July, 1901 1 
THIi CONDOR 
97 
Saturday is the only available day and 
magnificent distances must be traversed 
in this region to cover the ground, two 
sets of this species may represent a fair 
day’s work. 1 am disposed to make the 
statement even stronger, for the follow- 
ing Saturday was spent in a fruitless 
tramp up one “coulee” and down an- 
other, a gentle blizzard prevailing most 
of the time; and upon my return, worn 
and weary, 1 passed most of the follow- 
ing evening reading about the taking of 
Horned Owl’s eggs and congratulating 
myself that the excursion of the pre- 
vious Saturday had resulted so satisfac- 
torily. 
Early in the morning of March 16, 
we set out for a drive along the creek 
which hurries through our home town, 
forming a narrow bottom, set here and 
there with cottonwoods overtopping the 
haw and willow thickets. Most of the 
hawk’s nests along our route were 
well-known to me, and this fact pre- 
sented a well defined method of pro- 
cedure, — the inspection of all the old 
nests within reach that day. Owing to 
the heavy condition of the roads and 
other hindering circumstances, about 
eleven o’clock we found ourselves not 
more than ten miles from home, but 
near a promising grove containing a 
nest that formed a huge black spot 
among the naked branches of the cotton- 
wood clump. We approached the place 
with that indefinable feeling known 
only to the egg-crank when he is near- 
ing what may be a good thing but is 
yet of doubtful outcome, anticipation 
crowding to tlie front only to be met by 
the ghost ()f disappointment. But see! 
there on the rim of the nest stands the 
lord of the household, and above the 
dark outline of the stucture projects 
the tell tale tufts of the sitting house- 
wife. A moment later we can see her 
eyes staring upon us with angr}" de- 
fiance, and her plumicorns flutter in the 
wind as she raises her head to glare up- 
on the intruders of the wildwood prem- 
ises. Alarmed at the invasion, the male 
drops downward and flaps down the 
creek, and in another moment the fe- 
male deserts her home and flies across 
the stream to another grove, leaving 
us master of the situation. 
The nest was in a triple crotch in the 
main part of the tree, which was a 
medium-sized cottonwood (medium- 
sized for Montana, not Illinois), the 
lower half of which was thickly grown 
with sprouts and deadened branches. 
One of the boys ascended to the nest, 
while I occupied the anxious seat and 
gave sundry directions to the climber. 
In a short time he drew himself up over 
the nest and shouted, “Four eggs, bigger 
than hen-eggs.” Giving him repeated 
suggestions regarding the packing and 
lowering of the eggs, I danced around 
upon the ground below, until presently 
I reached up and grasped the lard pail 
containing the treasures. Ah, what re- 
lief when the spoils were placed safely 
beside the lunch basket, and the notes 
hastily jotted in my tablet! A chip was 
knotted into the chalk-line at the brim 
of the nest, and when measured with a 
five foot tape line .showed a height of 
thirty-two feet nine inches from the 
ground. The nest was one of last 
sea.son’s use by either Swainson’s Hawk 
or the Ferruginous Rough-leg, and had 
been prepared by a scant supply of 
downy feathers, probabl}^ furnished b}- 
the present occupants of the nest. 
The next objective point was a nest 
about three miles back toward home. 
Having eaten our lunch, we turned and 
followed the water course until we 
reached the .second nest, which like the 
first was a conspicuous mark, being in 
a lone cottonwood leaning directly ov^er 
the water. Riding forward with the 
mad gallop common to Montana cow- 
boys, the boys returned and announced, 
“She’s on there all right. Them horns 
give her away.” Sure enough, there 
sat the angered mistress of the Bubo 
mansion, with head reared to face the 
unusual visitors. This Mrs. Bubo re- 
quired more demonstration to cause her 
to desert her home, but when the 
climber began to scratch among the 
