Nov. ,1916 
RESULTS OF A WINTER’S OBSERVATIONS IN ARIZONA 
211 
the mountains. L. S. Wylie, on the boundary of whose chicken ranch we 
camped, and to whom I am greatly indebted for innumerable kindnesses, is much 
bothered by these owls. He states that one will alight on a branch where a chick- 
en is roosting. The latter will awaken and shriek, but is too scared to move. The 
owl then sidles along and grabs the fowl by the neck. Bubo begins to pair here 
in January, or possibly earlier, and eggs may be expected during the latter part 
of February. I shot a male bird from a palo verde on March 10, and then dis- 
covered the female on a nest nearby. I returned on the 19th and took the female 
as she left the nest, but was much surprised -when a small male flushed not 
twenty feet away. She evidently did not mourn her first venture very long. 
I had always understood that an owl is in the habit of killing its prey by a 
single bite through the head or neck, and, indeed, I have had indubitable evidence 
that such is often the case. However, on the first of the year, I flushed an owl 
from the ground, and discovered that it had abandoned a freshly-killed cotton- 
tail. I skinned the latter and found no marks on it except a few claw punctures, 
which, however, did not seem to penetrate deeply, and which were confined to 
the trunk of the animal. 
I took seven specimens of screech owls from the sahuaro holes. Three of 
these II. S. Swarth pronounces cineraceus, and four gilmani, so it is apparent 
that the former sometimes descends from the mountains during the cold weather 
and invades the haunts of the latter. During storms those holes in the sahuaros 
which face towards the wind are half filled with water. This remains for a con- 
siderable time, a state of affairs that aids one in the search for screech owls, for, 
instead of seeking a dry shelter, the birds prefer to stick to the old home, even 
though such action necessitates their spending the day in the opening of the hole, 
in full view of passersby. One Pygmy Owl ( Glaucidium g. ridgivayi ) was taken 
near a spring in the foothills. My eye was first caught by an Audubon Warbler 
which was fussing around a larger bird, the owl, as if the latter was one of its 
own immature offspring. As I approached the Pygmy, it flew to a neighboring 
cottonwood, still followed by the warbler. Due to one of those blunders which 
occasionally happens, I snapped my auxiliary at it at forty yards. In its more 
protracted flight this time, its satellite still held place, only desisting from its 
solicitous attention when I approached to retrieve the owl. 
This locality is a favorite one for collecting eggs of the Elf Owl ( Micropallas 
whitneyi) , and I learn from those with experience that two or even three sets 
may be expected from a morning’s hard work during the proper time of year. 
It has been supposed that some individuals, at least, of this species pass the win- 
ter in their summer home, but I had already suspected, from work done at Pot 
Holes, California, during the winter of 1913, that such might not be the case. L. 
M. Huey was with me during a part of my stay at Tucson, and together we spent 
many hours in examining the sahuaros with the aid of a light ladder. If the Elf 
Owl had been present, we would hardly have failed to encounter it, but not one 
was seen or heard. 
I had always supposed that the Road-runner ( Geococcyx calif ornianus) was 
a harmless bird, with a strong leaning towards the beneficial, but now I am not 
so sure of this fact. While I was out collecting, these abundant birds would 
often be seen skulking about with eyes open for any opportunity, and it was 
always necessary, in such case, to make a dash for a specimen after it was shot. 
On two occasions a Road-runner darted in and grabbed a bird when I had almost 
reached it, once hopping two feet in the air to nip a sparrow that had lodged in 
