THE CALIFORNIA ROAD-RUNNER 9 



as he often does after getting acquainted, 

 into the yard to share a bit of grain with the 

 barn fowls. 



Last night I threw out a whole panful of 

 "left-overs' 1 to the birds and antelope chip- 

 munks. This morning almost before daylight 

 there were signs of trouble in the yard. When I 

 went out to see what was up, I found Betsy 

 Bounce, the rock wren, and half a dozen of 

 her feathered kindred sitting around on rocks 

 close by, vigorously scolding and uttering notes 

 of protest while they saw the morsels they so 

 much wanted gobbled up by a road-runner. 

 Playing the bully, he had stationed himself in 

 the center of the supply, and was paying no 

 more attention to their rounds of scolding than 

 to their nervous fidgetings. Only when he had 

 picked up every crumb did he desist eating. 

 Then with an indifferent air he ran down the 

 trail, mounted his favorite perch an old 

 mesquite hitching-post and began puffing 

 out his feathers. 



The pasiano's appetite is as queer as his looks. 

 He eats everything you would not expect a bird 

 to eat. Seemingly bent on testing the edibility 



