162 . THE CONDOR 
swimming off disappeared down a tule lane, calling loudly as if, hidden in their ~ 
mazes, he was sure of finding the mother who would care for all his wants. 
The next time I passed the Coot Gateway, I was hurrying by absent-mind- 
edly and surprised four small Redheads standing on the platform. Was my 
little friend among them, happily reunited to his family? The mother must 
have been sitting down resting, for she Jumped up and vanished, the four young 
also disappearing by magic. After that piece of consummate carelessness, 
creep in as noiselessly as I might, it was all in vain. I had lost a rare oppor- 
tunity. One pretty sight near the Gateway, though quite aside the mark, was 
a long row of young dragon flies on a telephone wire. 
I often stopped at the Gateway on my way back and forth to our mail box 
which the crippled carrier, on the return curve of his thirty mile route, passed 
at intervals varying widely with roads and weather. Coming in sight far up 
the second angle of the road, following section lines between grain fields, the 
head of his old white horse could be watched till it reached the box, and then 
watched disappearing down the highway—a highway that seemed merely an 
incident, winding down between endless fields of ripening grain. Before the 
harvest, the fields that had changed from green to gold under my eyes, soft- 
ened to pale straw color that, as the landscape stretched away, went well with 
the creamy horizon cloudlets. In one long interval of waiting, when resting in 
a recess in the wheat with camp stool for pillow, I watched the silky long- 
bearded wheat softly blowing across the sky till the blue seemed a wondrous 
blue and the prairie clouds seemed to gather protectingly close. 
(To be continued) 
A SHORT PAPER ON THE HUTTON VIREO 
By CLARK C. VAN FLEET 
ITHIN the last two years I have made the acquaintance of a new friend 
\ \/ among the birds, namely, the Hutton Vireo (Vireo huttoni huttont), 
to me one of the most interesting of our California songsters. This is 
a common enough bird in Sonoma County, but one that must be searched for 
and his acquaintance sought, in order to know him well. His is a quiet, unob- 
strusive nature, and his olive green coat blends so well with his surroundings 
that many individuals might be passed, in good-territory, by an unobservant 
person, before gaining a glimpse of one. 
The Hutton Vireo is not a bird likely to draw attention to himself. There 
is no fluttering of wings or hasty glances here and there for food, such as dis- 
tinguishes the Kinglet ; no hammering or pounding and gay chattering or scold- 
ing, in the manner of the Plain Titmouse. His sober mantle of olive green is — 
not less subdued than his movement from branch to branch, and tree to tree, — 
his quiet peering under leaves and bark scales, where he fees toll of the teases 
ing insect life. Occasionally a large insect nal fall his prey; he will then stop” 
and diligently snip off the wings and legs before attempting to swallow it. 
Rarely, he will dive forth from the protection of the trees at a passing insee! 
