far as it went. It proved that while
the female lacked the architect's instinct, she was not without the
maternal instinct. There were two eggs in the nest, and in the one hour
that I watched, each bird brooded the eggs six times. Before this, the
female had been to the nest so much less than the male that now she was
much shyer; but although Billy frightened her by tramping down the brush
near by, it was she who first overcame her fears and went to cover the
eggs.

XIX.

MY BLUE GUM GROVE.

ONE of the first things I did on getting settled on my ranch, the second
time I was in California, was to get a wagon and go down to my
eucalyptus grove for a load of the pale green aromatic boughs with which
to trim my attic study; for their fragrance is delightful and their
delicate blue-green tone lends itself readily to decorative purposes.
When the supply needed replenishing, I rode down on Mountain Billy and
carried home the sweet-smelling branches on the saddle.

The grove served a more utilitarian purpose, however. The eucalyptus is
an Australian tree, with narrow straight-hanging leaves, and its rapid
growth makes it useful for firewood. A tree will grow forty feet in four
years, and when cut off a few feet above the ground will spring up again
and soon be ready to yield another crop. My grove had never been cut,
but would soon be old enough. In the photograph of a eucalyptus avenue
near Los Angeles, the row of trees on the right have been cut near the
ground and the branching trunks are the consequence.

[Illustration: EUCALYPTUS AVENUE, SHOWING POLLARDED TREES ON THE RIGHT,
NEAR LOS ANGELES]

My eucalyptus or blue gum grove was down near the big sycamore, and
opposite the bare knoll where Romulus and the burrowing owls had their
nightly battles. On one side of it was a rustling cornfield always
pleasant to look at. After the bare yellow stubble and all the reds and
browns of a California summer landscape, its rich dark green color and
its stanch, strong stalks made it seem a very plain honest sort of
field, and its greenness was most grateful to eyes unused to the bright
colors and strong lights of California.

Opposite the little grove, in a small house perched on a hill, an old
sea-captain lived alone. As I rode by one day, he sat with his feet
hanging over the edge of the high piazza, looking off; as if on the prow
of his vessel, gazing out to sea. When I stopped to ask if he had seen
anything notewor