484 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 15, 1895. 
just loaded down with game. But there 'is v where : we 
made a mistake, for after walking through the mud for 
nearly half an hour, we gave up in disgust and went back 
to the boat again. We found snipe and ducks just as 
hard to get at that morning in Florida as we would have 
found them in Connecticut. Although there were thou- 
sands of them, we didn't get any, as they were very wild. 
After cleaning the mud off of us we got out our tin 
plates and cups, and just as the sun was beginning to shed 
his rays over our part of this earth again, we began to 
store away self- rising flour flapjacks, coffee, boiled yams 
and corned beef hash in a way that threatened to lessen 
our stores in a surprising manner. 
Breakfast over and dishes washed, sail was hoisted, the 
small 61b. grapple hauled aboard, and the Rambler began 
to make very slow headway in a light breeze against the 
tide, which was on the ebb. It wasn't long before the 
tide turned, and although there wasn't a great quantity of 
wind, we made pretty fair headway. We kept on in this 
manner until 10 o'clock, when the wind all died out. Then 
the sun took its innings, and the hot way in which it 
streamed down on us was a caution. 
We would have gone ashore and waited for wind if 
there had been a decent place to land, but there was 
nothing but mud and marsh in every direction, so we 
had to make the most of the situation and "grin and 
bear it." 
Pretty • soon we had the tide against us. We had to 
take to the 14ft. oar and do some sculling. This is where 
Sam came in handy, as he was just in his element with 
that oar. Being an oysterman by occupation, he thor- 
oughly understood how to get the most speed possible 
out of the Rambler by the use of one oar. This mode 
of navigation.was kept up until 2 or 3 o'clock P.M., when 
a nice breeze sprung up from the west. It did not make 
a particle of difference which direction the wind was 
from, as the river sometimes turned to the west, making 
a dead beat to windward for us. At other times we 
would be going south, and still other times east and even 
north, so crooked was the stream. 
About 4 o'clock we came to quite a wide stretch of 
water, and about half a mile ahead, on the left bank, a 
point of land jutted out into the river. The point was 
covered with pine and cypress trees, from which hung 
long festoons of gray moss, which, streaming out in the 
wind, made quite a weird-looking sight. 
As we came up with the point, we were agreeably sur- 
prised to find a nice, firm, hard beach of white sand in- 
stead of the mud banks we had seen all day. It was such 
a nice place to camp that we decided to stop there that 
night. 
The bow of the Rambler was run up on the beach, when , 
after taking in sail, we made her fast to a stake which we 
drove in the sand. We got out the small shelter tent, and 
while Sam and I hunted a suitable place to erect it, Tom 
tried his hand at getting supper. 
After erecting the tent we collected a number of arm- 
fuls of the long gray moss, and piling it in the tent, we 
spread our heavy blankets over it, and our bed was ready 
whenever we were. 
After supper, about sundown, large flocks of snipe and 
plover began to fly over the camp, a few lighting on the 
beach. Tom and I got out our guns, and it wasn't a great 
while before we secured a number of snipe. Sam found 
some flat shells, and taking some sticks, he split them at 
one end. Fixing the shells in the split end, he stuck the 
sticks in the sand. It was surprising to see how the snipe 
and plover would come to these rude decoys. Flock after 
flock would fly among them, and in fifteen minutes' time 
we shot all and really more than we could use. We 
stopped firing at them, as it would have been useless and 
unnecessary slaughter to have continued. 
Not long after sundown the mosquitoes found us out, 
and we had a gay time fighting them until bedtime. 
After straightening things for the night, we crawled under 
the tent and stretched our bodies on one of the softest 
beds imaginable. After our hard day's work, it didn't 
take long for us to drop off to sleep. We slept until quite 
late next morning, so that when we did finally get up we 
concluded to stay there that day and overhaul and fix 
things up a little shipshape. Wai. H. Avis. 
[to be continued.] * 
ABOUT STARLINGS. 
Philadelphia, Pa., June. — Editor Forest and Stream.' 
In reading the letter of Mr. Hugh M. Ford in last issue 
of your most valuable paper, I fully agree with him "to 
cultivate the acquaintance of our native bird," but beg to 
say not only "foreign gentlemen," but born Americans 
also, any who know the starling and its habits will surely 
not compare the bird with our common crow or red- 
winged blackbird. I presume Mr. Ford has had oppor- 
tunity to observe and study European birds in different 
localities and stages (not in cages in this country, but in 
freedom in their own) or he would not speak so sure of 
the quality of song about the different birds. It is 
not more than right to stick up for the good things we 
have here as far as right goes. 
