There is a marked gregariousness among the song birds of Arizona or else the present abundance of all species gives one that impression, for the numbers are almost countless, though human depredators are fast depopulating the songsters for the sake of their own pleasure or bird plumage for profit. While women anathematize men for their inordinate desire to kill something, they take an equivocal stand as critics, yet wearing a hat adorned with one or more dead bodies of birds. It is truly the old question of mote and beam re-enacted.

I do not remember of meeting with but one bird which I have been entirely unable to classify or even learn its common name if it has one. It darts in and out of a thorn bush after the manner of a thresher or cat bird, and about equals them in size; is of a dull canary yellow in color save for a rich red cap slightly tufted and worn jauntily on top of his head. I have never heard any note from him save a startled chip, and have been unable to learn anything about him from the various bird histories.

Dr. Abbott has remarked on the lack of vocal powers among the birds of Arizona, and says:

“I listened hour after hour to these cheerful birds, fancying there was melody in their attempts at song, and wondering why, when their lines had been cast in such forbidding places, the gift of sweet song had not been vouchsafed them. Does the extremely dry atmosphere have to do with it? Not a sound that I heard had that fulness of tone common to the allied utterances at home. At the limit of my longest stroll I heard a mountain mocking bird, as it is misnamed in the books, and his was a disappointed song. It was the twanging of a harp of a single string, and that a loose one.”

This absence of note richness is a feature that I have not observed, and never have I heard a more musical chorus from bird throats as one after another of the many sorts and conditions awoke at sunrise. Many a time have I listened while camping on a lone mountaintop, where our only canopy was the pine-fretted blue heavens, and heard the rich burst of song in which not a note lacked flavor; mocking birds, thrushes, orioles, wrens, finches, vireos, grosbeaks, robins (and their distinguishable note is likely to make one homesick) thrashers, blue birds, tanagers, etc., all filling in the score, as each was awakened and filled in the line of song, to say nothing of whip-poor-wills, owls and other night singers who have had “their day.” I feel sure if Dr. Abbott had given a little more time to the study of bird song in this territory he would have had no cause to complain of or discredit the vocal powers of these western songsters.

AFRICAN LION.
(Felis leo).

THE AFRICAN LION.
(Felis leo.)

The African Lion, familiar to the general public as the sulky tenant of a barred cage, ranges with freer strides throughout the length and breadth of Africa, and even extends through Persia into the northwestern part of India. Fossil remains show that at one time Felis leo inhabited the southern part of Europe as well, but the king of beasts was evidently considered good sport by primitive man, and he became extinct in Europe except where, in the Roman amphitheatres, and in many a meaner cage since, he has roared for the edification of the populace.

The literature of all nations is full of allusions to the Lion; to his bravery, his grandeur and his strength. The old Assyrian kings carved pictures of themselves in bas relief hurling javelins into crouching Lions, and many a sportsman is to-day beating the thorn-thickets and trailing over the sandy plains of Africa with the same unreasoning enthusiasm, yet hoping, perhaps, in a vague way to hand down his name along with the Assyrian kings by writing a book. It is the Lion’s misfortune as well as his glory that he is king of beasts.