268 TEXAS AND ARIZONA 



ditches filled with water from the overflow of irri- 

 gated barley fields, he turned back by the way 

 he had come. 



I went home a happy man ; I had added one 

 of the choicest and most beautiful of American 

 birds to my mental collection. One thing was 

 still lacking, however : flycatchers are not song- 

 birds, but the humblest of them has a voice, and 

 having things to say is apt to say them; my 

 new acquaintance had kept his thoughts to him- 

 self. 



This was in the forenoon, and after luncheon 

 I went back to walk again over that muddy road 

 between those ditches of muddy water. The bird 

 might still be there. And he was, still catch- 

 ing insects, and still silent. But so handsome ! 

 At first sight most people, I suppose, would com- 

 pare him, as I did, with the scarlet tanager. The 

 red parts are of nearly or quite the same shade, 

 a little deeper and richer, if anything, 

 while the wings, tail, and back are dark brown, 

 approaching black, the wings and tail espe- 

 cially, dark enough, at any rate, to afford a 

 brilliant contrast. His scientific name is Pyro- 

 cephalus, which is admirable as far as it goes, 

 but falls a long way short of telling the whole 

 truth about him ; for not only is his head of a 

 fiery hue, but his whole body as well, with the 



