210 TEXAS AND ARIZONA 



will probably grow more ecstatic, though to hear 

 him now, one would not expect him ever to be- 

 come so mad a rhapsodist as the crazy bird that 

 we admire, and sometimes smile at, in the East- 

 ern country. 



Whether the thrasher was seen on the day I 

 am supposed to be describing, I do not now re- 

 member, but in all probability he was, for I never 

 walk far in the desert without seeing or hearing 

 him. If he does not sing, he salutes me with 

 volleys of sharp, whip-snapping whistles in the 

 style of the wood thrush and the robin. Like 

 the wren, he prefers a perch at the top of a cactus. 

 He prefers it, I say; but in truth it is almost 

 Hobson's choice with him, since the topmost 

 spray of a creosote bush, the only other thing 

 he could perch on, would hardly support his 

 weight. There he stands, at all events, perfectly 

 at his ease among the closely set spines, sharp 

 as the sharpest needles, though how he manages 

 the ticklish feat so adroitly is more than I can 

 imagine. 



I may have seen two or three desert sparrows, 

 also ; the black-throated sparrow, that is, with 

 some slight variations, imperceptible in the bush, 

 that make him, in the language of science, Am- 

 phispiza bilineata deserticola; and possibly, 

 though this is somewhat less to be taken for 