I am a true lover of entomology and botany, and when- 
ever I have time to spare I devote it in the woods and 
fields, where I best observe and collect, and that's just 
where I fell in with ornithology. I only have had the 
chance to enjoy New Jersey and Pennsylvania woods, 
where I have seen a great variety of birds; yes, birds 
enough to let the starling stay where he is now. But I 
have met on several occasions "young America" with 
slingshots and crippled birds. Collecting beetles one fore- 
noon not far away from Philadelphia I have found three 
dead robins and one thrush. Such finds are distressing 
for any one who wants to see and hear the woods alive. 
It is not an easy task to arrest single-handed two bird- 
killers with double-barreled guns or a whole gang of boys; 
I have tried it once, but not more. 
Mr. Tenner is right in saying that Jove for nature 
must be planted in the child's heart, then the law will be 
obeyed. 
I happened to be in Bassano, northern Italy, in 1879 
during the fall, when one morning an unusual excitement 
made me curious to know what had happened. Going 
with a crowd of men and boys, we left the city and after 
marching about a half-hour I found that thousands of 
quail and finches, among hundreds of fringilla (Ccelebs) 
on their migration trip had been completely tired out by 
a snowstorm in the Alps. Men and boys with sticks gath- 
ered those poor birds in bags or tied their legs together to 
carry them home. The ground had been covered with 
birds, small limbs of trees and grapevines had been 
broken down in some instances by the weight of so many 
birds, who, storm-beaten, tired, unable to fly any further 
had sought refuge on terra ftrma. Next day they could 
be bought at Bassano a hatful for the small sum of 20 
As a "foreign gentleman" I love this country as well as 
any American, and the surplus enthusiasm for European 
birds and love of home have been given to this country 
long ago. I am sure the starling would never be, if intro- 
duced, a nuisance like sparrow or German carp. Hoping 
to hear some more of the excellent "Roots and Yarbs," I 
remain your faithful reader, Hermann Hoknig. 
THE ROAD-RUNNER. 
Oeococcyx californianus (Lesson). 
BY MAJOR OHAS. BENDTRE. 
From advance sheets of "Life Histories of N. A. Birds, with especial 
Reference to their Breeding Habits and Eggs." 
Saurothera californiana, Lesson, Complement des CEuvres de Buf- 
fon VI., 1839 (?), 420. 
Oeococcyx californianus, Baird, Birds of North America, 1858, 73. 
(B 68, C 289, R 385, C 427, U 385.) 
Geographical Range: Central and northern Mexico and adjoining 
portions of the United States; east through the western half of Texas, 
and extreme western Indian Territory; north to southwestern Kan- 
sas, southern Colorado, southern Utah, southern Nevada, and south- 
western Oregon (?) ; Lower California. 
The road-runner, equally well known as the "chaparral 
cock," and occasionally called "snake-killer," "ground 
cuckoo," "lizard bird," and by the Spanish-speaking pop- 
ulation of our southern border Paisano and Oorrecamino, 
is generally a resident and breeds wherever found, except- 
ing perhaps in the extreme northern portions of its 
range. This it reaches in Shasta county, California, on 
the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada, in about latitude 
40° N. , while on the east side of these mountains it has as 
yet not been observed north of Inyo county, California, 
about .latitude 36° N. In southwestern Kansas it is un- 
doubtedly quite rare and can only be considered as a 
straggler.* 
Its general habits are far more terrestrial than arboreal, 
spending most of its time on the ground in search of food, 
and frequenting the drier desert tracts adjacent to river 
valleys, and the lower foot hills, covered by cactus, yuccas 
and thorny undergrowth. It rarely ventures into the 
higher mountain ranges among the conifers, but breeds 
occasionally among the oaks bordering the pine belt. It 
is most abundant at altitudes ranging from 2,000 to 3,500ft., 
and is seldom seen within the United States above 5,000ft.; 
but in the San Pedro Martir range, in Lower California, 
Mr. A. W. Anthony has met with the road-runner at an 
altitude of 7,0U0ft. above sea level, and at Glorietta, New 
Mexico, it has recently been reported as breeding at a 
height of 8,000ft. 
