THE CALIFORNIA ROAD-RUNNER 19 



The road-runner relies mostly on his trusty 

 legs for making his escape when pressed by an 

 enemy. He realizes what poor makeshifts of 

 flight organs his wings are, and like the ostrich 

 uses them mostly as aids in running or jumping. 

 It would be a mistake, though, to say that the 

 road-runner never flies in the true sense of the 

 term. Several times I have seen one, when 

 hard-pressed, fly almost an eighth of a mile. 

 I must admit, though, that the act was awk- 

 wardly done. If surprised when on rough 

 ground the fleeing road-runner generally spreads 

 his wings and volplanes across the gulleys. If 

 disturbed when on the mountain-side he may 

 glide downward a quarter of a mile to the 

 valley below. It is always a beautiful sight 

 and a feat most interesting to witness. 



The pasiano has scarcely a vestige of song, 

 his only emotional utterances being a strange 

 whistling note ("00 — t") ending in a loud 

 clatter, chipper, or crackling noise made by 

 rapidly bringing his mandibles together; and a 

 loud "coo" given most often during the nesting 

 season. The whistle sounds as though the 

 breath were being drawn in when it is produced. 



