100 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



the hillside back of the ranch-house, for one of 

 them was often seen with the hens in the door- 

 yard. One day I was talking to the ranchman 

 when the road-runner appeared. He paid no 

 attention to us, but went straight to the hen- 

 house, apparently to get cocoons. Looking be- 

 tween the laths, I could see him at work. He 

 flew up on the hen-roosts as if quite at home ; he 

 had been there before and knew the ways of the 

 house. He even dashed into the peak of the roof 

 and brought down the white cocoon balls dangling 

 with cobweb. When he had finished his hunt 

 he stood in the doorway, and a pair of blackbirds 

 lit on the fence post over his head, looking down 

 at him wonderingly. Was he a new kind of 

 hen ? He was almost as big as a bantam. They 

 sat and looked at him, and he stood and stared at 

 them till all three were satisfied, when the black- 

 birds flew off and the road-runner walked out by 

 the kitchen to hunt among the buckets for food. 



These curious birds seem to be of an inquiring 

 turn of mind, and sometimes their investigations 

 end sadly. The windmills, which are a new thing 

 in this dry land, naturally stimulate their curios- 

 ity. A small boy from the neighboring town 

 — Escondido — told me that he had known four 

 road-runners to get drowned in one tank ;* though 

 he corrected himself afterwards by saying, " We 

 fished out one before he got drowned ! " 



Another lad told me he had seen road-runners 



