56 The Wilson Bulletin — No. 95 



some eucalyptus and pepper trees, afterwards returning to 

 the roost. 



A boy who came along, exclaimed, " They can make an 

 awful fuss about four o'clock in the morning," and said he 

 had been scaring them out. A cat must have climbed the 

 roost trees, he said, " for feathers were all around." 



At 5:45 when, almost simultaneously, 15, 11, 2, and 1 came 

 in, the birds were scattered along the cable between six tele- 

 phone poles and along the wires across the street. At 5 :50 the 

 birds were jabbering noisily as the}^ entered the roost, and 

 four minutes later, though 15 more had come, there were only 

 about 75 on the wires. At 16:05 only about 10 were on the 

 wires, and the trees were nearly bare of black forms. After 

 going in, a few would come out, perhaps driven out by 

 neighbors they disturbed or crowded, but after circling 

 around their own tree or going to another down the line of 

 the roost, they would quickly disappear. At 6 :13 the last 

 three came, and at 6 :14 one was still flying around, though 

 it soon disappeared in the roost. At 6 :15 a trolley car came 

 thundering by, but not a bird flew, the trees remaining as 

 silent as though empty. Then a bat came wavering along, 

 and I started home, facing the deep orange, red western sky. 



The next morning I left the house at 4 :40 when the stars 

 were still bright, though it was rapidly getting light. When 

 I reached the roost the row of fan palms bordering the side- 

 walk were dark against the sky and the peak of San Bernar- 

 dino and the range beyond stood out black, while the eastern 

 sky was flushed with the same soft mauve light that comes 

 at sunset. As the bell in the church tower struck five I heard 

 the first bird note, the chip of an Anthony Towhee, which 

 was followed by a single t'chack from the roost. But not a 

 bird was in sight. I looked about delightedly. The seven 

 tall cypresses pointed to the sky noncommittally. Who could 

 believe that their smug green forms concealed a mob of Black- 

 birds? I sat down on the curbstone under a fan palm, with 

 an electric light burning above me, a star still shining in the 

 sky overhead. 



