“Whilst in California, during the last summer, (1852,) I was enabled to ascertain the western limit of this species as satisfactorily as I had previously ascertained its eastern limit within the State of Texas. And, although the extent of its range to the north is not yet clearly established, it may be said that the portion of our territory inhabited by this beautiful bird is a rather narrow belt of country, (say one thousand miles long by two hundred broad,) embraced between the 31st and 34th parallels of north latitude, and extending from the Pecos river in Texas to the Sierra Nevada and the contiguous desert in California. Be it understood, however, that when I speak of a narrow belt of country along a certain parallel, I do not intend to say that the habitat of the species does not extend beyond this belt into Mexico; but that the river Gila being our southern boundary through the greater part of the region referred to, the portion of our own territory inhabited by this bird is confined to such a belt as I have indicated.
“First, then, with respect to its western limit. This species was discovered by Dr. Gambel, ‘on the eastern side of the Californian range of mountains, in 1841.’ He did not meet with it on the western side; nor has it, as far as made known, been found there since that time by others. During the last summer, search was made for it by several gentlemen who were interested in the subject, as well as by myself, in different localities from north to south along the Pacific slope, but in every instance without success. Hence, the inference must be that this Partridge has never crossed to the west of the Sierra, where, as we well know, it is abundantly replaced by the closely allied species, the ‘California Partridge.’ Following down the Sierra Nevada to its junction with the coast-range, you come upon a desert of sand of vast extent; and as the snowy peaks of the Sierra had stopped the march of this species above, so did the burning sands of the desert stop its progress below, and effectually shut it out from the Pacific plain. It is true I found it at Alamo macho (cottonwood grove), which is 44 miles west of the Colorado river. Thus far it had penetrated into the dreary waste, and had managed to find shelter and subsistence where there is little to support animal life. But from this oasis to Valle-cita (little valley), it is seventy miles. In this interval, a vast ocean of sand presents a formidable barrier, as is but too plainly indicated by the bleached bones of horses and mules scattered along the route—and this barrier effectually separates the two congenerous species of partridge: the range of Gambel’s Partridge being confined to the east of this desert, while the range of the California Partridge is confined to the west of it—although on both sides they approach to the very edge, as I ascertained from personal observation.
“In the second place, with respect to its eastern limit—I have to repeat that I did not meet with this species in Texas, either in going or returning, anywhere east of the Pecos river; nor was it found by either of three other parties who explored those regions, both previously and subsequently, until after they had passed to the west of that river. Here, again, a sandy desert, between the Pecos and Devil’s river, is the barrier beyond which the species under consideration has not extended its range to the eastward; and, as it is replaced beyond the Sierra and the desert in the west by the California Partridge, so is it replaced beyond the Pecos in the east by the Massena Partridge.
“With regard to the northern and southern limits of this species, less is known. I found it in 1850, on the Limpia creek, in N. Lat. 31°—thence to the Rio Grande, and up that river to Don Ana, Lat. 33°. But I found it nowhere beyond that point, either near the river or among the hills as far back as the foot of the Sierra de los Mimbres, and I passed up and down between El Paso and Santa Fe at different seasons of the year; yet through all this country I met with the Blue Partridge (C. squamata). The species in question, however, is known to be abundant in the country around the sources of the Gila river. It has also been found along that river, from the Pimo villages to its mouth; and there is no doubt it inhabits the entire valley of the Gila. It was common along the Colorado river, as far up as Camp Yuma (mouth of Gila), and it has been met with in that valley as high up as Yampai creek, N. Lat. 34°, but I have no information of its having been found north of that parallel.
“The habits of this species are, in most respects, similar to those of the California Partridge; but it has always appeared to me less vigilant and wild. I was not so fortunate, however, as to discover its nest; nor did I gather from others any information as to its eggs—their colour or their markings. I frequently heard the call or song of the male bird during the period of nesting, which, from some cause or other not apparent to me, was later than that of its congener. As early as June 4th, I found covies of the young of the California Partridge large enough to fly—say one-fourth grown; whilst all the birds of this species (and I saw many,) as late as June 16th, were still without their young. But the voice of the male, as I was about to remark, is, at this season, strikingly rich and full. A very good idea may be formed of his cry by slowly pronouncing, in a low tone, the syllables ‘kaa-wale,’ ‘kaa-wale.’ These notes, when uttered close at hand, are by no means loud; yet it is perfectly astonishing to what a distance they may be heard when the day is calm and still. There was to me something extremely plaintive in this simple love-song, which I heard for the first time during a day of burning heat passed upon the desert. I had reached the well at Alamo mucho before noon, and had halted to rest my jaded mules after their toilsome march. Here is, in truth, a desert!—figure to yourself, if you can, a portion of this fair earth, where, for some hundreds of miles, the whole crust seems to have been reduced to ashes by the action of internal fires; behold a vast plain of desolation, surrounded, and, at intervals, intersected by abrupt mountain ranges, which are little better than gigantic heaps of scoria; imagine this scenery to be actually glowing under the direct rays of a midsummer sun, and you may have some idea of the prospect that meets the eye of the traveller who looks out upon the desert from the well of the Alamo. You may perceive in his rear a few stunted cottonwood-trees scattered along the edge of a channel, in which, apparently, water once was, but now is not; whilst around him, here and there, is a light-leafed mesquite that stretches forth its slender arms, and appears to invite him to a shade which is but a mockery. Here it was that I first heard the plaintive voice of this bird as he strove to cheer his mate whilst occupied in the tedious task of incubation.
“I had passed the hours of noon stretched upon the sand near the well: the thermometer, in the best shade to be obtained, indicating a temperature of 140° to 150°, (Fahrenheit); and as the sun began to decline towards the horizon, the first wakeful sound of animal life that greeted my ear was the soft ‘kaa-wale,’ ‘kaa-wale,’ of this beautiful bird. I turned towards a cluster of mesquite, at the distance of some two hundred yards from which the call seemed to come, but could discern no object in motion. This song was continued, at short intervals, for about an hour; when, at last, one of the birds came forth upon the sand, and was soon followed by its mate. They ran lightly over the sand, and glided into the gully, where they began to search for their evening meal. I followed with my gun and secured them both—they were a male and female, the skins of which I have preserved. This was June 8th.
“Later in the season, when a covey is dispersed, the cry for assembling is ‘qua-el,’ ‘qua-el.’ The voice at all seasons bears much resemblance to that of the California Partridge—having, in its intonation, no similarity to the whistle of the Virginia or common partridge.
“The crops of those killed at the Alamo, and thence to the Colorado, were filled with the leaves of the mesquite, which seemed to be their principal food, though in some were found remains of coleopterous insects. In some of those killed near the river I found the wild gooseberry.
“The dimensions of this species, given by Gould in his ‘Odontophorinæ,’ are, (? skin) length 9¾ inches; wing, 4½; tail, 4. By Dr. Gambel, (Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci., Philada., I. p. 260,) length, over 10 inches; wing, 4½; tail, 4½.
“Those I obtained in California were as follows, (measured immediately when killed):