A-Birding on a Bronco

tream 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

y to bestir herself and look to her ornithological squatters; so, day after day I turned my horse toward the ranch and

choruses of the sable hordes moving about my treetops. There was a bee's nest in one of the sycamores, and one day t

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hers 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

t material, stepping along quickly, looking from side to side with an alert, business-like air,

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

ed 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 w

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

ngry and saw some grass he was bent on having, so took the bit in his teeth and made such an obstinate fight

nches flew overhead as if meaning to stop, but saw the shrike and went on. I could hear the merry songs of the assembly down in the sycamores, but not a bird lit while we were there-the shrikes certainly have a bad name among their neighbo

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 a pleasant place to linger in. The sea-breeze was so strong it turned the willow leaves w

happy 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? Howe

rass 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.

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

h?be was perched on the old adobe chimney of the little house, while his mate sat on the board that covered the well, in a way that made it easy to jump to a conclusion. When she flew up to the acacia beside the well and looked down anxiously, I put the pair on my calling list. It did not take many visits to prove my c

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taken the place of the willows, across the road. They even came up to my small ranch-house and filled me with delightful anticipations by inspecting the beams of the piazza; but they could not find what they wanted and flew off to build elsewhere. Later in the season, a neighbor whose ranch w

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 lo

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 fl

it up in Ridgway the stranger proved to be the Louisiana tanager, a high mountain bird. That was a red letter day for me. No one can know, without experiencing it, the delight of such discoveries. The pleasure

ees, 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 sa

ed screamed kit-kit'ar' r' r' r', spreading his wings and shaking them with emphasis. When this brought no response, he flew from branch to branch, crying out lustily. He revolved around the end of a broken limb in whose small hollow was frame

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

er mind to go in. When she did fly up at the hole she could not get in, and half fell down. After this failure she sat down on a branch, her tail tilting as violently as a pip

pery that it gave her nothing to hold to in trying to wedge herself in. She would fly against the hole and attempt to hook her bill over the edge, and so draw herself up, but her shoulders were too big for the space. She tried to make them smaller by draw

ollow. Her mate came a moment after, but she did not even appear in the doorway when he called. Again he came, crying keek' keek' kick-er' r' r', in tender falsetto; but it was no use. Madame Falco had had altogether t

ng a limb to get as close to it as possible, and then quietly flew up. She made two or three unsuccessful attempts to enter, but kept at the branch,-falling back but once. She got half way in

e smothering below? Another day there were two heads in the window; one was the round domed, top of a fluffy nestling whose eyes expressed only vague fear; but the other was the strongly marked head of an old sparrow hawk, who eyed us with keen int

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 gathe

rther 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

ath to turn back inside the dark hole-such a close stuffy place-when outside there were the rich green leaves of the tree, the sweet breath of the hayfield and the gentle breeze just springing up; all the warmth and sunshine and fr

e young too much, that he had found about a dozen small kangaroo rats and mice in their holes! He told me that he had known old owls to change places in the daytime, and both birds to stay in the hole during the day. Down the valley, where an old well was only partly covered over, at different times he had found a number of drowned owls. They se

red 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

e surrounded by a circlet of dark feathers. The light blinded her, and with her big round eyes wide open she leaned down staring to make out who we were. Then shaking her head reproachfully, she swayed solemnly from side to side. As the wind blew against her ragged feathers she drew her wings over her breast like a cloak, making herself look like a poverty-stricken wiseacre. Finding