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 110 THE CONDOR VoL XVIII diving through the green rollers near shore the black bodies of the Scoters, paddling feet and all, showed' as plainly as beetles in yellow amber. What with the flocks of Scoters and the innumerable, ever-shifting throng of waders, interesting moving pictures were almost always to be seen on the beach. One afternoon when there'were a large number of waders, perhaps a hundred and fifty Sanderlings together with Willets, Surf-birds and Gulls on the shore, in the sun path a flock of Surf Scoters were rocking over the quiet green rollers, while in the lower white surf lines, men with long rakes were clamming. A steam launch with tightly rolled sails went hurrying by, and down the sunlit cliffs at the foot of the bay two schooners with square- topped sails lay at anchor. At sunset another time, as I walked home up the beach breathing in the strong ocean air, the only birds in sight were swirling flocks of belated Sand- pipers ever resolving ahead of me. Long straight lines of deep voiced surf were breaking well outside at the low ebb of a full moon tide, the great rollers ridging up behind. And over the gray sea a deep glittering sun path led to a sunset sky that grew and ripened to rich purples--one of the sunsets when a red ball goes down into the Pacific. Long straight lines of deep voiced surf breaking far out at the beck of the moon, following obediently the rhythm of the heavenly bodies--long straight lines of white surf with great gray rollers coming in behind! How big and simple Nature is in all her processes! How microscopic man becomes viewed in the perspective of the orderly march of the universe! And yet while bird and beast blindly follow the laws Nature has laid down for them and live and die as they must, man alone, mercifully or unmercifully controls their environment, man alone can trace their course from pole to pole and try to read the reasons why. And although he in turn fail to solve the riddles of the Sphinx, he alone, humble student of Nature's laws, waiting in the stillness of the forest or listening in silence to the deep voice of the ocean, moved by the bigness and truth of Nature, can choose to try to keep step in the orderly march of the universe. Washington, D.C., December 4, 1915 NESTING OF THE BAND-TAILED PIGEON IN SOUTHERN ARIZONA By F. C. WILLARD WITH ONE PHOTO BY THE AUTHOR HE PAST season (1915) has been one in which I was fortunate enough to make a number of detailed observations on several of our local birds, interesting despite the fact that they pertain to common species. Among them was the Band-tailed Pigeon (Columba fasciata). During the late summer and early autumn, I was located in the Huachuca Mountains, in Huachuca Canyon, a short distance above the army post of that,name. There were a few pigeons nesting in the vicinity, and one pair near camp was watched quite closely from the time the nest was begun until the egg was laid. Nest build- ing was carried on only in the early morning hours, from sunrise till about 8 o'clock. Both birds were present, but the female-alone seemed to be engaged in the actual construction of the nest, which she went