366 Stafford, Notes on Palmer's Thrasher. [^f^jy 



about in the vicinity of the chollas, though not yet to them, singing 

 and purring softly to each other. One sat just beyond a bush in 

 front of me, on the ground, for ten or more minutes. It was still 

 so light that I contented myself with glances through nearly closed 

 lids. However the birds seemed oblivious of my presence — in- 

 deed accepted it as an inanimate feature of the place, and I was 

 quite prepared to have one light upon my head as readily as on 

 the nearby post. I fancied at times, however, that they were 

 watchful. 



" At length I heard them enter the chollas close at hand, uttering 

 low notes; and then silence. I looked and saw one perched 

 crouched, I think on a certain de-spined branch above the nest. 

 The other I could not see. For a half hour the bird sat, facing 

 the sunset, and motionless, and I could see its long curved beak 

 and slim body outlined against the sky. As it grew darker I 

 opened my eyes more freely, and I imagined it regarding me the 

 while. At length it moved, and turned about — I thought it had 

 detected me and was on the point of flight — but instead it slid 

 gently down into the big nest and disappeared in its ample cup. 



"After another quarter hour I softly started to rise, hoping to 

 escape without disturbing the sleeping bird, but the other Thrasher, 

 which had meanwhile been perching amidst the ruins of a nest in 

 the second cactus, moved uneasily, and when I stood up both 

 darted out whistling in great fright." I have not been able to 

 make out which one of the pair is honored with the comfortable 

 home nest, and which one makes shift in the unsheltered ruins in 

 the adjacent cactus; or whether there is turn-about. I rather 

 think the female is the favored one, however. 



"After sunset and before sunrise every day a few sharp whistles 

 from the direction of the chollas announced the roost-going and 

 the waking of the Thrashers with precise punctuality. "They 

 come to the yard" say my notes under January 29, "usually in 

 the morning and again toward evening, drinking at the tub or tap, 

 digging in different places, flying from tree to fence post, or roof 

 top, full of ceaseless energy, and alertness. I have no notion where 

 they spend the rest of their time; but they disappear utterly." 



On February 14, I observed signs of courtship in the Thrashers: 

 " One sidled along the fence, and the other followed at a respectful 



