THE VOICE OF THE DESERT 



172 



to a well-worked-out plan. While one sat on the nest to pro- 

 tect the young from the blazing sun, the other went hunt- 

 ing. When the latter returned with a catch, the brooding 

 bird gave up its place, went foraging in its turn and pres- 

 ently came back to deliver a catch, after which it again 

 took its place on the nest. One day, less than a month 

 after the eggs were first discovered, one baby was stand- 

 ing on the edge of the nest itself, the other on a cactus 

 stem a few feet away. By the next day both had dis- 

 appeared. 



Thus, despite the dubious reputation of the family to 

 which he belongs, the road runner, hke the other Ameri- 

 can cuckoos, seems to have conquered both the heredi- 

 tary taint and whatever temptations his generally rascally 

 disposition may have exposed him to. In this case at least, 

 both husband and wife seemed quite beyond criticism, 

 though they do say that other individuals sometimes re- 

 veal a not-too-serious sign of the hereditary weakness 

 when a female will, on occasion, lay her eggs in the nest 

 of another bird of her ovm species — which is certainly not 

 so reprehensible as victimizing a totally different bird as 

 the European cuckoo does. 



Perhaps the superior moral atmosphere of America has 

 reformed the cuckoo's habit and at least no American rep- 

 resentative of the family regularly abandons its eggs to the 

 care of a stranger. Nevertheless, those of us who are in- 

 clined to spiritual pride should remember that we do have 

 a native immoralist, abundant in this same desert country 

 and just as reprehensible as any to be found in decadent 

 Europe — namely the cowbird, who is sexually promiscu- 

 ous, never builds a home of his own and is inveterately 

 given to depositing eggs in the nests of other birds. In 



