Pra ir ie Horned La rk. 11 



slopes, roadsides, and neglected spots where seed-bearing 

 weeds are standing above the snow. Gravelly regions 

 and sandy flats and ridges are visited by them at con- 

 venient seasons, as such places furnish them materials 

 which assist them to masticate their food. 



Bo not imagine that these vivacious creatures never 

 discover any inclination to visit the villages and towns. 

 Their charming notes can be heard in the villages as the 

 birds, usually in small scattered groups, fly over in passing 

 from one locality to another. During severe winter 

 weather a little company of these birds will sometimes 

 enter the larger villages or the suburbs of cities, and 

 sojourn in the streets of a certain quarter to glean their 

 living from the refuse of the highways. At such times 

 they are quite fearless, and will only reluctantly give 

 place to passing vehicles, often flying ahead of the horses 

 for a short distance and alighting, and flying back toward 

 the place from which they were first driven when again 

 disturbed. In the road they can be observed with advan- 

 tage and they are easily identified, for the colors of the 

 mourning dove largely predominate in their plumage, and 

 the little tuft of black feathers projecting backward over 

 the ear validates their claim to the title of horned larks. 



My first knowledge of the fact that the horned larks 

 occasionally visit the towns was acquired one night of a 

 recent winter, when I walked to the public square of my 

 home village about seven o'clock in a swirl of snow, the 

 storm having raged since noon. I fancied that I fre- 

 quently heard the notes of the larks, and inferred that 

 the birds were flying from the lash of the driven flakes. 

 When 1 drew near the more brightly-lighted portion of 

 the village, however, I could catch occasional glimpses of 

 the forms of the birds, and I discovered that they were 

 flitting above the electric lights and were reveling in the 

 light and warmth of the town as blithely as though they 

 were in the breath and brilliance of a spring morning. 

 Wise creatures, thought I, who prefer the air tempered 

 by the draughts from the chimneys of the scattered houses 

 to their nooks in ravines and sheltered weed patches. 

 Through the long evening I watched them, and even 

 when I retired after nine o'clock they were still flitting 



