. A-birding on a bronco . ar voices farther down the line ofoaks, voices of little friends I had made on myfirst visit to California, and had always remem-bered with lively interest as the jauntiest, mostindividual bits of humanity I had ever known infeathers. So, when Mountain Billy and I couldbe spared by the other bird families we werewatching, we set out to hunt up the little bluishgray western gnatcatchers. The (sand) stream that widened under thewrens sycamores narrowed up the canyon to a —dry ditch, I should say, if it were not disrespect-ful to speak that way of a channel that once a y
. A-birding on a bronco . ar voices farther down the line ofoaks, voices of little friends I had made on myfirst visit to California, and had always remem-bered with lively interest as the jauntiest, mostindividual bits of humanity I had ever known infeathers. So, when Mountain Billy and I couldbe spared by the other bird families we werewatching, we set out to hunt up the little bluishgray western gnatcatchers. The (sand) stream that widened under thewrens sycamores narrowed up the canyon to a —dry ditch, I should say, if it were not disrespect-ful to speak that way of a channel that once a yearcarries a torrent which excavates canals in themeadows. Billy and I started up this sand ditch,so narrow between its weed-grown banks thatthere was barely room for us, and so arched overin places by chaparral that we could get throughonly when Billy put down his ears and I bowedlow on the saddle. We had not gone far before we heard the gnat-catchers, bluish gray mites with heads that are LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT. 39. Nest of Western Gnatcatcher.(From a photograph.) always cocked on one side or the other to lookdown at something, and long tails that are alwaysflipping about as their owners flaunt gayly throughthe bushes. At sound of their voices I pulledBilly up out of the ditch, and, slipping from hisback, sat down on the ground to wait for thebirds. Eureka! there, in a slender young oakon the edge of the stream not a rod away, one ofthe pair was gliding off its nest, a beautiful lichen-covered, compact little structure such as I hadadmired years before. I was jubilant. What a 40 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. relief! I had fully expected it to be inside thedense brush, where no mortal could tell what wasgoing on; and here it was out in the plain lightof day. What a delightful time I should havewatching it! Before leaving the spot, in im-agination I had followed the brood out into theworld and filled a note-book with the quaint airsand graces of the piquant pair. When insinuating
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectbirds, bookyear1896
