Sept., 1913 
HERBERT BROWN— A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 
187 
peeling trips into the desert mountains of 
southern Arizona and northern Sonora. In 
those days the Apaches were a constant dan- 
ger in that region and Mr. Brown and his 
companions had a number of narrow escapes 
from tliem, as well as from death by thirst on 
the arid plains. Later he became interested 
in newspaper work in Tucson and for many 
years was reporter, editor or owner of vari- 
ous journals there, and was one of the best 
known and respected men among the pio- 
neers of the community. He had the instincts 
of a born naturalist and was a keen observer 
of nature long before he gained any definite 
knowledge of the subject. 
In 1883 I spent several months in Tucson 
and within a short time after my arrival met 
Herbert Brown. He expressed the greatest 
pleasure to have the opportunity to learn 
something about birds, saying that he had 
always been much interested in them but had 
never before met anyone who could give him 
any information on the subject. He soon 
learned to make good skins and became an 
enthusiastic field collector, making trips 
whenever he could spare a little time from 
confining duties. He soon came to know local 
birds very well and made a collection of 
skins which later he presented, with other 
scientific material, to the kluseum of the Uni- 
versity of Arizona. 
He told me of having seen “Bob-White’' 
quail on grassy plains south of Tucson dur- 
ing some of his earkc trips, and as a result of 
my interest in the matter he afterwards se- 
cured and sent to Mr. Ridgway the first 
specimen of the bird afterwards described as 
Colinus ridgwayi. Some years later while 
Superintendent of the prison at Yuma, he 
collected the type of the mountain lion fre- 
quenting the delta of the Colorado, Fells 
aztccus hrowiii Merriam. The common name 
of Melosplza melodia riviilaris — Brown’s _Song 
Sparrow of Lower California — was dedicated 
to him by his friend, Walter E. Bryant. 
I found in Herbert Brown a_ warm-hearted 
friend and delightful companion. He en- 
ioyed doing kindly acts for others, and so 
had many friends among both scientific and 
non-scientific men. He was curator of the 
Museum of the University of Arizona from 
the time it was founded, and. in addition, at 
the time of his death, he was President of the 
Audubon Society of Arizona and Clerk of 
the Superior Court of Pima County. — E. W. 
Nelson. 
COMMUNICATION 
collecting in PERU 
Editor The Condor: 
Again calling to mind that long postponed 
promise to write to you, I lay aside a couple 
of finished lapwings, push still farther away 
a waiting grebe and ibis, and commence. We 
are in the shooting lodge of the Cerro de 
Pasco Mining and Railway Company, located 
on the “Roof of the World”, to use the lan- 
guage of the railway folders. We are at 
13,000 feet elevation here, and the snow-capped 
Andes just across the lake seem only small 
hills, as compared to the view of them from 
the seaward side. 
Perhaps the most interesting view to us is 
the early morning outlook from the door. In 
the foreground is the flock of llamas that 
come to roost every evening about 100 yards 
from the door. Then a gentle slope of a mile 
to the lake, smooth as glass and with a flock 
of feeding flamingos on the edge ; beyond that 
the abruptly rising mountains, capped with 
snow and showing clear-cut against the sky. 
During the day the llamas feed down to the 
lake, so that when snipe shooting one has to 
be careful that a llama is not incidentally in 
range. The carrying power of a charge of 
powder is seemingly much greater here than 
at sea level, for I have made some shots that 
1 would not even have attempted below. A 
couple of flamingos were stopped last night 
from a flock that must have been from eighty 
to a hundred yards away. It seems somewhat 
odd to see flamingos standing in a pond being- 
peppered with hail stones, but it frequently 
happens here. One’s remembrance of wading 
into tropical lagoons after them, with nothing- 
on but drawers and undershirt, fades slowly 
from mind when they fly past with the snow- 
covered hills a mile away, and a cold sleety 
drizzle chilling one as he sits in a boat watch- 
ing them. 
And the mudhens ! How changed from the 
familiar California mudhen. The first one I 
shot seemed so much bigger than ours, though 
of the same general appearance, that I sup- 
posed I had in h.and the Giant Mudhen that 
is listed as occurring in Peru ; but some days 
later, while slowly rowing along an island 
bordered with tides, a really big mudhen rose 
from the edge and flew out onto the lake. It 
looked so big when rising and flapping on the 
water that I would have shot, hut my wife’s 
head being in the way, refrained, and so was 
compelled to row after it when it settled a 
half mile out on the choppy lake. 
Before I got to it, though going down the 
w'ind, I was puffing worse than I used to do 
on the choppy sea off Point Pinos when chas- 
ing a pair of Xantus Murrelets that would 
persist in swimming as fast as I could make 
the boat travel, until I was thoroughly wind- 
ed, when they would turn broadside on and 
show a pair of shark fins in place of the cov- 
eted murrelets. But I got this mudhen, and 
another yesterday, and giants they are ! While 
not as large as a large honker, they will cci- 
tainly surpass the majority of the geese that 
winter in California. And tough skinned ! I’d 
sooner skin an eagle. I skinned the first one 
but my cholo assistant skins any others that 
we get. The middle toe and claw of the one 
