70 



THE OOLOGIST 



border. I said to the Top Sergeant 

 who is a pal of mine, "Gee! guy, I'll 

 bet there's eagles and hawks and 

 wrens all over the mountains, and 

 about a thousand kind of sparrows in 

 the grass and trees and about a million 

 kind of birds that I never saw before," 

 and the Top shot back, "Yep, bet 

 there is too, wonder if they have any 

 of those Mexican Parrots down there." 

 So we journeyed on as eager as the 

 rest. 



And after the routine of making 

 camp was over, the Top and I were 

 ready to go out among them. And 

 so we did. Hot Wells consisted prin- 

 cipally (and entirely,) of one Adobe 

 Hotel, one small store, two adobe and 

 one cross tie dwellings, and a small 

 wooden bath-house, and lay on a 

 broad valley formed by two ranges of 

 hills or mountains, ranging from one 

 hundred to a thousand feet. The word 

 valley usually brings to mind dif- 

 ferent things than sand and then more 

 sand, sparsely covered with cactus, 

 cats claw, mesquite, shapperal, teran- 

 tulas, and rattlesnakes. Yes! we 

 lived in a nice little valley. So Top 

 and I took to the hills. 



At only about a hundred yards from 

 camp we were rewarded in seeing a 

 pair of Black Throated Sparrows, but 

 could locate no nest. This bird proved 

 fairly common. 



As we approached the foot hills, the 

 mesquite and yuccas became more 

 common, the yuccas predominating. 

 As we came up to our first large 

 yucca, yellow streaks scattered in all 

 directions an oven bird left her nest 

 in the higher leaves; this plant re- 

 sembles a palm, the leaves branching 

 out from the trunk are long and dag- 

 ger-like, and as the lower ones die, 

 they form a sort of thick, fibrous mat. 

 The Oven Bird nest yielded six fresh 

 eggs, the only fresh ones we collected. 

 and a close examination of the matted 



dead leaves yielded three nests, which 

 accounted for the yellow streaks, nests 

 of the Hooded Oriole. The average 

 of all nests of the Hooded Oriole were 

 three eggs, about half incubated, and 

 nearly all the yuccas of any size had 

 at least one nest. 



The Oven Birds were every where, 

 all they asked was an excuse to lay 

 their nests, in yuccas or in mesquite, 

 just anywhere that would hold them. 

 But the first one was the only one 

 that held eggs. And believe me it 

 was no easy job, examining each and 

 every one, most of the time from Top's 

 shoulder as the leaves of the yucca 

 are too sharp and long to risk climb- 

 ing, and it takes about a yard of arm 

 to run up their long tunnel. Oc- 

 casionally we would see a Varied 

 Bunting or a Verdin, here and there 

 a Black Throated or Texas Sparrow, 

 over there a Sparrow Hawk, maybe a 

 Road Runner's nest in this mesquite 

 thicket and the old bird legging it 

 over the hill, and about a million 

 Scaled Patridges and Jack Rabbits 

 everywhere. A raven could be seen 

 winging his laborious way, and a giant 

 Hawk preening his feathers on a far 

 off yucca, but nothing but orioles and 

 oven birds in the hand. 



Suddenly Top let out a yell and 

 seemed to be trying to say about six 

 things at once. But the cause was 

 evident; a raven had just left the 

 yucca besides which he was standing 

 and the top sheltered a big bulky 

 nest, and the Top was going into con- 

 vulsions below. Well, I knew I was 

 the fall guy so I climbed on his 

 shoulders and up I went; and I had 

 to let him feel the heel once to keep 

 from pushing some of those leaves 

 through me. Well, I managed to get 

 down five of as pretty eggs of Mrs. 

 White Neck as I ever saw and the Top 

 was tickled so much that we mailed 

 them to some champion to blow. 



