teful; and the cool trade wind coming through a gap in the
hills most refreshing.

Suddenly there was a flash--we all waked up--was that the house owner?
What a remarkable bird! and what a display of color!--it had a red head,
fiery in the sun; a black back, and a vivid yellow breast. On looking it
up in Ridgway the stranger proved to be the Louisiana tanager, a high
mountain bird. That was a red letter day for me. No one can know,
without experiencing it, the delight of such discoveries. The pleasure
is as genuine as if the world were made anew for you. In the excitement
the oriole's nest was neglected; but ordinarily the rare unknown birds
did not detract from the enjoyment of the old, more familiar ones.

So when the brilliant stranger flew away and was seen no more I turned
with pleasure to the pair of sparrow hawks who had come to live on the
ranch. A branch had fallen from one of the trees, and the hawks found
its hollow just suited to their needs. It was a good, spacious house,
but a pair of their cousins who had built in a tree over the whitewashed
hovel had made a sad mistake in choosing their dwelling--for the front
door was so small they could hardly enter! I used to stop to watch them,
and was very much amused at their efforts to make the best of it.

Canello could stand up to his knees in alfilaree clover under their
tree, so he allowed me to watch the birds in peace. The first day the
male sparrow hawk flew to the tree with what looked like a snake
dangling from his bill, and as he alighted screamed _kit-kit'ar'r'r'r'_,
spreading his wings and shaking them with emphasis. When this
brought no response, he flew from branch to branch, crying out lustily.
He revolved around the end of a broken limb in whose small hollow was
framed the head of Madame Falco. From her height she looked like a rag
doll at her window. Her funny round face, which filled the doorway, had
black spots for bill and eyes, and dark lines down the cheeks that might
have simulated rag doll tattooing.

Evidently there was some reason why she did not want to come to
breakfast. Once she started to turn back into the nest, but at last
laboriously wedged her way out of the hole and flew to a branch. Her
mate was at her side in an instant, and handed her the snake. She took
it greedily and flew off with it, let us hope because she was afraid of
me, not because she did not want to divide with him, or thought he would
ask her to, after all his d