30 IN THE BOCKY MOUNTAINS. 



eyes glowing eagerly, his tail a little spread 

 and standing up at a sharp angle, prepared for 

 instant fight or flight, whichever seemed desir- 

 able. 



I was amused to hear the husky cry with which 

 this bird expresses most of his emotions, about 

 as nearly a " mew," to my ears, as the catbird 

 executes. Whether frolicking with a comrade 

 among the bushes, reproving a too inquisitive 

 bird student, or warning the neighborhood 

 against some monster like a stray kitten, this 

 one cry seemed to answer for all his needs, and, 

 excepting the song, was the only sound I heard 

 him utter. 



Familiar as the chewink might be about our 

 quarters, his own home was well hidden, on the 

 rising ground leading up to the mesa, 



" An unkempt zone, 

 Where vines and weeds and scrub oaks intertwine," 



which no one bigger than a bird could pene- 

 trate. Whenever I appeared in that neighbor- 

 hood, I was watched and followed by anxious 

 and disturbed chewinks ; but I never found a 

 nest, though, judging from the conduct of the 

 residents, I was frequently ''very warm" (as 

 the children say). 



About the time the purple aster began to 

 unclose its fringed lids, and the mariposa lily to 

 unfold its delicate cups on the lower mesa* 



