In the Giant Cactus Belt 189 
quail—a handsome bird with black crest, 
chestnut crown, and buff and black under- 
parts. As I sit here writing, their solicitous 
call may be heard—a harsher note than that 
of the valley quail—and a covey steals up a 
bank under the encelia and creosote bushes 
and across an open bit of lava, on which 
stands a solitary barrel cactus rooted in solid 
rock. The meat of this bird is peculiarly 
dry—as one might expect of a desert bird— 
and not very good eating. 
Western gnatcatchers scold and sputter 
among the palo verdes and mesquites, and now 
and again I hear the sweet warbler-like note 
of the verdin. In the cafion below, the black 
phoebe, one of my old Mexican friends, is 
always to be found gleaning its food and 
exhibiting all the mannerisms and traits of 
that family of which it is one of the most 
delightful members. Say’s phoebe, which is 
also a peculiarly agreeable little bird—gentle, 
soft-voiced, and unafraid,—prefers the more 
open spaces along the creek, and these are 
the only flycatchers to winter here. 
In almost any locality ofthe South-West, the 
common birds are the wrens, thrashers, and 
towhees. Here the cactus wren is the most 
abundant; of the thrashers, Palmer’s and the 
