und, scratching, or picking up seeds; or
else quarreling among themselves. Feeling that it was my duty to watch
them, I reasoned with myself, but they seemed so mortally dull and
uninteresting it was hard work to give up any time to them. When they
went to nesting, their wild instincts asserted themselves, and they hid
away so closely I was never sure of but one of their nests, and that
only by most cautious watching. Then for the first time they became
interesting! To my surprise, one day I heard a brown chippie lift up his
voice and sing. It was in a sunny grove of oaks, and though his song was
a queer squeaky warble, it had in it a good deal of sweetness and
contentment; for the bird seemed to find life very pleasant. The
ranchman's son told me that up in the canyons at dusk he had sometimes
heard towhee concerts, the birds answering each other from different
parts of the canyon.

[Illustration: California Chewink.

(One half natural size.)]

[Illustration: Eastern Chewink.

(One half natural size.)]

There was a nest in the chaparral which probably belonged to these
chewinks. It was in a mass of poison ivy that had climbed up on a
scrub-oak. I spent the best part of a morning waiting for the birds to
give in their evidence. Brown sentinels were posted on high bare brush
tops, where they chipped at me, and once a brown form flew swiftly away
from the nest bush; but like most people whose conversation is limited
to monosyllables, the towhees are good at keeping a secret. While
watching for them, I heard a noise that suggested angry cats spitting at
each other; and three jack-rabbits came racing down the
chaparral-covered knoll. One of them shot off at a tangent while the
other two trotted along the openings in the brush as if their trails
were roads in a park. Then a cottontail rabbit came out on a spot of
hard yellow earth encircled by bushes, and lying down on its side kicked
up its heels and rolled like a horse; after which the pretty thing
stretched itself full length on the ground to rest, showing a pink light
in its ears. After a while it got up, scratched one ear, and with a kick
of one little furry leg ran off in the brush. Another day, when I sat
waiting, I saw a jack-rabbit's ears coming through the brush. He trotted
up within a few feet, when he stopped, facing me with head and ears up;
a noble-looking little animal, reminding me of a deer with antlers
branching back. He stood looking at me, not knowi