3 2 THE CONDOR I Vol. IV hunted nests of the curlew systemati- cally, knows that when you get near a nest, say within five hundred yards, the first movement of the male is to fly overhead from somewhere, cackle his disapproval, and alight near you, gen- erally within fifty yards. Then you should turn either to the right or left of him, and walk onward; if he pays no further attention to you, you are on the wrong lead; but if he arises and flies near you again, cackling as before, you are getting nearer the object of your quest. So on this occasion, a male came cackling and gave the usual signs that his spouse was somewhere within a radius of several hundred yards, sit- ting on her four large handsome eggs. By following my system, I soon had the nmle flying straight at me. should further explain that when you are getting near the nest, say within three hundred yards, the male begins to fly out a long distance from you, turns quickly, and strikes a direct line for your head. Moreover, he generally flies toward the nest, so that the male, your head, and the nest are in one straight line, and you have only to search in the line of his flight to find the female flattened out over her treas- ures. It is all easy enough, but on this particular day the males seemed to be more vigilant and jealous than usual, and hence I made the mistake of not following the clue far enough. Hav- ing spent at least an hour in a vain ef- fort to find this nest, I crossed into an adjacent pasture, where another male began to manifest his displeasure at my invasion, and was soon flying at me. This male led me a merry chase for two hours; when it seemed that I should be quite near the nest, he would alight near me and leisurely glean among the scant herbage, apparently quite indiff- erent regarding my movements. At length I gave up in disgust, and left this center for more profitable localities. However, several days later I found both these nests, with eggs far advanced in incubation, after less than thirty minutes search when I had caught the first clue; I hope to get to these later. Disappointed at my failure to find nests of the curlew, I went onward across the bench, and reached a wide irrigating ditch, bordered by a narrow growth of weeds and bushes. A marsh hawk tumbling end over end high in air gave me reason to believe that I might find a nest in the bushes, so I be- gan to search among the rose thickets. Finding nothing in the rose-patches, I gave attention to the lower growth of waxberry, alung the outer edge of the weedy areas. Soon a Columbian sharp- tailed grouse fluttered heavily from be- neath my feet, exposing her nest among upright stems of the bushes. It is re- markable how open a nest can be, and yet seem entirely concealed from view. I could easily look down and count the fourteen eggs in this nest, but had the hen seen fit to remain with her charge, her youngsters might now be affording sport to stone of the Sunday gunners. It is from long habit as a breaker of the game laws, I suppose. that the oolo- gist feels a guilty feeling when a chick- en or other game bird flutters from un- der his feet, revealing her nest nicely packed with eggs. Of course I looked around, making sure that the thunder- ous whirring 6f her wings had not alarmed the occupants of the house less than a half mile distant. Then I sank to tl?e ground, and prepared to pack those fourteen coffee-brown eggs, eas- ing my coascience with the thought that our game law allows the gunner the right to kill not more than twenty birds in one day in the open season, and I was simply taking mine in the egg in the spring while the sportsman prefers his in the feather in the fall. As I was not out for grouse eggs, I should not take another set that day, and especially one of fourteen. So I lifted out the eggs one by one, packed them in a cigar box, and made my data. Nest of dried grass, scantily lined with downy feathers; cavity seven inches in diameter, two inches deep, open at the
