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 May, t9ot I THE CONDOR 8t A Study of the Birds of Santialo Canyon. MOLLIE BRYAN, ORANGE, CALIFORNIA. N A NOOK in Santiago Canyon, where foothills and mountains meet, nestling among the live oak trees is a little home, the ranch of Mr. J. E. Pleas- ants, where two bird lovers dwell, and where other bird lovers delight to come. Here may be found many of the birds of both mountain and plain. In days past the Bald Eagle was a common visitant, and the California Condor was almost as plentiful as the Turkey Vulture is now. Many eagles have been killed by those who kept goats, but why the condor has departed, no one can tell. None have been seen here for twelve years or more. It has never been my good fortune to see as many birds in one spot as can be found in this grove of trees, for here food and water are kept out for them, and protection afforded from all ordin- ary means of harm. In this 'bird's par- adise' all life is spent beneath the trees. It is a luxury to lounge on couches or in hammocks an study the birds as they are enticed within the garden and grove. It is here that for more than two years the most of my study of the habits of birds has been made. At this point we are over eleven hundred feet above the sea level, and in the shadow of Santiago Peak, the highest point of the Santa Ana range. After a night of refreshing sleep in the pure mountain air, we are awakened by a concert given by the residents of the the grove. The Arkansas Kingbird, lark, sparrows, linnets, orioles, and Plain Titmice and the metallic call-note of the California Towhee may be heard. The woodpecker and the bluejay join in. An obligato solo is rendered by the Black-headed Grosbeak from high in a sycamore tree,. and the Pasa- dena Thrasher sends out his song from the top of the sumach bush. The mock- ing bird at a distance, adds his glorious song to this unrivaled chorus. One morning there was great excite- ment under the arbor over the advent of a Violet-green Swallow, who alighted on the fence and remained so long all' the household had ample opportunity to observe his beautiful colors and silky plumage. Later in the day, while lazily swinging in the hammock, glasses and note-book by my side, the domestic life of many of these birds has been studied. The linnet and Cal- ifornia Towhee are on very intimate terms with my bird friends, and make their homes beneath the roof of the arbor, where our every movement may be seen. The orioles festoon the vines of the porch with their. dainty baskets of pahn fiber. Anna's Hummingbird swings his dainty cradle beneath the arbor, the Black Phoebe piasters its mud nest to the frame of the arbor, darting above the table for a fly for his little ones. The California Thrasher, here familiarly called by its pretty Spanish name of"huita-coche"ventured, once only to build it loosely-woven home of coarse sticks within the limits of the grove. The Phainopelpa perches on a fence post and with airy crest out- lined against the sky, sings its sweetest melody. But we already know that a nest is being built in a sycamore tree close by. A daily visit to the nests about the place is made. The gentle dove, whose frail nest failed her, readily accepted a strawberry box, wired in place, as a substitute. The Kingbird, Phainopepla's Pewee's, and both the Arizona Hooded and Bullock's Orioles' nests were all ob- jects of interest. As we wander farther away the brilliant colors of the Louisiana Tanager illumine the landscape, though it is only for a time, as he passes on to the higher mountains to nest. The Pasadena Thrasher sits on the top of a small live- oak tree, pouring 'forth a sweet song and looking so awkward with its long