THE AMERICAN CRANES. 135 



believer in the rose business, and as soon as the 

 desert begins to blossom he is done with it 

 forever. 



On the Pacific coast the sand-hill crane was 

 once very abundant. Stupendous flocks dotted 

 the plains and slopes in winter. Far and wide 

 where the sunlight played upon a thousand 

 shades of green they stood upon the rising 

 knolls, now blue, now almost white, according 

 to the play of light, but always watching for 

 danger. By night their rolling notes fell from 

 the stars with unearthly vibration, and by day, 

 with broad wings and long necks outstretched, 

 they floated across the blue dome with such easy 

 grace and so high above all other birds that they 

 seemed to belong rather to heaven than earth. 



Some of the finest shooting here used to be in 

 San Jos Del Valle, an old Mexican grant of 

 fifty thousand acres lying three thousand feet 

 above the sea and about sixty miles northeast of 

 San Diego. 



It was about half open valley and half rolling 

 slope, partly covered with thin chemisal mixed 

 with juniper and bush live-oak, but on the more 

 level portions was plenty of grass with large 



