in one minute, and eleven
times in the next half minute.
The birds had a great variety of calls and
songs, most of which were vivacious and cheering
and seemed attuned to the warmth and bright-
ness of the California sunshine. The quality
of the love song was rich and flute-like.
The male phainopepla seemed to enjoy life
in general and his work in particular. He fre-
quently 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 tlien, as the black head moved in front, the
black tail would tilt \\\) behind at the back of
the nest as if the Itird were moulding; but there
was comparatively little of that. When com-
pleted, the nest was a soft felty structure.
206 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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. Some-
times he stayed only half a minute ; when he
stayed three minutes, it was so unusual that I
recorded it. He worked spasmodically, how-
ever. 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 delib-
erate 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 otlier birds, as little would
be going on with the phainopeplas ; and they
often flew off for a lunch of peppers.
Just as the island nest was about done — it
was destroyed ! I found it on the ground under
.1 AM/.'/-; iiinn. 207
the tree. For a time 1 felt as if no nests eould
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 \\\).
Sometimes I wondered how a bird ever had cour-
age to start a nest.
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 min-
utes, during a i)erio(l 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 t(i 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 l)uil(l, but to inspect the build-
208 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
ing 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 ; per-
haps 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 !
In several instances I found that while the
males were at work building, the females went
off by themselves. Once I saw Madame Phaino-
pepla bring her friend home with her. No sooner
had the visitor lit than — shockino- 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 them-
A RARE BIRD. 209
selves like light-liearted, care-free bachelors.
Their mates wore not in sight. But suddenly
I glanced uj) and saw two females flying in to
the island high overhead, as if coming from a
distance. Instantly the indilferent 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 to-
gether.
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.
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
w^ere 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 archi-
tect'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, tlie female had
210 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
been to the nest so much less than the male that
now she was much shyer ; but although Billy
frightened her by tramping clown the brush near
by, it was she who first overcame her fears and
went to cover the eggs.
XIX.
MY liLUE GUM GROVE.
One 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 euca-
lyptus grove for a load of the pale green aro-
matic boughs with which to trim my attic study ;
for their fragrance is delightful and their delicate
l)lue-green tone lends itself readil}^ to decorative
purposes. When the supply needed replenish-
ing, I rode down on Mountain Billy and carried
home the sweet-smelling brandies on the saddle.
The grove served a more utilitarian purpose,
however. The eucalyptus is an Australian tree,
with narrow straight-hanging leaves, and its
rai)id 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 s])i'ing
up again and so(m be ready to yield another
crop. My grove had never been cut, but would
soon l)e old enough. In the photograph of a
eucalyi)tus avenue near Los Angeles, the row
of trees on the right have been cut near the
ground and tli<' l)r:niclung trunks are the con-
stMpicnce.
212 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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 land-
scape, 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.
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 hang-
ing 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 Qrrove. To mark it he had
MY BLUE GUM GROVE. 218
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.
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 ob-
structed 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.
The eucalyptus - trees change very curiously
as they grow old. When young they are cov-
ered 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
214 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
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.
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 Cali-
fornia. 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 some-
thing 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
MY BLUE GUM GROVE. 215
grove a great deal, I never ran into but one
cobweb, and was conscious of the pleasant free-
dom 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.
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.
Yellow-birds called cheet'-tee, ca-cheet'-ta-tee^
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
216 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
stumbled on a skeleton and feathers of one of the
family.
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 some-
thing 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 neigh-
bor 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.
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
3/}' BLUE GUM GROVE. 217
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.
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 be-
side 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.
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 tw^o bows
of stiff ribbon.
The second nest was on a drooping Inanch, and,
to make it stand level, was deepened on the down
218 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
side of the limb, making it the highest humming-
bird'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.
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 him-
self or when the shadow of a soaring turkey buz-
zard 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
MY BLUE GTM GROVE. 219
round balls, but, not satisfied, I pulled down the
bouffh 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.
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
220
A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO.
wood had come to seem like a cool wayside chapel,
a place of peace.
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.
INDEX.
lleebinl. 114 lit";, 117.
cMttliiiiK Ix-es, 114, 115.
