The Audubon Societies 



337 



salvation of the birds, for it furnished them 

 nesting- and sleeping-places safe from 

 owls and other night-prowlers. 



The end of bird, beast, or reptile in the 

 desert is usually tragic. There is no peace- 

 ful old age. A moment's lack of alertness 

 is fatal. The lizard watches to get some 

 unsuspecting fly or to rob an unguarded 

 nest, but he must always have his eyes 

 open to dart for cover, or he will be snapped 

 up by a keen-eyed Road-runner. The 

 Verdin, the Linnet, and the Gnatcatcher, 

 must be on the lookout for hawks, and, 

 if pursued, must dart for the cover of a 

 choUa; but there the least error in judg- 

 ment may pin him to a death of torture. 



One day, as we were passing along a 

 little gully, I saw what appeared to be a 

 small bunch of grass or roots caught on the 

 bare limb of a cat's-claw. I went closer, 

 and saw a small, round hole in the side. 

 In a few moments came a tiny, olive-gray 

 bird, yellow on the neck and head, with a 

 chestnut patch on the shoulder. He was 

 about the same size as, and I could see bj' 

 his actions that he was a cousin of, the 



PALMER'S THRASHER AT HOME 



\M^ YOUNG 



Chickadee. This was our introduction to 

 the Verdin. 



I was not accustomed to seeing a nest 

 hung out on a plain, bare branch, with not 

 a leaf to hide it; but the Verdin didn't have 

 much choice of sites, for there was nothing 

 for a mile around except cactus, creosote, 

 and cat's-claw. The best a Verdin can do 

 for self-protection is to make her home look 

 like a little bundle of drift, roof the houso 

 with thorns, and make the doorway on the 

 under side. 



This bird, which I took to be the fe- 

 male, had a morsel in her bill. She hopped 

 into the house and was quickly out again 

 and off on the hunt, pajdng no attention 

 to us. We sat down about fifteen feet 

 away. In a few moments the male Verdin 

 came headlong with a mouthful of green 

 measuring-worms. He brought up with a 

 surprised jerk and fidgeted as if he didn't 

 know just what to do. He was evidently 

 saying to himself, "Who are they? What 

 do they want?" He came to the conclu- 

 sion he would fool us, so he swallowed the 

 bit and went hunting through an adjoining 

 bush to show us that he was merely skir- 

 mishing to appease his own appetite, and 

 that he had neither nest nor children. 



