200 
BIRDS OF NEW MEXICO 
In the smaller mountain ranges visited we met with few Grouse. 
In the beautiful parks on the crest of the San Juan range in September, 
1904, the only ones we saw were two great cocks that rose before us 
with a whir and flew swiftly into the conifers. A month later two old 
cocks were taken at 10,000 feet in the Jemez Mountains, both in the 
midst of their molt, having partly new and partly old wing and tail 
feathers, but a body cover dense enough to protect them from the cold, 
which was important as snow had already fallen at 10,200 feet. Grouse 
“sign” was found in the Jemez Mountains about five hundred feet higher, 
also at the foot of a Douglas spruce near the top of Pinyon Mountain in 
October, 1906, where the apparent absence of the birds themselves 
seemed accounted for by the fact that two Golden Eagles were hunting 
carefully through that strip of fir. 
Even the discovery that the big birds had lived along our trail 
brought enjoyment. But our pleasantest experience with Dusky 
Grouse in New Mexico was at 11,000 feet on Pecos Baldy, where an old 
hen and her brood after a short acquaintance trustingly accepted us as 
neighbors. We discovered them when climbing up on the grassy slope be¬ 
side our camp, a sunny slope dotted with Mariposa lilies and bountifully 
supplied with patches of wild strawberry. As I have recorded it, “Half 
way up the hill two little Grouse about a third grown sprang from the 
long grass at Mr. Bailey’s feet, one whizzing off in one direction and 
one in another. Quick as a flash the mother appeared from behind a 
rock close by and i sputtered and fussed/ standing for some time within 
five feet of the enemy, effectually distracting his attention from her 
brood. Hoping that she would wait, he called me to bring the camera, 
but on my approach she started up the hill leading us to the woods, 
pointing the way with flags flying—head, crest, and tail up, an alert, 
conspicuous figure.” 
On reaching the cover of the woods I waited for the old bird to 
compose herself and on coming out “ found her sitting quietly by a log on 
the edge of the woods. I wanted to get her into the light to photograph 
her and she let me drive her a few steps at a time until one of her brood 
hidden by the log flew up into a tree. Instantly the little hen, which had 
been demurely permitting me to shoo her around, was transformed into 
the alert, anxious mother, and hurried back into the woods evidently 
expecting me to follow. Instead, I sat down on the grass and kept quiet. 
After some time I was rewarded by the faintest possible call from 
behind me, and looking keenly in its direction discovered her creeping 
cautiously out of the dark woods, crest and head down, tail hanging. 
Not seeing me she came out to the edge of the meadow, mounted a log, 
and giving a low cluck, such as a motherly hen gives when quieting her 
brood, she emitted two loud characteristic, wild, whistling notes, on the 
instant leaning forward, craning her neck to listen. From the grass 
