A RARE BIRD. 195 



smooth and trim, he made me think of a bird of 

 glass perched on a tree. But while I gazed at 

 him he would launch into the air and wing his 

 way high over the valley to the hillsides beyond, 

 leaving me to marvel at the white disks on his 

 wings, hidden when perching, but in air making 

 him suggest a black ship with white sails. 



His appearance was so elegant and his ways so 

 unusual that I went back East regretting I had 

 not given more time to a bird who was so indi- 

 vidual, and resolved that if I ever returned to 

 California my first pleasure should be to study 

 him. When the time finally came, an ornithol- 

 ogist friend who knew my plans wrote, exclaim- 

 ing, " Do study the phainopeplas ! " and added 

 that she felt like making a journey to California 

 to see that one bird. 



From the middle of March till the middle of 

 May I watched and waited for the phainopeplas. 

 There had been only a few of the birds before, 

 and I began to fear they had left the valley. 

 When despairing of them, suddenly one day I 

 saw a black speck cross over to the hills. I 

 wanted to drop my work and follow, but went on 

 with my rounds, and one bright morning on my 

 way home after a discouraging hunt for nests, a 

 pair of phainopeplas flew up right before my eyes 

 almost within sight of the house. I dropped down 

 behind a bush, and in a moment more the birds 

 flew to a little oak by the road — a tree I had 



