e had ridden through the
eucalyptus at his home in northern California. I too had pleasant
memories of the northern gums, but my first interest was in finding out
who lived in my little woods. A dog had once been seen driving a coyote
wolf out of it, but that was merely in passing. I did not expect to meet
wolves there. It was said, however, to be a good place for tarantulas,
so at first I stepped over the dead leaf carpet with great caution; but
never seeing any of the big spiders, grew brave and sat indifferently
right on the ground before the nests, or leaning up against the trees.
The ground was almost as hard as a rock, for the eucalyptus absorbed all
the moisture, and that may have had something to do with its freedom
from snakes and scorpions, though it would not explain the absence of
caterpillars and spiders, which just then were so common outside. Though
in the grove a great deal, I never ran into but one cobweb, and was
conscious of the pleasant freedom from falling caterpillars. Moreover, I
never saw a lizard in the blue gums, though dozens of them were to be
seen about the oaks and in the brush.

It was a surprise to find so many feathered folks living in the
eucalyptus, and I took a personal interest in each one of the
inhabitants. The first time we started to go up and down the avenues we
scared up a pair of turtle doves, beautiful, delicately tinted gentle
creatures, fit tenants of the lovely grove. They did not know my
friendly interest in them, and flew to the ground trailing and trying to
decoy me away in such a marked manner that when we passed a young dove a
few yards farther on, it was easy to put two and two together.

Yellow-birds called _cheet'-tee, ca-cheet'-ta-tee_, and the grove became
musical with the sweet calls of the young brood. There was one nest with
a roof of shaggy bark, and I wondered if the birds thought it would be
pleasant to live under a roof, or whether the bark had fallen down on
them after they built. I could get no trace of the owners of the nest,
and it troubled me, not liking to have any little homes in my wood that
I did not know all about. As we went down one aisle, a big bird went
blundering out ahead of us, probably an owl, for afterwards we stumbled
on a skeleton and feathers of one of the family.

In one of the trees we came to an enormous nest made of the unusual
materials that are sometimes chosen by that strange bird, the
road-runner. It was an exciting discover