L-aiiKlit in robweb rope, 110.
defending nest with life, 111 -!>_'.
tloniestioity, IKJ.
Hy«-atiliing, lU, !H, 100.
making living off blac-kbinl.s, IM.
nest, 01.
neuting site, 91, ll."».
noisy, l."i.
notes, 91, lir..
t|iiarrelsonie, 91, 11.', IK!.
Bird Psychology,
assoiMation of iileas, 4<>, T'2, 75, 70,
77,78, ]i.->, i:r., i;5s, \rA, I9s.
caution, 9, _"_', 'JS, :Jt;, 05, T.O, 07, Si',
S5, S7, SS, '.>4, 1.50, 190, 19S, -Jdl,
•202, --'(U.
conragti, 11 12, 23, 40, 42, .54, 8.'],
95,97, 120, 129, 141, 144, 175, 177,
l.s<), 181, 210, 215.
curiosity, 25, 97, 100, 151.
dissimulation, 4.5, 49, 02, IIKI, 215.
emotion, — fear, 22, 25, 20, 27, ^,
3.5,4^1,41, 42,40, i;i, (17, 71, 7.3,
81, 87, 8,S, 10.5, 133, 13.5, 1.54, 1(^,
177, ISO, 191, 21.5, 218 ; grief, 40,
47, 92 ; joy. :}0, 204 ; unusual ac-
tion inider excitement, :50, .58, (;.3,
04, 81, .S7, 88, 191, 208.
exprerision of emotion and ideas, —
by use of crests, .ittitudes, and
movements, 8, 9, II, 10, 20, .30,
31,.32, 3.3, :M, .39, 41, 42, 44, 40,
49, 53, 50, 59, (;:i, M, 07, 70, 78,
79, M, 84, 87, 88, 90, 97, 101, 105,
110, 117. 124, 129, 1.32, 138, 139,
149, 1.5<;, 1(U;, ISO, I'.Kl, 101, 2«2,
•20.5,208,21.5. By voice, calls of
wanung,.5, 42,53,85,197, 198, -JOl ,
20*2, 2(».3,_'09; conversation, 15,25,
28, .3;*, :{.5, 30, 41 , 42, 43,44, 40. 4s,
49, .52, .59, 0.2, 09, 7 1 , 74, 75, 78, S4,
85, 87, 89, IMl, 109, 110, lis,
132, KW, 14.5, 147, 149, 1.5;$, l.V.,
178, 180, 182, 190, V.Y2 ; cries ot
anger, anxiety, distreim, fear,
pain, 12, 4.5, 40, 47, 58, 80, 91, 94,
1.33, 138, 191 ; exclamations, 44,
.58, Gl, 87, 11.5, lie, 124; s<old-
ings, 34, .30, 37, 58, CO, 80, 95, 90,
102, 172, 182 ; songs of happiness,
8, 10, 1.5, 21, 22, 52, 59, 82, 83, 84,
90, 93, 95, 90, 97, 122, 120, 142,
109, 175, 178, 198, 205; songs of
love, 22, 20, 30, 31, ,50, !Mt, 101,
142, 108, 170, 181, 204, 205, 208.
humor, 124.
individuality, C, 8, 11, 13, 14, 10,
22, 25, 20, .30, 31, .32, 33, 34, 35,
38, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 40, 49, .50, 52,
54, .50, 02, 03, 04, 05, 75-80, 81,
.84, 85, 80, 87, 88, 90, 91, 95,
90, 97, 98, 99, KK), 101, 111, 115,
124, 125, 120, 132, 130, 139, 142,
143, 149, 153, l.-)4, 103, 104, 17(t,
179, 181, 184, 190, VM, 19.5, 204,
205, 2(tS, 209, 210-217.
inherited in.stincts, 75, 70, 78, 79,
1.50.
