° 'i9i0 J Bailey, Wild Life of an Alkaline Lake. 427 



birds not addicted to mineral water. Rich dark Bluebirds, the 

 Chestnut-backed, in their fresh fall dress drank from the pools and 

 perched in the pine trees, a large flock of Robins came flying into 

 our sunlit cottonwoods one morning, and for two days a flock of 

 cheery Siskins drank and bathed in the pools and sang in the 

 sunny tree tops above them. House Finch notes were heard and 

 Audubon Warblers were seen dashing about as distractedly as 

 ever, Chickadees and Pygmy Nuthatches were in the cottonwoods, 

 and Juncos hunting over the ground, while Pileolated Warblers 

 delighted our eyes by flashes of gold among the bushes. INIagpies 

 were often seen of a morning sitting in the sun talking and half 

 singing a contented warble. 



All these birds belonged to the day shift, but at sunset the night 

 shift of owls began work. On a tree overlooking the tule-bordered 

 lake we found a Great-horned Owl just waking up for his day's 

 work when night was coming on, the sky behind the black hills 

 having deepened from yellow to orange, the water in the lake 

 having the cold steely light of night, only a touch of sunset warmth 

 being left in small rosy cloudlets mirrored on the surface. One of 

 the large nocturnal hunters visited our camp. His scream was 

 heard from the cliff above us when, having hunted in the passes 

 for the sunset shift of ducks, we were eating a belated supper. As 

 we raised our eyes he came flying over on great widespread wings, 

 lighting almost above our heads in a big cottonwood whose trunk 

 stood out black against the rich yellow sunset light; and there he 

 sat like a black statue, his dark body and high ears against the 

 yellow sky, screaming in falsetto while we gazed at him. Dis- 

 covering us, he retreated a little, but attracted it may be by our 

 blazing camp fire lingered near. Indeed, camp had become quiet 

 for the night before his cry, the falsetto scream so often attributed 

 by terrified campers to the mountain lion, growing fainter and 

 fainter died out in the distance. At another camp at dusk we 

 caught sight of one of the Great-horned Owls perched on the mast- 

 like top of a dead pine. As he hooted, he tipped up his tail and 

 dropped his wings, making a most animated figure. Still another 

 of the owls was discovered one night facing the rising full moon. 

 Did he prize it for his work, we wondered, as did other mam- 

 malogists? 



