198 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



peplas were at the peppers, I rode on ahead to 

 wait for them at their nest. We had not been 

 there long before hearing the familiar warning 

 call. Turning Billy in the direction of the sound, 

 I threw his reins on his neck to induce him to 

 graze along the way and give our presence a more 

 casual air, while I looked up indifferently as if to 

 survey the landscape. To my delight the phaino- 

 pepla did not seem greatly alarmed, and, throw- 

 ing off the assumed indifference that always 

 makes an observer feel like a wretched hypocrite, 

 I called and whistled to him as I had done at the 

 house, to let him know that it was a familiar 

 friend and he had nothing to fear. The beautiful 

 bird started toward me, but on second thought 

 retreated. I turned my back, but, to my chagrin, 

 after giving a few low warning calls, my bird 

 vanished. Alas, for the generations of murderers 

 that have made birds distrust their best friends 

 — that make honest observers tremble for what 

 may befall the birds if they put trust in but one 

 of the human species ! 



It was plain that if I would get a study of 

 these rare birds I must make a business of it. 

 Slipping from the saddle, I sat down behind a 

 bush and waited. When the bird came back and 

 found the place apparently deserted, to my relief 

 he seated himself on a twig and sang away as if 

 nothing had disturbed his serenity of spirit. But 

 presently the warning call sounded again. This 