intelligence shown in, — building,
17, 28, 49, 50, 5.3, 1(»7, 108, l(»;i,
114, 130, 1.50, ir>4, 158, 217-21S ;
disciplining young, 8,5; getting
food by others' work, 13 ; profit-
ing by mi.stakes, 107, 109, 1.3.3,
\?A, 1.5;i-1.54 (?) ; protecting
young, 8, 9, 12, 3(;, .37, 85, i;'.5,
15(i, 191, 21.5; removing nest
from danger, GO, 114, 154 ; .se-
lecting materials for nest, 14, .5:'.,
50, ,82, 89, 90, 107, 127, 144, l.'.O,
179, 181 ; selecting nesting site,
23,2.8,83, 93, 9.5, 99, 124, 127,
130, 131, 1.50; silence of young
in danger, 71, 8.">.
keen senses, 59, 74, 97.
local attachment, 0; special
perches, .57, 02, 120, l_tt. 107,
202, 2(4, 200.
play impulse, 12, 11."., 124, 155 (?),
208-209.
pride of possession, 25, 80, 115,
2< 14-205.
self-denial, .^3, 50, 52.
Birds,
adaptation, 150, 1.52, 103, 104 ;
protective coloration, 10, 11,81,
;>2, 101, 18.5, 1119.
domestic life, — accept help in
Iniilding, 97, 1.52-15.3, 175-17.S,
179-180 ; aflfection, 22, 27, 30,
999
INDEX.
31. 32, 33, 78, 84, 85, 90, U'J, IGC,
180. 182, 19(!, 201, 204, 208; as
parents, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 23, 24,
31-38, 4(5, 55, 03, (34, Oi), 84, 85,
87, 88, 110, 111, 129, 135, 137,
ir>4-lo5, 15G, 172, 182, 185-18G,
189-193, 215, 217 ; companion-
ship of mates, 22, 26, 27, 30, 31,
42, 4G, 53, 5fi, 59, 02, 81, 83, 87,
89, 90, 106, 109, 126, 141, 142,
145, 106, 177, 178, 180, 182, 196,
204 ; coquettish airs, 33 ; court- I
ship, 31, 90, 101, 148, 149 ; de-
fense of nest, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 25,
45, 46, 47, 57, 58, 86, 91, 92, 115,
124-125, 138, 141, 178, 182, 204-
205, 209 ; excitement wlien young
liatch, 63; family government,
12, 35, 85, 111, 156; friendly
birds shy at nest, 65, GG, 67, 8G,
87, 88, 93, 94, 99, 105, 153, 198,
202, 203 ; — habits of male at
nest : absent, 24, 149-155, 167 ;
brings mate food for young, 32,
63 ; brings material to mate, 50,
52 ; broods, 43, 44, 62 ; builds
while female looks on or goes off
with other females, 199, 200. 203,
204, 207-208 ; feeds mate. 27, 52,
126, 132, 134, 180, 182; feeds
young, 33, 82, 88 ; guards mate,
27, 42, 53, 201 ; helps mate build,
48, 50, 52, 61, 106, 108, 109, 126,
135, 142, 145 ; sings while mate
builds and broods, 22, 26, 30, 31 ,
33, 50, 83, 84, 90, 175, 177, 178 ;
— interval between building and
brooding, 59, 145, 181 ; looking
for nesting sites, 25, 26, 129, 184-
185 ; lordly airs of male, 25, 115,
116, 117, 172, 208, paternal in-
stinct, 31-33, 53, 63, 191, 204,
205 ; persistence in work, 60, 107,
178; reluctance to brood, 43, 44 ;
tenderness to young, 23, 33, 84,
85.
food, — ants, 70; bees, 114, 115;
carrion, 97 ; cocoons, 100 ; go-
phers, 136 ; grubs, 12, 13, 111 ;
insects, 4, 6, 7, 16, 31, 36, 82, 91,
101, 150, 160 ; lizards and toads,
99 ; pepper berries, 197, 198, 201 ;
rats and mice, 137 ; scale, 103 ;
seeds, 93, 102 ; snakes, 132 ;
spiders, 31 ; worms, 12, 13, 57,
-iCA, 182, 185, 186, 190.
flight, 5, 7. 16, 17, 24, 30, 81, 91, i
98, 99, 103, 11.5, 118, 147, 149,
153, 156, 161. 166, 168, 184, 195,
196, 197, 209. I
friendliness when not disturbed,
10, 13, 23, 30, 40, 42, 45, 53, 59, 61,
64, 67, 83, 86, 89, 92, 95, 97, 100.
