Nov., 1916 
MEETING SPRING PI ALE WAY 
215 
At our first lunch camp beyond Sauz Ranch a thunderstorm overtook us 
just as the Texan had lit the fire. He had gathered his firewood painfully, 
complaining, “There’s plenty of that little bresh, but its mighty thorny I can 
tell you!” and loath to have to gather a second batch, when the rain began, 
slipped the bake oven over his fire. Fifteen or twenty minutes later when 
about two inches of rain had fallen and his fire was out, the old man, standing 
in the water remarked, facetiously, “A little more and this would have been 
a right smart rain”. 
While waiting for the roads to dry off a little we walked around among 
the bushes where the Thrashers and other birds were singing and the White- 
winged Dove was hooting like an Owl. In the cactus we found nests of Curve- 
billed Thrasher and Cactus Wren, while the Bullock Oriole, Chat, Yellow 
Warbler, Summer Tanager, Bewick Wren, Roadrunner, Shrike, and the small 
Texas Woodpecker added interest to the hour. 
In going on we realized that we were nearing Mexico, for at a roadside 
store, where strings of garlic hung on the wall, we got two dollars of Mexican 
money for one of United States coin. 
Thirty-five miles from the Mexican line we forded Rio Coloral, formerly 
one of the mouths of the Rio Grande. Here we found Spotted Sandpipers, a 
flock of White-winged Doves, a Fish Hawk catching fish, and a Mockingbird 
with a nest in a blooming tuni cactus. In this, the land of the Mockingbird, one 
of the birds would often start a moonlight chorus, birds of other kinds joining 
in as they awoke, the Cassin Sparrow being among the nocturnal choristers. 
These nocturnal concerts which have been described by other field workers, 
were among the most delightful features of our life in the open. In the thick- 
ets beyond Rio Coloral we found the Sennett Oriole and the handsome Green 
Jay, a Mexican bird just ranging up into southern Texas. Fresh deer tracks 
were also seen. 
Twenty-three miles from Mexico we camped for a night near a Mexican 
hackell where we got centime) leche, saw women carrying big milk cans on their 
shoulders and Senors in pointed hats and Senoritas in black rebozas. In sight 
of camp Jack rabbits nibbled grass and ambled about trustingly. A Caracara 
flew by, at which, to our amusement, a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher dashed after 
him and pouncing down, rode on his back till they were out of sight. Texas 
Woodpeckers and Orioles were in evidence, and Cowbirds fed around the 
mules. But our camp was named Parauque Camp for the Parauque, a new 
bird to me, a Mexican bull bat that comes up into southern Texas and whose 
hoarse pa-rau' -que called us hurriedly from our camp fire. Out in the mes- 
quites it would fly from one bare spot to another catching insects like a Poor- 
will. 
The next day there was one long stretch of white daisies framed by mes- 
quite, daisies smaller and with finer petals than the eastern flower but effect- 
ive in the mass when turned toward the sun. In the main it was a day of 
blooming cactus, splendid masses of it in fuller bloom than we had found it 
before ; a day that gave new meaning to the word cactus to me. Never again 
would it stand for spine-covered grotesque forms of vegetation. Does the 
desert bloom like a rose? No, it blooms like a cactus! Nature strews your 
path with thorns, it is true, but only to ensure the flowers, big generous blooms 
of gorgeous hues, bright lemon, soft saffron, dull orange, magenta, and glow- 
ing crimson. Seven species there were along our way. Lowly ground clusters 
