Koo 



261 



cranings of the neck. Our small diurnal mammals whose cages were taken 

 out into the sunshine in the daytime were safe from him although he was caught 

 regarding an antelope squirrel quite keenly one day in passing. Koo's predi- 

 lection for scorpions and other 'varmints,' as they are expressively called, might 

 well have made him a worthy camp watchman when those sleepers roused 

 from their winter slumbers. The big hole in the ground in front of the tent 

 which the University entomologist assured us was only that of a near-tarantula 

 — the same size but gray 

 instead of brown — gave 

 point to Koo's possibilities 

 of usefulness. Even a 

 harmless near-tarantula 

 may be an undesirable 

 tentmate to other than an 

 entomologist. And then 

 there was that eight-inch 

 centipede with needles 

 pointing each claw and ven- 

 omous forceps at its head, 

 met with in the valley, now 

 in the formaldehyde bottle 

 on a shelf of the tent! 

 Surely Koo would be a use- 

 ful camp mascot when 

 spring came! 



But he kept his good 

 deeds to himself until near 

 our departure, when one 

 day he was seen making ex- 

 cited sallies into a dense 

 thicket a few yards from 

 the tent, calling and snap- 

 ping his bill, his wings and 

 tail showing in frantic, hys- 

 terical action in the shadow. 

 After a number of spirited 

 attacks upon the hobgoblin, he appeared to give in and ran up the hill out 

 of sight. The next day a Stephen's Vireo in the mesquite over the spot stopped 

 singing and began to fuss. Then another came, and presently two male 

 Hooded Orioles joined the excited, scolding group, all flying down to the lower 

 branches scanning the ground. Had they discovered Koo's enemy? Focusing 

 my glass on the ground, I discovered a streak of coral slipping over the leaves. 

 At my call the Mammalogist came with his collecting pistol and in a mo- 



COMING DOWN TO CAMP 