105, 126, 128,129, 144, 148, 150-
151. 153, 158, 171, 178, 1«0, 182-
183, 185, 186, li)7, 200, 201, 204.
legends about, 11, 105.
local names, — blue jay, C ; bur-
rowing owl, 11; bush-tit, 56;
California towhee, 92.
neighborly relations, 13, 25, 45-48,
49, 57-61. 62, 80, 86, 96, 100, 108.
115, 116, 124, 125, 126, 130, 138,
147, 171-174, 189-193, 204-205,
208-209.
nervousness, 9, 11, 22, 26, 34, 35,
42, 47, 53, 56, 61, 63, 64, 67, 70,
76, 81, 82, 87, 88, 97, 105, 117,
138, 139. 156, IGG, 177, 180, 191,
208, 218.
Blackbird, Brewer's, 86-88, 117, 128.
afraid of a bath, 16.
attacking hawks and owls, 135, 139.
a jolly colony, 123, 124.
building, 124.
common in valley, 92.
curiosity about road-nuiner, 100.
following plow for grubs, 12, 13.
nervousness at nest, 87-88.
nesting sites, 86, 124.
pranks, 124.
repulsing shrike, 124, 125.
ruling dooryard, 86,
Blackbird, Red-winged, 14.
eating grubs in vineyard, 12-13.
following plow. 13.
nesting in marsh, 118.
Blackbird, Rusty, i>G.
Blackbird, Yellow-lieaded,
in vineyard, 13-14.
on mustard, 14.
BIackbird.s, 15. 114. 118, 120.
flocks riding cattle, liogs, and
horses, 14.
Bluebird, Mexican. 187.
nesting site, 185.
second nest, 186.
Blue Jay. See Jay.
Blue Squawker. See Jay.
Brown Chippie. See Towhee, Cali-
fornia.
Bunting, Indigo, 81.
Bunting, Lazuli, 81-83, 123, 189-193.
call, 190.
keeping out of quarrel, 45-46.
nest, 82, 216-217.
nesting .site, 27, 82, 216.
song, 6, 44, 83, 117.
taking insects to nest, 82.
young fed by wren-tit. 189, 190.
Bush-tit, California, 28. .56, 59, 103-
111, 117. 161. 162, 166.
building, 105-107. 108, 110, 184.
call notes, 109, 110.
fxnj'jx
coininoii bird, 103.
destroys olive sonle, U*'3.
le){eiiil of fire-riy lumps, 105.
loiiil naiiH'. ."»»;.
nest, 1m;}, VM, lO.'i.
nesting site, lo;;.
nest roof falls in. lUC.
second nest better built, IdT, Id'.t.
snake in nest. Ids.
Hntcherbird. See Slirike.
BntterHies, migrating, ItJd.
California, southern, 147.
colors, '2V2.
marsh in, 118.
natural irrigation. 21.
skv, f>7.
Canello, _'.
afraid of boggy land, Mexican.s,
and rattlesnakes, "J ;!, r_'7-l'J8.
indifferent to water snakes, 1.").
made nervous by luunmiugbird, 7.
miring, 17-11).
visiting feathered tenants with,
l'23-13i».
Chaparral, 5, G, ."., 01, 04, UK), 103-
104, 1.7J, 1(17, 197, -JUl.
Chaparral cock. See Road-runner.
Chat, long-tailed, 103.
Chewink. See Towliee.
Chickadee, 103. 170.
Coast Mountains, 1, 4, 0. lo, KtJ, 104,
IIJ, 113.
valley in, 1, '_', 4, 5. 'JO. 112.
at morning, "i, liS, 112, 137.
in evening, lil, 101, 102, 121, 122.
under moonlight, 102.
Coyote wolves,
barking, 01, 102.
cliasing a dog, 110.
in eucalyptus, 214.
Crow,
killed bee-bird, 02.
nest, 212.
