The Cactus Owl or Elf Owl. Only about the size of a spar- 

 row, it feeds mostly on insects and lives in holes made in 

 the cactuses by woodpeckers. 



it nonexistent. It is at night that one may see it, and there is 

 nothing more interesting than then to find a quiet spot, sweep it 

 free of thorns before dark, and lie there on a blanket or tar- 

 paulin and wait. One should place at some distance various 

 baits, such as handfuls of grain in piles, scraps of meat tied to 

 low but tough bushes by short strings, and piles of freshly 

 watered green vegetables. As the painted sky fades slowly to a 

 soft heliotrope, many small movements will be heard all around 



and eventually more than likely the sound of rapid munching. 

 You may then switch on your previously focused lights and even 

 start to move about a little, for once the denizens of this par- 

 ticular wilderness have found an unexpected pile of delectable 

 food, they often throw all caution to the winds and just eat. 

 What is more, predators may be tugging at the meat while the 

 prey they should be hunting sits munching contentedly not more 

 than a dozen feet away. 



There are, of course, lesser folk in the deserts, and it is at night 

 that they too are about. One must be very war)' of not a few of 

 these. Just as the desert supports an unusual number of obnox- 

 ious plants armed with spines, hooks, and irritants — such as the 

 ghastly Chechem tree of the Southern Scrub Belt of Yucatan, 

 mentioned earlier, which can produce second-degree bums on 

 human flesh — so also does it seem to favor poisonous animals. 



DANCING JACKS 



Two of us once spent an afternoon with these engaging animals. 

 Our objectives were for one of us to photograph cactuses, which 

 were then in bloom, while the other was to collect beetles. 

 The first entailed a certain amount of wandering about, for, 

 although cactuses covered the earth for miles, to find the partic- 

 ular one wanted in good light and location called for patience 

 and some ingenuity. Beetle-collecting is easier. Beetles are every- 

 where on land, in an uncounted profusion of species and indi- 

 viduals, many of them tiny, and you can collect them simply by 

 sprawling on a blanket spread almost anywhere. The ground 

 around this, if raked over and examined carefully with a lens, 

 will usually yield enough material to keep you occupied for half 

 a day. 



As we trudged over the arid ground looking for a place where 

 enough different cactuses warranted photography, jack rabbits 

 of monumental dimensions kept popping up, loping leisurely 

 away for a few yards, and then sitting down behind some 

 minute bush. One particularly large one, which walked rather 

 solemnly en its rakish legs somewhat like a newborn lamb, 

 stayed just ahead of us until we found a good spot. Then I spread 

 my blanket, and my partner set up his cameras. The jack watched 

 these oper^-tions with an air of sagacity from a distance of only 

 about ten yards. As we concentrated on our jobs, the animal 

 loped off and first went to watch the photography. After circling 

 around and sitting up with its immense ears at the alert and 

 satisfying its curiosity there, it came toward me by a series of 

 cautious approaches and long pauses — but always on the alert. 



As I was prone and hidden in a small dell, I ceased beetle- 

 collecting and just watched. The animal first came up and 

 observed me keenly. looking me straight in the eyes, which is 

 most unusual for any animal, let alone a wild one. It then walked 

 solemnly off to my right and beyond my vision. I dared not turn 

 my head lest I disturb it, so I remained quiet, waiting for it to 

 circle me and appear from my left. Imagine my surprise, there- 

 fore, when, after about two minutes, I felt something tugging 

 gently at my right foot, followed by a sound like an electric 

 coffee-grinder starting up. I could no longer resist turning my 

 head, and there sat the jack munching on a fair-sized bite from 

 my blanket. But my movement caused him to make only two 

 leisurely hops to the shade of a creosote bush, where he sat 

 down and continued to munch. Nor did he move when my com- 

 panion approached and took his picture close up. We sat down 

 to watch. 



In a short time another jack appeared, and the first one got 

 up instantly and thumped on the ground. We thought we were 



266 