The chaparral cock is rather unsocial in its habits, and 
it is rare to see more than a couple together excepting 
after the breeding season, when the young still follow one 
of the parents. Its food consists almost entirely of ani- 
mal matter, such as grasshoppers, beetles, lizards, small 
snakes, land snails, the smaller rodents, and not unfre- 
quently of young birds. On the whole, these birds do far 
more good than harm. When the fig-like fruit of the 
giant cactus is ripe they also feed on this; in fact, many 
mammals and birds seem to be very partial to it. It is 
astonishing how large an animal can be swallowed by one 
of these birds. I have found a species of garter snake 
fully 20in. long in the crop of one shot in Arizona, 
Mr. Anthony writes me on this subject as follows: "A 
half -grown bird which I shot at San Quentin, Lower Cali- 
fornia, presented an unusually bunchy appearance about 
the throat and neck, a fullness which was accounted for 
upon dissection by the discovery of an immense lizard 
which had been swallowed entire but a few moments be- 
fore the bird was shot. I know of several instances of 
road-runners making a meal of a nest of young house- 
finches (Carjjodacus mexicanus frontalis) and other small 
birds." 
I am aware that there is a pretty general belief in lo- 
calities where the road-runner is common, and where the 
rattlesnake is usually more so, that these birds are more 
than a match for even the largest of these reptiles, and at- 
tack and kill them wherever found, an assertion I very 
much question. It is said that when one of these birds, 
when rambling about, meets a rattlesnake coiled up and 
asleep after a good meal, it quietly hedges the reptile in 
with a ring or fence of the joints of the CholJa cactus, 
and after having done so, drops a similar joint from above 
on the sleeping reptile, which, being enraged thereby, 
thrashes around and soon becomes covered with the sharp 
spines, and then falls an easy victim to the bird, after be- 
coming exhausted in vain attempts to free itself. The 
bird is said to first pick its eyes out and so render it entirely 
helpless. This is a very plausible story, and while I am 
only too well aware of the sharpness of the spines of the 
Cholla cactus, I know that such a hedge proves no bar- 
rier to these snakes, and that they do not mind such ob- 
structions in the least, passing over without touching 
them. I consider this story on a par with the generally 
accepted belief of hunters and frontiersmen in the West, 
that rattlesnakes will not cross over horsehair ropes when 
laid around one's bed while camping out. I admit that, 
having heard this frequently from persons I had no rea- 
son to doubt, I was a firm believer in the statement, and 
made use of this snake protector for a number of years: 
but at last my faith was rudely shattered by seeing a me- 
dium-sized rattlesnake deliberately crawling over such a 
rope which I had stretched around my tent, The snake 
paid no attention to the hair rope, but slightly curved its 
body where about to come in contact with it, gliding over 
without touching it, and, finding a sunny spot at the side 
Of the tent, coiled up to take a rest, part of its body lying 
directly on the rope. Since witnessing this performance 
I have naturally lest faith in this belief, and have wished 
many times since that it had not been so rudely shaken, 
* In a letter received from Mr. A. W. Anthony, written on Aug. 5, 
1888, and overlooked by me when this article was written, he informB 
me that a road-runner, accompanied by three young, was seen by a 
traveling companion of his, who knew these birds well, on the line of 
railroad between Albany and Ashland, Oregon, about 50 miles south 
of Albany, some time in August, 1887. This extends its range con- 
siderably northward. 
especially when in sections of the country where these 
reptiles are abundant and where one is liable to find his 
blankets occupied by one or more rattlers. 
Road-runners are ordinarily rather shy and suspicious 
birds, and not so often seen as one would think, even 
where comparatively common. Within the United States 
they are most abundant along the southern borders of 
Texas and Arizona, and in southern California. I found 
them quite common in the vicinity of my camp on Rillito 
Creek, near Tucson, Arizona, and also near Anaheim, 
Orange county, California, and I have examined about 
twenty of their nests. Notwithstanding their natural 
shyness, they are inquisitive birds, and where they are 
not constantly chased and molested will soon become 
used to man. One of these birds paid frequent visits to 
my camp, often perching on a mesquite stump for half 
an hour at a time, within 20yds. of my tent. While so 
perched it would usually keep up a continuous cooing, 
not unlike that of the mourning dove, varied now and 
then by a cackle resembling that of a domestic hen when 
calling her brood's attention to some choice morsel of 
food. This call sounded like "dack, dack, dack," a num- 
ber of times repeated. Another peculiar sound wasprod uced 
by snapping its mandibles rapidly together. While utter- 
ing these notes its long tail was almost constantly in 
motion and partly expanded, and its short wings slightly 
drooped. In walking about at ease, the tail is somewhat 
raised and the neck partly contracted. When suddenly 
alarmed the feathers of the body are compressed and it 
trusts almost entirely to its legs for escape, running sur- 
prisingly fast. While running it can readily keep out of 
the way of a horse on a fair gallop on comparatively open 
ground, and should the pursuer gain too much on the- 
bird, it suddenly doubles on its course and takes advan- 
tage of any thickets or broken ground in the vicinity, 
and is soon lost to sight. Its flight is apparently easy 
and, considering its short wings, is rather swift. 