Dove, Mourning, 21, 118, 141, 131,
ICO, 210.
a gentle pair, 100.
brooding, 07.
friendliness, 42, 4.".
nest, 210.
n«'8ting sitfi, 40, lOti. 2
I>erche8, 57, 100.
superior airs of male, 110, 117.
timidity, 41, 42.
trailing, 21.j.
Kagle, 13.
Egret, White, 17.
Finch, WeHtern House, 117, liUl.
avoids ."jhriku neighborhood, 12G.
bathing, 10.
courtship, OO.
conunon birds. 02.
discussions, 28.
examining wren's nest, 2.'>.
implicated in tragedy, 171-171
nesting sites, 00, %,'l72, ISO.
songs, 00.
stealing wren's material, 171.
using swallow's nest, 00.
Flicker, Red-shafted, i:}(;-137, 100.
building, 130.
nesting .site, 27, 130.
notes, 13(!.
works as if wound up, 130.
Flowers and Plants,
blue sage, 01, 147.
chilicothe, 108.
dodder, 80-JK).
' tiy flower,' 100.
forget-me-not, 128.
mallow, 128.
mustard, 14, 07, 110. 123, 127, 147.
on border of pond, 15.
poison oak, 107.
' poppy,' lt">0.
primrose, 00, 147.
wild celery, 120.
wild gooseberry, 147.
Flycatcher, 140.
in chaparral, 0.
Fog, 19, 08, 101, 112.
GoldHnch, 21, 44, 104, 215. 219.
feeding, 7.
nest, 23.
nest destroyed, 27.
nesting site, 184, 180.
note, 215.
Gnatcatcher, Western, 38-04. 81,
1-23, 101, 205.
building, 48-f^), 01,02.
calls, 43, 44, 4.5.
comical parents, r>3, 04.
defending nest, 45, 57, 58.
egg broken by wren-tit, 41!.
eggsliell carried away, 40.
feeding young in new way, 03-
G4.
jaunty nervous manners, 38, 39,
40, 41, 44, .50, <;3.
ne.st, 30, 41, 00. 10)8.
nesting site, 30, 48, 00, 01, 107.
nest moved, (iO.
spelling each other, 43, 44, 02.
talkative, 41.
Oophers, 70, 130.
Grosbeak, Black-headed,
migrants, 8, 58.
song, 170.
Grosbeak, Blue, 120.
224
INDEX.
Haiipbird. Sec Busli-tit.
Hawk, Buteo, buikliiig, 13").
more likely to eat gopliers than
birds, lai;.
Hawk, Fish, lo.
Hawk, Sparrow, lol-KJo, loll.
chased by bee-bird, 91.
nesting site, 131.
snakes for breakfast, 132.
too small a front door, 131-134.
Hawks, 1«, 8G.
Heron, Green, 17.
Lark, Horned,
on roadsides, 10,
song, 10.
Horse, as help in observing, 3-4,
125, 201-204.
How-do-you-do Owl. See Owl, Bur-
rowing.
Hunnningbird, 147, ISU.
Hummingbird, Black-chinned. 23-25,
147-158, IGl, 202, 217-219.
around flowers by house, 88.
attacking hor.se and rider, 7.
building, 149-155.
call, 153.
courtship dance, 149.
enter house, 89.
feeding from primroses, 159.
feeding young, 23, 24, 155, 217.
help in cross-fertilization, 150.
nest, 23.
nest destroyed, 20.
nesting sites, 23, 89, 130, 147-148,
155, 158, IGl, 217-218.
perch, 57, 167.
probing tobacco-tree flowers, 88.
tremulous moulding, 152.
Hunmiingbird, Rufous, 147.
around wild goosebeiTies, 147, 108.
song, 108.
Irrigation, natural, 21, 38, 159-100.
Jay, California, 59, 01, 84-85, 105,
123, 100, 101.
disciplining young, 85.
frightening small birds, 28, 58, 60,
84, 141.
local name, 6.
protecting young, 85.
scream, 169, 184.
tender to young, 84, 85.
Kingbird,
Arkansas. See Bee-bird.
Cassiu's. See Bee-bird.
Eastern, 91.
Linnet. See Finch.
Lions, colts killed by, 30.
