F. E. Blaauw—About Birds in North America



67



I had a letter of introduction to a gentleman of the Carnegie laboratory,

and next morning, in the fiery sun, I set out to find him. After some

difficulty I met him in his house, against a hill just outside the town,

and whilst we were making plans for the afternoon in his veranda a

female Red Cardinal came to drink in a small fountain near the house.

About six that same evening we set out in a motor to reach the desert,

with the object of seeing the giant cacti and all the strange vegetation,

the seeing of which had brought me to Tucson. An ornithological

magazine is perhaps not quite the place to say much about the flora

of an Arizona desert, but I cannot help saying that the aspect of the

40 feet high giant cerei of the barrel cacti, the tree cacti, the paloverde,

the creosot bushes, and all the small opuntias and mamillarias, was a

sight never to forget.


Not long after we had been wandering on foot amongst all those

vegetable wonders, I heard a familiar sound, and a large family of

Gambell Partridges (Cal. gambelli) came fearlessly walking round us.

They were cock and hen and twelve full-grown chicks, which were

apparently looking for a perch to spend the night. A large Black

Martin was also common, and apparently spent the night in the holes

which abounded in the old giant cactus trees. There was also a Wood¬

pecker that frequented those holes, but he did not come near enough so

as to enable me to see him well. As the evening fell a Nightjar flew

noiselessly around us, and then the sun sank in gold and blood-red behind

the mountains and we w r ent home. My guide told me that the so-called

Road Runner, a long-legged ground Cuckoo, with brown and bull

plumage and a pink mark on each side of the head (Geococcyx

calif or nianus), and which feeds principally on small lizards, is of not

infrequent occurrence amongst the cacti. Unfortunately we did not

see one.


From Tucson, which was rather unpleasantly hot with its 116° in

the shade, I took a train to travel westward to Los Angeles, a journey

which does not take much more than a night and a day. One travels

mostly over cultivated country, and when I arrived at Los Angeles

I found a temperature of 75°, which felt quite chilly after the 116° of

Tucson. Los Angeles is a garden city, and all the houses are surrounded

by beautiful flowers, and the streets are often planted with flowering



