AN IDLE AFTERNOON 219 



Looking and dreaming, the bird-gazer within 

 me pretty well laid asleep, suddenly I heard a 

 strange voice in the air, thin, insect-like, unknown. 

 By the time it had sounded twice the sleeper was 

 wide-awake, with his opera-glass in play. The 

 voice came from yonder thin clump of creosote 

 bushes. Yes, the bird flits into sight a gnat- 

 catcher ; and being a gnatcatcher, with such a 

 note, it must be " the other one," known as the 

 plumbeous, which I have been looking for ever 

 since my arrival in Tucson. And so it was a 

 pretty creature with a jaunty black cap. I shall 

 know him henceforth, I hope, even without see- 

 ing him. We are fortunate, both of us, I take 

 leave to say, to have made each other's acquaint- 

 ance on so ideal an afternoon. 



The gnatcatcher disappeared, and the dreamer 

 was just dozing off again, when two large birds 

 were seen to be having a hot encounter, high 

 overhead. This time the field-glass came into re- 

 quisition. A raven was teasing a red-tailed hawk, 

 with all a raven's pertinacity and spite. Again 

 and again and again he swooped upon him, while 

 the hawk ducked and turned to avoid the stroke. 

 Why the big fellow, biggest of all our hawks, 

 larger and stronger in every way than the raven, 

 did not face his tormentor and lay him out was a 

 mystery. I confess, I should have been glad to 



