THE CALIFORNIA ROAD-RUNNER 7 



Only twice have I observed him in company 

 with his mate. Sort of a Bedouin is he, a thor- 

 ough son of the desert, and impatient of the 

 restraints of communal life. The accusation of 

 being a vagabond like the shiftless coyote can 

 never be brought against him. On the desert 

 the road-runner exhibits a marked preference 

 for mesquite thickets. He fully realizes what 

 excellent protection the thorny, low-growing 

 trees offer, and once he chooses a clump of 

 mesquites for his "stamping grounds," he 

 seldom leaves the vicinity and may be found 

 there year after year. 



Like a policeman the road-runner apparently 

 has his beats, and any one who watches him day 

 after day will be surprised to note how regular 

 and punctual he is in passing certain points 

 at definite times. An invalid on the Colorado 

 Desert recently called my attention to the fact 

 that a road-runner passed her porch regularly at 

 12.25 o'clock every day for over a week, never 

 varying by more than a minute or two. A 

 gentleman, who some months ago put up a new 

 board fence, tells me that a road-runner now 

 amuses himself almost daily by jumping up on 



