68 t THE CONDOR Vol. XX 



broken near the end, and after a moment 's pause, the last notes were repeated, 

 slowing up at the close. What a delight to sit in the slough and hear these 

 charming musical scales run all around you from invisible choristers ! Joyous 

 Bobolinks of the Sloughs, they surely are ! After a rich afternoon with the 

 Phalaropes and the Rails, as 1 started homeward facing the lowering sun, the 

 shining bent blades of the beautiful slough grass, green to the east, were blow- 

 ing white to the west. 



Wondering if possibly the Phalaropes nested on the dry ground outside, 

 instead of in the water-floored slough itself, I walked down the adjoining strip 

 of dry ground; but though one of the long-winged birds came far afield to in- 

 vestigate me, he soon returned to the other Whitewings and they all kept beat- 

 ing back and forth over the brown-topped acres where their chief interest in- 

 disputably lay. But where were the nests, I kept asking myself with insistent 

 disappointment. Perhaps on some of the platforms of old hay that I had 

 missed, safe in the heart of their water-floored cover. 



On my last visit to the Phalarope Slough, about a week after my discovery 

 of the birds, as two flew overhead near together I distinctly caught the reddish 

 brown stripe along the front of the neck and the color on the chest character- 

 izing the female. By this time the birds were so used to me that their remon- 

 strance at my presence was half-hearted and they soon dropped back to go 

 about their own affairs. I had failed to find their nests, I acknowledged with 

 keen regret, but the beautiful Whitewings had given me many choice hours. 



As I waded around listening to Soras and nondescript Sparrows, a noise 

 overhead made me look up. High up, away up in the blue dome, so high it 

 seemed as if it must soon go out of sight, I discovered first one and then one 

 more white Gull — a rarely lovely sight. Then as I turned toward home, a great 

 cloud of white smoke from a burning straw stack rolled up and, blown by the 

 wind, swept out across the prairie. 



6. FROM THE FARMHOUSE 



A low knoll overlooking the sloughs afforded dry ground for the farm 

 buildings, and barn, vegetable garden, and potato patch attracted birds not 

 found in the wet sloughs. In the barn, around whose doors the large band of 

 farm horses and colts gathered picturesquely, a colony of Barn Swallows made 

 themselves at home, and short rows twittered on the telephone wire outside, at 

 a safe distance from hungry cats. On a fence near the barn an Eave Swallow 

 was seen once or twice, perhaps from a neighbor's eaves. 



The piazza of the farmhouse looked out on a yard having delightful west- 

 ern suggestions — scattered banners of gramma grass and a low form of sage- 

 brush (Artimisia frigida), well associated with Clay-colored Sparrows and 

 Western Meadowlarks. One of the larks sang habitually from the posts of 

 the garden fence and he had a droll, rag-time phrase that seemed to run in 

 his head. Su'-key, su'-key, su'-key, su'-key, suke' , he sang over and over, to the 

 irritation of the listener but with entire satisfaction to himself ; he, the renown- 

 ed musician who— but perhaps he was a young tenor whose full repertoire had 

 not yet been developed ! Or, on the other hand, was it he whom I happened on 

 at a crucial moment? On the grass in front of the house a handsome suitor 

 stood facing his lady, displaying all his charms, his black-collared golden 

 breast and his rich elaborate song, rendered with ardor and persuasiveness. 

 Apparently, however, both charm of voice and person were lost on the lady, for 



