Bird Life in the Patagonia Mountains 
During the last three weeks in July I camped 
in the Patagonias. The summer had been an un¬ 
usually dry one and the country was parched 
and bare. The loss in cattle on the ranges was 
all the way from 30 to 70 per cent., the latter 
figure more nearly representing the actual loss. 
While it costs practically nothing to raise cattle 
in Southern Arizona, such losses may not mean 
actual ruination; yet it does mean beginning 
again at the grass roots of fortune. While such 
a thing may not again occur in the life of the 
average man, it is liable to turn up at any time. 
The Patagonia Mountains lie just north of 
the international line in Central Southern Ari¬ 
zona. They are principally covered with Emory 
oak, a black live oak common along the Mexican 
border. Under all ordinary conditions it is an 
evergreen, the new leaves pushing off the old 
with but little or no discernible difference to the 
tree. This usually takes place in midsummer, 
the moult commencing late in June and continu¬ 
ing through to August when everything is fresh 
and green. But this year, because of the extreme 
dryness, the old leaves fell off before the new 
leaves were ready to come on. Whether large 
or small, the body of the tree is black, and this 
gave the mountain the appearance of being fire 
swept. The leaves had fallen among the coarse 
mountain grass and padded the ground. July 10 
came the first semi-torrential storm. The rain 
shot down in great splashes, but the leaves and 
grass held it in place, and the effect was soon 
apparent. Within a week the trees had com¬ 
menced tO’ leaf out, and by the end of the month 
the hills were glorious in their newly found ver¬ 
dure. As usual with such storms, flashes of 
lightning apparently covered the whole country. 
While crossing an open space near the old Mowry 
smelter, at an elevation of 5,400 feet, I saw such 
a flash knock an umbrella from the hands of a 
woman about two hundred yards away, and al¬ 
most directly in front of me it knocked an ant¬ 
eating woodpecker out of a tree. For some 
minutes it lay on the ground fluttering its wings. 
It slowly recovered, and when I picked it up it 
had strength enough to peck my hand. A little 
later I allowed it to fly away. At first it kept 
close to the ground, but finally gained strength 
enough to “take to the tall timber.” 
This bird ( M. formicivorus ) is the common 
woodpecker of the hills. It is everywhere full 
of industry and combativeness. The nesting sea¬ 
son was over, and they had nothing to do but 
take care of the acorns and quarrel. In the old 
town of Harshaw I saw one of them storing 
away acorns in the crack of an old adobe wall. 
These acorns, better known in this country as 
“ballotes,” are gathered and eaten by both In¬ 
dians and Mexicans. They have an acrid, bitter 
taste, but are highly prized as an article of food 
and are eaten without further preparation. As 
the children of the Atlantic States eat chestnuts, 
so the Indian and Mexican children of the South¬ 
west eat the acorn of the Quercus emoryi. In 
a great canon leading from the Sonoyta into the 
Patagonias I found whole families of Indians 
from the Papagueria more than fifty miles to 
the west. Innocently enough one bunch of them 
had made their camp immediately over the graves 
of the last two men killed in the canon. They 
had come to gather ballotes and the white man’s 
dead was no concern of theirs. 
In the canons these Emory oaks grow to enor¬ 
mous size, not high, but wide spreading. They 
mast in July and August, and at this time band¬ 
tailed pigeons can be had in almost limitless 
numbers in them. Higher up in the range I 
G. A. HAMILTON (“FORKED DEER”). 
found these birds thinly scattered, seldom more 
than a half dozen together, but in the lower 
canons during masting season they were in great 
flocks. They had an average weight of about 
fourteen ounces and were quite fat. In the 
higher reaches of the mountains the Arizona jay 
and the ant-eating woodpeckers were the domi¬ 
nating birds. They were everywhere among the 
oaks and always noisy. Although there were 
few doves scattered through the hills, they were 
to be found by thousands on the Sonoyta, a par¬ 
tially cultivated valley lying between the Santa 
Rita and Patagonia Mountains. The white-winged 
and Mexican ground doves were especially 
numerous. The latter were busy with their sec¬ 
ond brood in midsummer, and the former 
seem to be always nesting. I heard of a few 
Inca doves having been seen thereabouts, but 
they were considered a great rarity. They are, 
however, very common on the Santa Cruz. The 
little ground dove is always full of antics when 
they have young in the nest. They will play 
lame and broken-winged in their efforts to lead 
one away from their ugly little progeny. They 
never allow themselves to be caught, but the in¬ 
ducement to give them a run for their money 
is almost always there. Up in the range I found 
the canon towhee addicted to the same trick. 
In July the hill birds were rtiostly in the moult. 
Bridled titmice and painted redstarts were little 
bunches of rags. The jays and orioles met with 
were nearly as disreputable looking. Mocking¬ 
birds were everywhere found nesting, as was 
also the black-headed grosbeak. The singing of 
the males was apparently never ending. It ap¬ 
peared to be almost nip and tuck as to which 
could make the most noise. For the first time 
I found Texas night hawks in the trees. They 
were in beautiful plumage. Flycatchers were 
everywhere numerous, and all nesting, the ash- 
throated and Arkansas were particularly com¬ 
mon. One peculiarity in the changing conditions 
of bird life is to be found in the number of red¬ 
eyed Mexican cowbirds. A few years ago they 
were not to be found in the country. At this 
time they are quite common. I found a few 
small flocks in the hills and any number of them 
in the valleys. On the Sonoyta they were mov¬ 
ing up and down in large bunches, and on the 
Santa Cruz they are no longer a rarity. Nearly 
two years ago they were reported as far north 
as the middle Gila. 
I was greatly surprised at the scarcity of smal' 
mammals in the Patagonias. Although I trapped 
extensively, I caught but few things. I found 
a small colony of spotted squirrels (Citcllus spilo- 
sovia). These were kindly identified for me by 
Mr. Howell, Agricultural Department, Washing¬ 
ton. The large gray ground squirrels were 
everywhere plentiful, as was also Holzner’s 
cottontail rabbit. The type specimen of this 
rabbit was taken in the Huachucas, a neighbor¬ 
ing range, by Dr. Mearns when the last boundary 
survey was made. In the way of very small 
mammals I took only some common house mice, 
and they were found about the camp buildings. 
I also collected a few nice reptiles, but nothing 
that would set the world afire. 
Herbert Brown. 
The Book on the Passenger Pigeon. 
The frequent mention pf the passenger pigeon, 
which has been going on for some months, has 
created a new demand for Mr. Mershon’s very 
interesting volume on this subject, published two 
or three years ago. We are glad to be able to 
advise anyone interested in the subject that we 
can furnish the volume at $3 a copy. 
The First Story of a Sheep Hunt. 
The early account of mountain sheep hunting, 
printed in Forest and Stream of Oct. 29, has 
aroused much interest not only among sports¬ 
men, but among naturalists. Dr. J'. A. Allen, the 
eminent mammalogist of the American Museum 
of Natural History, at once pointed out the 
similarity of that account to the one written by 
Geoffroi in the “Annales du Museum d'PIistoire 
Naturelle,” tom 2, pag. 360, a quotation from 
which is given by Desmarest in Volume 24, of 
the “Nouveau Dictionnaire d’Histoire Naturelle,” 
