could wait an hour for an ordinary hummingbird, I could wait
a morning for an absent phainopepla.

From the nest the beautiful bird flew to the bare oak top behind it
which he used for a perch, and--alas! gave his warning call. I was
discovered. He dashed his tail, turned his head to look at me first from
one side and then from the other, and then flew to the top of the
highest tree in sight to verify his observations. Whether he recognized
the object as his pepper-tree acquaintance, I do not know; but to my
great relief he went back to his work. By this time the little tree
which had seemed such a comfortable chair had undergone a change--I felt
as if stretched upon the gridiron of St. Anthony. Climbing down stiffly,
I kneeled behind the brush and practiced focusing my glass on the nest
so that it would not catch the light and frighten the bird, when out he
flew from the nest and sat down facing me in broad daylight! He did not
say a word, but looked around abstractedly, as if hunting for material.

If he were so indifferent, perhaps it would be safe to creep nearer.
Following the paths trodden by the bare feet of the school children, and
spying and skulking, I crept into a good hiding-place about a rod from
the nest. The ground was covered with dead leaves, and I saw a
suggestive round hole--a very large rattlesnake had been killed a few
rods away the week before. I covered the hole with my cloak and then sat
down on the lid--nothing could come up while I was there, at all events.

The phainopepla worked busily for some time, flying rapidly back and
forth with material. Then came the warning cry. I drew in my note-book
from the sun so that it should not catch his eye, and waited. The hot
air grew hotter, beating down on my head. A big lizard wriggled over the
leaves, and I thought of my rattlesnake. Then Billy sneezed in a forced
way, as though to remind me not to go off without him. Growing
restless, I moved the bushes a little--they were so stiff they made a
very good chair-back if one got into the right position--when suddenly,
looking up I saw my phainopepla friend vault into the air from a bush
behind me, where, apparently, he had been sitting taking notes of his
own! What observers birds are, to be sure! The best of us have much to
learn from them.

But though the phainopepla was most watchful, he was open to conviction,
and he and his mate at last concluded that I meant them no harm.
Afterwards, when I move