pitched his tent on the farthest outpost of my ranch in a little
bunch of willows, weeds, and mustard--long since converted into a
well-kept prune orchard. The nest, which was a big round mass of sticks,
was inside the willows in a clump of dry stalks about six feet from the
ground. I had hardly found it before one of the builders swooped down to
it right before my eyes, with the hardihood of one who fears no man;
though it must be acknowledged that the shrikes, like other birds on the
ranch, were so used to grazing horses they quite naturally took me for a
cattle herder.

In this case Canello did not act as my ally. He had been quiet and
docile most of the morning, but now was hungry and saw some grass he
was bent on having, so took the bit in his teeth and made such an
obstinate fight that, before I had conquered him, the shrikes had left
the premises and my call was finished without my hosts.

On my next visit Canello behaved in more seemly manner, and permitted me
to see something of the ways of the maligned birds. You would not have
known them from any one else except for the remarkable stillness of
their neighborhood. Some finches flew overhead as if meaning to stop,
but saw the shrike and went on. I could hear the merry songs of the
assembly down in the sycamores, but not a bird lit while we were
there--the shrikes certainly have a bad name among their neighbors. They
had a proud bearing and an imperative manner, but seemed so gentle and
human in their domestic life that my prejudices were softened, as one's
generally are by near acquaintance, and I became really very fond of my
handsome tenants.

It looked as if the shrike fed his mate. At any rate, they worked
together and rested together, perching in lordly fashion high on the
willows overlooking their home. They did not object to observers when at
work. One day, when Canello's nose appeared by the nest, the builder
looked at him over her shoulder and then quietly slid off the nest,
flying up on her perch to wait till he should leave. It was a temptation
to keep her waiting some time, for the shrike's corner was a pleasant
place to linger in. The sea-breeze was so strong it turned the willow
leaves white side out, and the beautiful glistening mustard grew so high
there that when Canello walked into it, the golden blossoms waved over
our heads. We haunted the premises till the birds had finished their
framework, put in a lining of snow-white plant cotton, an