In southern Arizona the breeding season begins some- 
times as early as the middle of March, but the majority 
of the birds there, as well as throughout the remainder of 
their range, do not commence nesting before April, and 
nidification lasts through the summer months, two and 
occasionally three broods being raised in a season. While 
the first set of eggs laid by such species as rear more than 
one brood in a season is usually larger in number than 
subsequent ones, it seems to me that with the road-runner 
the reverse is the case. 
During the month of April, 1872, I found several nests, 
none of which contained more than three eggs, all well 
incubated when found; similar small sets were found 
during the first half of May, while in June and July the 
sets numbered from four to six eggs, the latter the largest 
sets observed by me in Arizona. The following explana- 
tion may account for this: 
In southern Arizona, during the spring months, insects 
and reptiles, which form the bulk of the food of these 
birds, are rather scarce, while in June, as soon as the 
rains commence, and later through the summer, suitable 
food is far more abundant and a larger family can be 
much more readily cared for, and I am of the opinion 
that these birds know this and act accordingly. Occasion- 
ally a large number of eggs is found, howevet, and Lieut. 
H. C. Benson, Fourth Cavalry, United States Army,, 
writes me that he saw a nest of this species, near Fort 
Huachuca, containing six young birds, all of different 
sizes, and two eggs; the largest of the young was about 
ready to leave the nest,- and the smallest only a day or 
two old. 
Their nesting sites are quite variable. In southern Ari- 
zona the majority of nests found by me were placed in 
low mesquite trees or thick bushes, and in different species- 
of cacti, such as the prickly pear, cholla and others. Occa- 
sionally one of their nests is placed on top of a mesquite 
stump, surrounded by green sprouts, or in a hackberry or 
barberry bush. I found one nest in a palo verde tree, and 
another in a willow thicket; in the latter case the birds did 
not build their own nest, but appropriated one of the 
crissal thrasher (Earporliynchus crissalis). Mr. F. H. 
Fowler writes me from Fort Bowie tbat he saw a nest 
near there, placed in the hollow of a dead stump. 
In Texas the road-runner sometimes nests in ebony 
bushes, and in California it has been known to use the 
nest of the California jay (ApJielocoma californica) in oak 
trees, sometimes fully 16ft. from the ground. Usually the 
nests are placed from 3 to 8ft. from the ground, and only 
in rare instances higher. Sometimes they are found in 
quite open situations, but generally they are well con- 
cealed from view. 
A typical nest of the road-runner may be described as a 
rather flat and. shallow but compactly built structure, 
about 12in. in diameter and varying in thickness from 4 
to 6in., with but little depression interiorly. The ground 
work consists of sticks from 5 to lOin. long, lined more or 
less regularly with finer material of the same kind, and 
finished off with dry grasses. Occasionally bits of dry 
cow or horse dung, a few feathers, the inner bark of the 
cottonwood, dry mesquite seed pods, bits of snake skin 
and small grass roots are used, and now and then no lin- 
ing is found, the eggs lying on a simple platform of 
twigs. 
The number of eggs to a set varies in different localities 
from two to nine, and occasionally as many as twelve 
have been found in a nest, possibly the product of two 
birds. Sets ranging from four to six eggs are the rule. 
In large sets several sterile eggs are nearly always found, 
and I believe that rarely more than five young are hatched 
at one time. Incubation begins sometimes with the first 
two eggs laid, especially when the set is to be a large one, 
and again I have taken apparently full sets of four eggs 
in which there was no perceptible difference in the size of 
the embryos. Occasionally an egg is deposited daily, usu^ 
ally only every other day, and sometimes the intervals are 
still greater. Incubation lasts about eighteen days, and 
both sexes assist in this labor. 
The parents are devoted to their young, and when in- 
cubation is well advanced the bird will sometimes allow 
itself to be caught on the nest rather than abandon its 
eggs. The nestlings, when disturbed, make a clicking 
noise with their bills. When taken young they are 
readily tamed, soon becoming attached to their captor, 
showing a great deal of sagacity and making amusing 
and interesting pets. 
The eggs of the road-runner are white in color and un- 
spotted, mostly ovate and short ovate, and rarely elliptical 
ovate in shape. The shell consists of two layers, the lower 
one close and fine grained, always pure white, without 
gloss; the upper, a mere film similar to that covering the 
