l6 THE CONDOR Vol. IX 



mosquitoes harassed us constantly, while the perspiration kept dripping from our 

 bodies, till, after three or four hours in the blind, our tongues were parched from 

 thirst, and with loss of strength and patience, we were compelled to quit for the 

 day. But for all we suffered there was a fascination in watching these wild birds going 

 and coming fearlessly almost within arm's reach. For three different days we 

 worked in the l)lind trying to picture the gulls in their characteristic attitudes 

 of flight. 



These gulls are masters in the air. I have watched by the hour birds similar 

 to these following along in the wake of a steamer, but had never before had such 

 chances with a camera. Often they poise, resting apparently motionless on out- 

 stretched wings. It is a difficult feat. A small bird can't do it. A sparrow hawk 

 can only poise by the rapid beating of his wings. The gull seems to hang per- 

 fectly still; yet there is never an instant when the wings and tail are not con- 

 stantly adjusted to meet the different air currents. Just as in shooting the rapids 

 in a canoe, the paddle must be adjusted every moment to meet the different eddies, 

 currents and whirlpools, and it is never the same in two different instants. A gull 

 by the perfect adjustment of its body, without a single flap of the wings, makes 

 headway straight in the teeth of the wind. I saw one retain a perfect equilibrium 

 in a stiff breeze, a-nd at the same time reach forward and scratch his ear. 



Even tho we had good chances to picture the flying gulls, yet wing-shooting 

 with a camera is such a difficult feat, that several dozen plates yielded but few 

 good negatives. The short interval of time during which it takes a flying bird to 

 sw^eep across the angle of vision of the lens generally gives the photographer only 

 part of a second's time to aim, focus and shoot. A flight picture well focused and 

 clear and satisfactory in its make-up is the record of a rare shot and a great many 

 misses; perhaps it is more often a good guess, but it is rarely if ever made without a 

 great deal of practice. 



Portland, Oregon. 



EXPERIENCES WITH THE DOTTED CANYON WREN 



BY WRIGHT M. PIERCE 



IT was the latter part of June, several years ago, that I happened to be on a 

 camping trip over in Coldwater Canyon, which is situated at the headwaters of 



the San Gabriel and which leads into Cattle Canyon, a branch of the right fork 

 of the San Gabriel. Near the head of this beautiful Coldwater Canyon we found a 

 cabin, which was badly worn by the weather and rough treatment that it had 

 received at the hands of campers. Here in this cabin, the sides of which were 

 made of logs with wide cracks between them, we made camp. The few rough 

 shakes which served as a roof would afford poor shelter from either rain or sun. 

 This cabin is typical of the old miners' cabins which one comes across when trav- 

 eling thru the mountain wilds of southern California; but within I found a little 

 home that would not, I believe, be called typical of miners' cabins. 



This home was in an old dry-goods box which was suspended from the ceiling 

 by baling wire. The box had evidently been used previously by campers as a 



