132 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



clover under their tree, so he allowed me to watch 

 the birds in peace. The first day the male spar- 

 row hawk flew to the tree with what looked like a 

 snake dangling from his bill, and as he alighted 

 screamed kit-ldtfar* r f r' r 1 , spreading his wings 

 and shaking them with emphasis. When this 

 brought no response, he flew from branch to 

 branch, crying out lustily. He revolved around 

 the end of a broken limb in whose small hollow 

 was framed the head of Madame Falco. From 

 her height she looked like a rag doll at her win- 

 dow. Her funny round face, which filled the 

 doorway, had black spots for bill and eyes, and 

 dark lines down the cheeks that might have 

 simulated rag doll tattooing. 



Evidently there was some reason why she did 

 not want to come to breakfast. Once she 

 started to turn back into the nest, but at last 

 laboriously wedged her way out of the hole and 

 flew to a branch. Her mate was at her side in 

 an instant, and handed her the snake. She took 

 it greedily and flew off with it, let us hope 

 because she was afraid of me, not because she 

 did not want to divide with him, or thought he 

 would ask her to, after all his devotion and 

 patience ! 



When the bird went back to her nest, her 

 hesitation about leaving it was explained. For 

 a long time she sat on a limb near by with tail 

 bobbing, apparently trying to make up her mind 



