198 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



peplas were at the peppers, I rode on ahead to 

 wait for them at their nest. We had not been 

 there long before hearing the familiar warning 

 call. Turning Billy in the direction of the sound, 

 I threw his reins on his neck to induce him to 

 graze along the way and give our presence a more 

 casual air, while I looked up indifferently as if to 

 survey the landscape. To my delight the phaino- 

 pepla did not seem greatly alarmed, and, throw- 

 ing off the assumed indifference that always 

 makes an observer feel like a wretched hypocrite, 

 I called and whistled to him as I had done at the 

 house, to let him know that it was a familiar 

 friend and he had nothing to fear. The beautiful 

 bird started toward me, but on second thought 

 retreated. I turned my back, but, to my chagrin, 

 after giving a few low warning calls, my bird 

 vanished. Alas, for the generations of murderers 

 that have made birds distrust their best friends 

 that make honest observers tremble for what 

 may befall the birds if they put trust in but one 

 of the human species ! 



It was plain that if I would get a study of 

 these rare birds I must make a business of it. 

 Slipping from the saddle, I sat down behind a 

 bush and waited. When the bird came back and 

 found the place apparently deserted, to my relief 

 he seated himself on a twig and sang away as if 

 nothing had disturbed his serenity of spirit. But 

 presently the warning call sounded again. This 



