DESERT BIRD LIFE—-OBERHOLSER. 868 
provision against future need, as might naturally be supposed, for 
seldom does the shrike return to these relics of its former successes 
save only in passing on some new foray. Its nest may be found hid- 
den away in some bush, guarded by a veritable chevaux-de-frise of 
branches and formidable thorns; and if eggs or young are there the 
parent is well-nigh sure to appear close at hand in vigorous defense 
of its own, ofttimes approaching with apparent loss of all fear, 
scolding energetically the while. 
Attractive alike in song, bright dress, and confiding ways, the 
house finch is particularly welcome in the desert. About the cliffs 
and rocky slopes, or among the cottonwoods along the streams, it 
is not less at home than when it comes around the ranch house or 
frequents the streets of the town with all the familiarity of the well- 
known house (English) sparrow. Though thus in some of its habits 
similar, yet it has few of the obnoxious traits of that pest. It builds 
its nest and rears its young about the house, under the eaves of 
sheds or barns, in walls, caves, or in any such place that gives prom- 
ise of requisite convenience. Pleasant indeed it is, at early morn- 
ing, ere the heat of the day has dried up the fountain of action, to 
stroll along at the foot of the rocks down to some tree-sheltered 
spring in the desert, and to hear from all around the many voices 
of the birds, as led by the house finch they join in matin chorus; 
an experience that seems not a little unexpected, and strangely at 
variance with the surroundings, but which for this reason all the 
more strongly emphasizes the thought it suggests, that contentment 
is a condition of mind rather than of environment—that the house 
finch is happy in spite of his living in the desert. 
The bright starry night of the desert has its birds as well as the 
day. Scarcely has the darkness begun to fall before the poorwill 
may be heard mournfully calling from over the valley, or seen in the 
deepening twilight seeking the margin of the water or an open place 
in the brush in pursuit of its insect prey. Very like a huge moth 
it is, as it glides low on noiseless wing, flutters for an instant, drops 
to the ground and is lost to view. Owls, little and big, from time 
to time hoot in the hills. Among them is the giant great horned owl, 
whose nest may here be found perched on a crag, for the exigencies 
of a treeless country compel recourse to unusual nesting sites, and, 
like the large hawks, the owl takes to the rocks. 
In the wider and higher valleys and on the far-extending plains 
where the “everlasting” sagebrush prevails, here but nowhere else 
the renowned sage grouse makes its home. Secure in the excellent 
protection that the brush affords, the bird rarely takes flight at the 
advance of a possible enemy until closely approached, when with a 
loud whirr it rises with apparently great effort until the tops of the 
