A RARE BIRD. 201 



the ground with his back arched and his head 

 down. He nosed around under the bushes, show- 

 ing the white V on his back, exactly like that of 

 our eastern species. As I rode home, five turkey 

 buzzards were flying low over the edge of the 

 island, and one vulture rose from a meal of one 

 of the little black and white animal's relatives, 

 but I saw nothing more of my birds that day. 



The next day the phainopeplas came again 

 to the pepper-trees and ate their fill while I sat 

 on the steps watching. The male was quite un- 

 concerned, but when his mate flew near me, he 

 called out sharply ; he could risk his own life, but 

 not that of his love. Again the pair flew back to 

 the high oaks on the far side of the island. All 

 my hopes of the first low inaccessible nest van- 

 ished. I had driven the birds away. My intru- 

 siveness had made me lose the best chance of the 

 whole nesting season. But I would try to follow 

 them. It did not seem necessary to take Billy. 

 There were only a few trees on that side of the 

 island, and it would be a simple matter to locate 

 the birds. I would walk over, find in which tree 

 they were building, and spend the morning with 

 them. I went. Each oak was encircled by a 

 thick wall of brush, over which it was almost im- 

 possible to see more than a fraction of the tree, 

 and the high oak tops were impenetrable to eye 

 and glass. After chasing phantoms all the after- 

 noon I went home with renewed respect for Billy 



