Deh eA ULDIUSB-OUN 1 BU eb ala oN 9 
Castle Rock 
By JAMES N. LAYNE 
AS ONE DRIVES SOUTHWARD on Highway 87 from Denver, Colorado, a great 
hill soon appears in the distance. Its summit, high above the plain, is a 
huge rock formation whose sheer cliffs bear a striking resemblance to a 
medieval castle. Thus Castle Rock loomed before me that Sunday morning 
in May as I eagerly drove toward it. Larger and more imposing it grew 
as the miles slipped past, until finally the ribbon of concrete curved round 
its base and I came into the little town which lay in the shadow of the 
massive rock. 
Leaving the car beneath the great cottonwoods which lined the village 
street, I set out toward the edge of the town. The first species of bird 
that I noted, besides the common house finch, was the Lewis’ woodpecker. 
These large woodpeckers were quite numerous in the trees about me; and 
the early sun heightened the pleasant contrast between the dark rose color 
of their underbodies and the glossy blackiof their upper parts as they flew 
crow-like about in the air, which was filled with their cries. 
As I began to ascend the slopes at the outskirts of town, a female 
sparrow hawk flew overhead and landed on a telephone pole a short distance 
up the hillside. She was soon joined by her mate who, after a bit, left his 
perch and soared aloft. Rising several hundred feet, he cruised back and 
forth over the area. Suddenly checking his forward motion, he hung 
motionless, like a diminutive kite above the earth. Poised on still wings, 
the brightly colored falcon intently scanned the ground beneath. Then in 
a twinkling his wings were closed to his sides and like a stone he dropped, 
disappearing behind some boulders. His intended victim, a mouse or an 
insect, evidently escaped for he rose empty-clawed. Again he mounted 
upward to resume his tireless patrol. 
I must confess that as I neared the steep cliffs above I had eyes for 
little else than the white streaks which stained the walls in many places. 
Here was an almost definite sign that the prairie falcon, the bird I sought 
most to see this day, was close by, and perhaps even nested in the jagged 
cliffs. I had long dreamed of seeing this magnificent creature in action, 
and now through fate and the Army Air Forces I was in the region 
inhabited by these falcons. So, with my mind filled with the descriptions 
I had read of their wild beauty and dashing flight, I continued my climb 
with increased speed. 
The hillside about me was alive with towhees. Although positive 
identification was impossible, I believe that they were the spurred towhee 
as that is the sub-species of chewink common to that section of Colorado. 
They were not in the least shy, permitting me to come within several feet 
as they perched in the scrub oaks before dropping to the ground. Once 
on the ground they would vigorously rustle about in the dry leaves which 
lay between the boulders. 
Finally I stood in the cool shadows of the overhanging cliff. It was 
here that I found several “castings,” the discovery of which strengthened 
