Live Oaks 139 
less vociferous but quite as unmusical. De- 
mure in plumage and with an astonishing 
bill, which serves him as a pickaxe, the Cali- 
fornia thrasher is one of the lords of song. 
His voice is stronger, and his powers of mimi- 
cry more varied than with either the Eastern 
thrasher or the mockingbird. As with them, 
his delivery is stagey and his song dramatic 
rather than lyrical—a trait shared by the 
entire family. In January they sing from 
the oaks by the hour, pouring out a volume of 
trills and roulades, interspersed with mim- 
icking cries and imitations of barnyard 
fowls. No other bird sings as much at this 
season unless it be the house finches—more 
given to song than their Eastern relative, 
the purple finch. They, however, avoiding 
the oaks, seem to prefer deciduous trees, such 
as the sycamore, keeping up a continuous 
musical chatter from its bare twigs. 
Perhaps the most typically Western bird 
found in and around the groves is the road- 
runner, a long-tailed, short-winged, black- 
crested, grotesque bird, fleet-footed and of 
preposterous habits. In the cafion above the 
ranch in the particular grove which serves me 
as a type, not only because it contains some 
fine oaks but because it is conveniently near, 
