:::::::=i»x THE MAGIC POOLS 



the Mexican to the other side of the tree, the Iguanas 

 would forget our presence and think only of the mov- 

 ing figure beneath them. As the boy passed to the 

 other side, a dozen shapeless forms would revolve slowly 

 upon the branches toward us. 



It was startling, to say the least, when watching for 

 the first arrivals of the evening, to see a huge black 

 apparition shoot through the air, limbs and toes wide 

 stretched, to land with a crashing flop into some thick 

 bush. No wonder Pterodactyls and birds evolved early 

 from an ancient reptilian stem, if such recklessness 

 inspired them ; such trust in a medium through which 

 they must, at first, have fallen with as leaden a drop as 

 did these Iguanas ! 



Cormorants and teal now at the end of day flew 

 downstream with steady rapid w^ing-beats and the swal- 

 lows disappeared suddenly, going early to roost. The 

 last butterfly and wasp reluctantly left the pools, 

 driven by the cool breeze which began to drift down 

 with the stream from the cold mountain-tops. The 

 quaver of trogons was heard, coming from the upper 

 arroyo to drink and then to roost in the feathery masses 

 of downy, white clematis. Canyon Wrens quenched 

 their thirst and the cool water cleared their throats for 

 a few minutes of sleepv, silvery notes — the merest hint 

 of next morning's chorus. 



The first bat flitted past and — strange custom for 

 such creatures — clambered down a steep rock and 



«4 215 ^ - 



