A RARE BIRD. 205 



he would flatten his crest and dash down indiar- 

 nantly, but for the most part he perched quietly 

 except to make short sallies into the air for in- 

 sects, sometimes singing as he went ; or he just 

 warbled to himself contentedly, what sounded 

 like the chattering run of a swallow on the wing. 

 One day we had quite a conversation. His 

 simplest call note was like the call of a young 

 robin, and while I answered him he gave his 

 note seventeen times in one minute, and eleven 

 times in the next half minute. 



The birds had a great variety of calls and 

 songs, most of which were vivacious and cheering 

 and seemed attuned to the warmth and bright- 

 ness of the California sunshine. The quality 

 of the love song was rich and flute-like. 



The male phainopepla seemed to enjoy life 

 in general and his work in particular. He fre- 

 quently sang to himself when going for material ; 

 and once, apparently, when on the nest. When 

 he was building I could see his black head move 

 about between the leaves. Like the gnatcatchers, 

 he used only fine bits of material, but he did 

 not drill them in as they did. He merely laid 

 them in, or at most wove them in gently. Now 

 and then, as the black head moved in front, the 

 black tail would tilt up behind at the back of 

 the nest as if the bird were moulding ; but there 

 was comparatively little of that. When com- 

 pleted, the nest was a soft felty structure. 