List of Birds referred to, ix.
List of Illu.strations, vii.
Lizards, as eggers, 28, 150, 200, 203.
Magpie, 51,98.
Jlexican bridle, 3.
Miring, 17-19.
Mockingbird, thrasher's resemblance
to, 0.
Mountain Billy, 20.
a good lope, 42-43, 112.
a narrow escape, 120.
a petted companion, 1(55, 187.
carrying blue gum boughs, 211.
carrying a chair, 60-01.
enjoying blue gum grove, 214, 218.
frightened bj' deer, 28-30.
ignoring snakes, 187-188.
improvhig his time, 68, 69. 114.
inventing a fly brush, 54, 55.
rolling, 165-166.
Mutual help in nature, 150.
Nesting season, date in .'southern
California, 21, 30, 67, 09, 86.
Nests,
broken up, 10, 26, 27, 47, 127, 143,
145, 158, 172, 204, 206, 217.
building, hard work, 56, 60, 107.
building methods, 49-50, 52-54,
82, 107, 108, 109, 127, 135, 130,
142, 150-154,158, 175, 199, 200,
203, 204, 205-200, 207.
defective building (?), 100.
excessive amount of material. 90,
107, 108.
knothole entrance too small, 131.
materials of first ne.st used in
second, 60, 107, 109-110, 154.
moved to safer place, 60, 154.
odd situations, 9, 95, 130, 171.
protective coloration, 82, 90, 144,
150.
rapid building, 108, 206.
second, 48 (?), 60, 107, 154, 186.
snakes in, 108.
third (?), 60.
time taken to build, 60.
unusual materials, 14, 89, 90.
Observing, 1, 2, 40, 60-61, GO, 67,
68, 81, 82, 109, 114, 123, 130, 135,
139, 141, 166, 195, 19G, 197, 198,
201-205, 215.
assisting in nest building, 97, 109-
110, 175-183.
delight of finding a new bird, 13.
proportion of birds identified with-
out a gun, 2, 140.
temptations in, 92, 93, 194.
Odeii Canyon, 1.59-100.
Oregon Robin, 20.
J \ />/■:. \
Oriol.-. JT. UU. i:^'. l.l.
()ri«>l<', Arizona Hootlod,
liiiiltliii^, <V>'.
Ori..l.-, HullockM. ICJ.
iittiickiiiK i"> i>^*li '••'•'•
IK'«t, 117.
NOiiK rii^;llt , ls4.
Owl. lo.".. JLV-'IC.
;kHleep ill will low. 1;;7.
iliet of rats and miff. liiT.
hilling in wells aiul mining? slialts,
1:J7. \SA.
Owl. li;»rn,
an old fi-one. i:'.'.'.
nt'stinn sitf. KV.t.
Owl. Burrowing', ll'>, -I-'-
battk's witli a lollie, 11. 1-'.
fefilinj; youiiK. I't •-•
nest uot'shared with rattlesnakes,
11.
screws head ott, 1 1 .
Owl, Western Horned,
devices to protect yoiuij^, S, 'J.
mobl)ed by neighbors, 138.
I'cwee. Wood, lOl-lCJ.
building, .^7. "iK, C.l.
nesting site, ."<7, liO.
nest moved, fid.
perch, t>"J, U;i.
riiainopepla, l'.t4-i;H).
a distinguished bird. KU.
building (done by male), iWlt, Jd.'!,
•J(>4. •-'(•.">, -JOG.
call. liC.
eating pepper berries in door-yard,
l'J7.
nest, •_'0.'».
nesting site, VM.
song, -O't.
Phobe, Black, 11."^, l'JS-i:iO, l.S'J,
brooding under a pump, I'J'J.
in the hen-house, ILM).
nest, 13<l.
nesting site, 117, 1J.S-1'JI», 130.
Pipit, .\merican, It!.
Pond, made by spring rains,
rendezvous of birds, 5, 14-17.
Poor-will, Dusky,
call, 1(11 l(i_'.
tlycatching, lOl.
Quail, Valley,
call, 5.
flight of covey, 'M.
in chaparral, rc>.
in vineyard, 7;5.
tracks, 4.'S.
