292 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 
make any use of, it is simply idle industry. As 
a rule, birds are not such thriftless creatures. I 
had no opportunity of watching the birds in acorn- 
time—hence this storing is still to me a mystery 
that needs further explanation. 
I came suddenly on a flock of yellow-headed 
blackbirds (Xanthocephalus icterocephalus), sit- 
ting on a clump of bushes skirting a small pool. 
As they sit amidst the bright-green foliage, they 
remind me of blossoms; the intense black of 
the body-plumage shows out so conspicuously 
against the orangelike yellow of the head, that 
the colours seem too defined for a bird’s livery, 
and more like the freaks of colouring Nature 
indulges in when tinting orchideous flowers. 
I imagine this to be their utmost range north- © 
wards, for I never saw them after, although they 
are frequent visitors to Texas, Illinois, and 
Mexico. Strike the trail of a grizzly, follow it 
for some distance, but fail in coming up with 
my large-clawed friend. 
May 26th.—I find I shall have to ferry the Des 
Chutes river. Send on four of my men ahead, 
to collect timber foraraft. Find, on arriving at 
the river-bank, that a heap of dry timber has 
been collected. With axes and an augur—and 
here let me advise all who travel with pack- 
