Jan., 1902. 
THE CONDOR 
7 
birds that form one of the most characteristic features of this kind of country. A 
persistent squeaking would bring them from all directions, and out of unthought- 
of recesses in Kunzia or Ephedra bushes green-tailed towhees and young white- 
crowned sparrows would come tumbling with much fluttering of tails — and pre- 
sently the more demure vesper sparrows. But the sage thrashers always con- 
tented themselves with a distant seat among some golden chrysothamnus blos- 
soms, and craned their necks intjuisitively in my direction. Then a sudden 
movement would scatter the whole audience from this newl}' found attraction. The 
western house-wren is fond of the sage brush and spends much 
of its time slipping mouse-like among the lower branches of the Kunzia 
and Ephedra. Other birds that found congenial haunts in the 
open land were the dove, prairie falcon, Swainson hawk, poor- 
will, Say phoebe, Arkansas kingbird, California jay, meadow-lark. Brewer black 
bird, linnet and now and then a stray rock wren or mountain quail. I was told 
that sage-grouse occur in remote gulches where the sheep have not been, but I saw 
none. 
The pinyon hill had a little set all its own. Clarke crows came in great num- 
bers to feed upon the pine nuts, and had continual altercations with pinyon jays, 
sharp-shinned hawks, and likewise among themselves. It seemed strange to see 
them away from the windy cold altitudes with which cne usually associates them. 
The pinyon jays appeared continually in large flocks from the north. They usually 
made a noisy and cursory survey along the hillside and then departed southward 
with hoarse leave takings. On the tenth of September a large consignment of 
mountain chickadees arrived and worked among the pines mid much discussion 
and some singing- — that queer 
little song mentioned by Bar- 
low in the last September Con- 
dor. Hammond flycatchers 
were not uncommon on this hill, 
while mountain quail, Cabanis 
woodpeckers, flickers, California 
ja3'S, spurred towhees, green- 
tailed towhees, Audubon warb- 
lers and rock wrens were almost 
daily seen. One Louisiana tana- 
ger was observed and one nerv- 
ous robin. But the most not- 
able little bird of the whole hill 
— and of the whole west, to my 
notion, was a canyon wren that 
sang every morning among the 
big boulders till the very rocks 
rang. Altho the same song was 
repeated over and over I never 
tired of it. The big-tree thrush 
among shady solitudes of the 
forest has just claims for being 
considered the sweetest of all 
our western songsters, as Mr. 
Belding so truly maintains; but 
for audacity and the wild abandon of its music the canyon wren is certainly with- 
out a rival. To me he seems the most wonderful and weirdest of all our little birds. 