Kabbit,
cottont-iil, m, lis, 1(,4.
jack, 5, '_"J, 'J4-U5, 07.
iioad-ruim.r, '.ts-jnl.
around ntnch-houM-. KNI
ilrowned in wiuduiili tank.',, Ml
eating with bens, 100.
rieetuess, '.ts.
hunting c<m'oous, Hki.
love call, KM.
nest, O'.t. •Jir..
Kobiu, S, '.)-.
Shrike, White-rumped, 1*24- l'J7, VIS.
absence of birds in neighborhood,
PJd.
building, l'J.'>, 1J(;-127.
gentle at nest, \~3, I'iti.
invading blackbird premises, 1J4-
rJ5.
nest, \2'>.
nesting site, l-'.'), l'J7.
Snakes.
gopher. 43. 71, IJO, l.s7-18«.
rater, lOS.
rattle, 4:'.. I'JO, IJl, JOu.
ringed, r»."».
water, 1.").
Sparrow, 1").
Sparrow, Golden-crow ned, U'>.
Sparrow, Song, 'Jl, -_', 117.
nest, S3-S4.
young, 83.
Sparrow, White-crowned. 1('>, lOi.
Squirrels, ground. 11.
Swallow, lUi.
Swallow, Eave,
drinking on wing, 17.
getting nuid for nests, lti-17.
nests on .sycamore, 114.
Tanager, Louisiana, '27
a brilliant stranger, i:'>l.
Thrasher, California, IC.J-HU.
digtiing with sickle-shaped bill, 1G3-
ICA.'
in cha|)arral, 0.
.song, (J, H;9.
straight bills of yoiuig. li>4.
Titmouse, Plain. 141, 1S4, 17.1-183.
building, 17.".-1S-.'.
gladly accepts feathers, 177.
needs no hor.sehair or .straw, 17'.>-
ISI.
nesting sites, 17.").
song. 175.
Tit, Wren-, 57, C^i, f.-J, ls".»-l'.i:t.
breaking up gnatcatcher's nest,
4.'), 4('., 4M.
skulking manners, 4'.l, .V.l.
song, )!, 1 (!'.).
usurping a mother's rights, 1S9-
VXl.
Towhee, California. 'JS. 4<;. 47, 57,
58, 51), 'Jr^-'J't, 1G3, ISII, -MK
•226
INDEX.
rail note, ".•'-.
e-oiiinion and tame, IVJ.
nesting, 1*3, 1)4.
shy at nest, 'J3-II4.
song, 93.
Towhee, Green-tailed, Wl-h<o.
Towhee, Spurred," 18, IGO, IGJ.
singing, lO'J.
Trade wind, G8-l>y.
Trees.
acacia, 181).
elder, 1.').
eucalvptns. 'Jlt-^JO ; character of,
•Jlo-'J14, 'JlD-'iilO ; grove, 211-
•JJO ; raised for fuel, "211.
live-oaks, 5, G, 21, 8ti, 159-170;
garden of, 139-1(;0, 170 ; sapped
by mistletoe, lfi7.
pepper, 197.
sycamore, l.j, 21, 24-2.J, G7, G8 ;
the big, 112-122, 159.
tobacco, 88.
willow, 123.
Turkey Buzzard. See Vulture.
Turtle Dove. See Dove.
Twin Oaks Canyon, 5-G, 159.
Ughland Canyon, 21, 38, 123, 159.
Vineyard, birds eating grubs in, 12-
13.
Vireo, Button's, 140-14G.
a devoted pair. 142.
building, 142. 145.
call note. 145.
fond of nest, 143. 145.
nest. 144.
nesting site, 141. 144.
Vireo, Least.
song, G, 44. 169.
Vireo, Warbling, 27, 59.
building, 56.
scolding jay, GO.
Vulture, Turkey, 16, 97-98, 162.
circle over fighting .snakes, 97.
eating woodpecker, 70.
eating skunk, 201.
queer attitude, 98.
scavenger, 97.
soaring, 97, 98.
Warbler, 160.
migrants, 6, 7, 123.
