^o U'est American Scientist. 



In general character the island is mountainous, the highest 

 peaks being about 2,800 feet above the sea. Between two long 

 ridges, extending nearly the length of the island, is a narrow but 

 comparatively level valley, where stands the ranch-house and its 

 adjoining sheds— the only buildings on the island. Along the 

 shore are lines of lofty cliffs, v/ith occasional coves or harbors 

 which form the extremities of canyons running up the sides of 

 the mountains. 



In winter Santa Cruz is covered with grass and flowers, and 

 there is plenty of water in the canyons, but in summer everything 

 becomes dry, and the streams shrink to mere rivulets, or disappear 

 altogether. 



A volume might easily be filled with an account of the curious 

 birds and animals upon the islands. It is the purpose of the 

 present sketch to describe the habits of one species which is not 

 very generally known — the coast fox, Vulpes littoralis of Baird. 



The coast fox is found only upon the Santa Barbara islands, 

 and seems to be entirely distinct from the fox upon the mainland. 

 Upon Santa Cruz it is very common; I have olten seen a dozen 

 in a morning's walk. The most noticeable peculiarity of the 

 coast fox is its diminutive size. Full grown individuals measure 

 only about thirty inches in length, including the tail. The color- 

 ation is as follows : above, including the upper half of the tail, 

 silver gray; beneath, including the lower half of the tail, reddish 

 fawn color; chin and throat, pure white; forehead and a spot at 

 the corner of the mouth, dusky brown ; a dark stripe along the 

 tail. 



As Santa Cruz is rarely visited, the foxes have become wonder- 

 fully tame. While I was camping out upon the island during the 

 past summer (1886), the foxes soon learned to come around camp 

 about dinner time, to secure scraps of meat and fish, which were 

 thrown to them by my companions and myself. Our camp was 

 in a canyon, where the stream had washed out a deep channel for 

 itself in winter, and diminishing in summer, had left a convenient 

 place beneath the overhanging banks. The foxes would approach 

 quite boldly to the very edge of these banks — within a few feet of 

 our heads — and carry off whatever we left for them Nor were 

 their incursions entirely confined to legitimate spoils. Any small 

 article, edible or not, which we left lying about camp in the eve- 

 ning, was apt to disappear in the night, — gloves, stockings, hand- 

 kerchiefs, sponges, soap, even a pocket of fish-hooks, were thus 

 mysteriously spirited away. In general, however, the missing 

 articles were discovered not far from camp, lying where the foxes 

 had dropped them, but some of them we never saw again. 



As we saw the foxes every day, we soon learned to distinguish 

 them by their individual peculiarities, and even named some 

 of our most regular visitors. 'Dick,' 'Jenny,' 'Pete,' and 

 'Uncle Joe' came nearly every afternoon; sometimes all four 



