WATER TRAILS OF THE CERISO 



their morning drink. About the time the 

 burrowers and all that feed upon them are 

 addressing themselves to sleep, great flocks 

 pour down the trails with that peculiar 

 melting motion of moving quail, twitter- 

 ing, shoving, and shouldering. They splat- 

 ter into the shallows, drink daintily, shake 

 out small showers over their perfect coats, 

 and melt away again into the scrub, preen- 

 ing and pranking, with soft contented 

 noises. 



After the quail, sparrows and ground- 

 inhabiting birds bathe with the utmost 

 frankness and a great deal of splutter; and 

 here in the heart of noon hawks resort, sit- 

 ting panting, with wings aslant, and a truce 

 to all hostilities because of the heat. One 

 summer there came a road-runner up from 

 the lower valley, peeking and prying, and 

 he had never any patience with the water 

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