16 ' THE CONDOR Vol. XXI shelf is cleared, would seem to make it peculiarly acceptable. The composition, or rather the setting of the nest, even more than in ease of V148 suggests com- plete harmony with its surroundings. For, curiously enough, there are some fallen wisps or bunches of the yellow-green lichen at the base of nearly every tree hereabouts, and as likely as not a considerable admixture of the blackbeard moss. In searching, therefore, one sees dozens of spots which precisely resemble this one, nest and all. The bird had just gone into shadow today as I made my appearance at 1:15 P. ?t. I have considerable time, therefore, to accustom her to the presence of the camera before the next full sunshine fails. The male sings a little in the offing jusL to let her know he is on the job. At my first approach the female allowed me to come within five feet, then dashing silently off and downward, fluttered ostentatiously over the ground. I retired while she had a bug or two, exchanged confidences with her solicitous mate, made a feint or two and was back, within five minutes. At my second approach I got within three feet before she flushed. Th5n she flew silently about 15 feet before she cheeked, and began to fluttter la- boriously, with tail depressed and wings held high. i retired and she was back, by direct descent from. an overhead limb, within two minutes. Thereafter follows nearly an hour of getting acquainted--so successful, indeed, that I am miserable over Lhe prospect of either horn of the dilemma, taking or leaving the eggs. I make advances quite professionally, but my heart does not go out, and my meth- ods are both harsh and hasty. Nevertheless, when the shadow does clear at three o'clock, I have the bird tamed so that i can go right up with the Graflex and bang away at two feet. This I did ad nauseare, and the bird never stirred. But when I brought up the Premo and tripod and stood it over her, then there was trouble. She would stand the camera, but she wouldn'.t let me put out my hand to snap it. But she was plucky! Back and forth she went, back and forth,--till, finally, I took charge of the situation and photographed the eggs. Then I put my photo- graphic apparatus up, intending to take the eggs in spite of all conscience. But the way that bird recovered those eggs would have melted the heart of a rhino- ceros. I photographed her some more, then sat down to write these notes. The e-?gs are exceptionally large and handsome with heavy red spotting. The nest ?rould be a prize in itself, composed, as it is, chiefly of blackbeard lichen, whose skirts overlie heavy clumps of Evernia lichen, like lace over silk. The nesting hollow is, of course, of fine dry grass. During our prolonged seance we were visited by several curious birds, nota- bly a pair of Red-breasted Nuthatches. Once I found my Graflex camera unwit- ting]y pointed at a nuthatch not over six feet away; but alas! I had on the Ross lens, whose minimum range is 11 feet. 215/3-16 Townsend Solitaire; Squaw Creek; alt. 7800 feet; July 14, 1916: At the first sound of a singing Solitaire, I set to work to look for nests at the foot of the trees. Almost immediately I. found one tucked away in a cranny under the base of a giant Shasta fir, so completely concealed, indeed, that not a twig of its fourteen-inch spread could be seen from a point straight above. The twigs were in perfect condition, but the disarray of the grass lining, as well as the sod- den condition of the only bit of moss, blackbeard lichen, which the structure boasted, apprised one that he was viewing an old nest, presumably last year's. The hillside here carries a magnificent forest of Shasta firs, each with its curve-kneed base and its lichen-covered shelf on the under side. The ground was, also, sharply sloping and, although a west exposure, is still half covered with
