:;::"::3J: THE MESQUITE WILDERNESS m-""": 



like trying to number so many flashes of sunlight, we 

 counted, around one tree, at least thirty of this species. 

 Strange to say, there was little or no fighting among 

 themselves, but when a big blundering bee or wasp 

 approached, a half-dozen hummers would rush head- 

 lonp' at the intruder and hustle it off. 



Among these flowering trees, a small stream wound 

 its way for a long distance before reaching the brink 

 of the great gorge, and its edges blossomed in beau- 

 tiful contrast to the arid bare earth a little beyond 

 on each side ; solid banks of ladies' paint-brush, soft 

 and white-topped ; lantanas straggling along the rim 

 of the dust ; and, closer to the water, dahlias and petu- 

 nias — all wild — were budding in profusion, promis- 

 ing soon a great glory of flowers. 



Among this low growth a small gathering of Mexican 

 Goldfinches searched for last year's seeds, which no 

 winter snows had buried nor ice encased. The sides and 

 top of the heads and the backs of these little strangers 

 were solid black, the wings and tail were strikingly 

 marked with white, and all the rest of the plumage was 

 golden yellow. Unlike our goldfinch of the Northeast, 

 this Mexican scorns to assume the dull garb of his 

 spouse during the winter months, and we could hardly 

 blame him when we saw the orange, blue, scarlet, and 

 yellow blossoms among which he spends this season 

 of rest from nest-building and domestic cares. 



The few butterflies surprised us by their resem- 



«4 99 ^ 



