72 



THE 00L0GIS1 



NEST AND EGGS OF LARK SPARROW; IN SITU. 



See Article in This Issue. 



tree, a long crack extended from the 

 ground to the top of the stub. From 

 this, in a place where a falling chip 

 had made a sort of little shelf — sev- 

 eral tiny twigs protruded. Closer in- 

 spection gave glimpses of strands of 

 bark and fine horsehair. Again the 

 little hatchet came into play and 

 eight small eggs, so spotted with red 

 as to seem one color, were transferred 

 to the basket. Mrs. Wren was not at 

 home, evidently the pounding on the 

 flicker's nest had so disturbed her 

 that she left before I came. 



Then we, (the dog. and I, that is) 

 managed to flush an Annas Humming 

 bird from her nest and two eggs, 

 neatly saddled on the overhanging 

 limb of an oak above the stream. By 

 this time it was well past two o'clock, 

 and so we (again the dog and I) sat 

 down on the bole of a fallen oak to 



eat our lunch. With we two it was 

 ever share and share alike, so he got 

 two of my four sandwiches, but the 

 pie and cake, wise dog, he would not 

 touch. Then I lay down to take a bit 

 of a nap; when I woke my watch 

 showed I had slept just one hour. 

 Home was a long way off, but we had 

 not seen the end of that canyon and 

 we struck out, ever down hill, almost 

 forgetting that we had to walk back. 

 Presently, rounding a bend in the 

 canyon, we came to its mouth or with- 

 in sight of it, for another grove of 

 sycamores hid the actual meeting 

 place of plain and hill from sight. 

 Out beyond, the level valley rolled 

 away up to and beyond the little town 

 of Chino; through the golden haze 

 floated the great Turkey Vultures, 

 homeward bound to their caves in the 

 hills. From my feet the canyon bed 