Waxwing, 69.
Whip-poor-will. See Poor-will.
Woodpecker, California, 05-80, 81,
123.
building, 28.
flycatching, 160.
hunting ground distant from nest,
G9.
long intervals in feeding, 69.
lying in wait for prey, 141.
nesting site, 28, 71.
notes, t;9.
old birds poisoned (?), 70.
rescuing the young, 71-73.
young orphans, inherited instincts,
75, 76, 78, 79 ; notes, 78.
Woodpecker, Red-headed, GG, 69.
Wood rat,
in chaparral, 55.
Wren, 9-10.
Wren, Vigors's, 170-174.
linnets quarreling over materials,
171.
ne.sting site, 171.
young buried alive by linnets (?),
172-174.
Wren, Western House, 20-37, G5, 67,
69, 81, 84, 112. 117, 123, 160,
219.
building*, 22. 25, 30, 96, 128.
common birds, 95.
feeding young on insects, 31.
nesting takes six weeks, 35.
nests in sycamore holes, 22, 128.
odd nesting sites, 95.
song, 22, 30. 96, 97.
tremulous motion of wings, 30, 33.
Yellow-bird. See Goldfinch.
Young birds,
Bluebird, 185.
Brewer's Blackbird. 87.
Burrowing Owl, 11-12.
Bush-tit, 28. 110. 111.
California Jay. 85.
California Woodpecker, 69-80.
feather tracts, 79.
fed at long intervals, 155.
I fed on insects, 31, 36, 76, 82.
first flights, 36, 73-74. 88, 156.
Guatcatchers. 63-64.
Horned Owl, 9.
Hunmiingbird, 23, 24, 88, 155-157,
217, 219.
interest in each other, 78, 79.
Laziili Bunting. 189-193, 217;
; adopted by wren-tit, 189-193.
1 Mourning Dove, 47.
' Owl, 137.
Sparrow Hawk, 135 ; subdued on
leaving nest, 36 ; time kept in
nest, 69.
\ Titmouse, 182-183.
Vigors's Wren, 171, 172. 174.
I Western House Wren, 33-37.
INDEX TO TLLT'STKATTOXS.
Bee-birds, lo.
bliukbird, Brewer's. KI.
Biintiiigs, Lazuli (.uld and young),
KS'J.
Bush-tits (birds and nest), 1(>4.
Bush-tit (nest in oak), 108.
Chewink, California (bead), 'X'>.
Chewink, Eastern (bead), X',.
Chewink, Green-tailed (liead), \(\?>.
Kucalyi)tu8 Avenue, showiuR i>ol-
larded trees, 'jl'_*.
Eucalyi)tus "Wood stored for Market
in a Eucalyptus Grove, 'J14.
Gnatcatrber, Western (birds and
nest), .'ill.
Gros))eak, BIa<-k-beaded (liead), S.
GroKl>eak. Rose-breasted (liead), S.
Hiunniingbird, Blaok-chinned (nest),
ir.T.
Huinndngbird, Black-obinned (on
nest). 14S.
Mountain Billy Deserted. "JJO.
Mountain Biily under tlie Gnat-
catcher's Oak, frontispiece.
Oaks, Live, If-O.
Oriole, Arizona Hooded (bead). 8'.».
Oriole, Baltimore, Eastern (bead), s'.'.
Phainopepla's Nest in Oak Brush,
lltS.
Pliainopeplas on Pepper-tree, l'.t4.
Pb.ebe, Black (bead), iJ'.t.
Plnebe, Eastern (li<'a<l), I'JI".
Quail, Valley, W.
Iload-nuiner. O'.l.
Sycamores, Along the Line of, V2i.
Sycamore, Tiie Big, 114.
Titmouse, Plain (at nest), 1T(">.
Valley in Coast Mountains. 4.
Woodpecker. California, (bead). CCi.
Woodpecker, California (young). TM.
Woodpecker, Red-headed, Eastern
(liead), ('.(;.
Wren-tit, IS't.
Wren, Vigors's (at nest), \~'.\.
Wren, Western House, ;V_'.
Wren, Western House (singing), 'JO.
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