Page:Condor10(3).djvu/26

124 TttE CONDOR Vol,. X the other to Taylor told him to take in slack while I pulled inward, until the nest began to tilt and we 'dared not draw it closer. Being compelled to hold on with one hand I was at some disadvantage but finally managed to reach the branch cov- ering the nest, and carefully breaking it away saw for the first time how it really looked. A green bunch of delicate mosses clinging gracefully to the inner side of a small cluster of branches where in its cavity of silky fibers and downy feathers, lay like pearls five faintly spotted eggs almost as frail as bubbles, which I covered with g soft piece of cotton that made it safe to pull the limb towards me another foot, giv- ing me an opportunity to use both hands. When the big limb flew back into place and I held the treasure intact, a mingled feeling of nervous joy and relief went out in a big sigh, and I looked back to the time when I tried to kill one of those King- lets and understood why kind providence spoiled my aim. The nest is a compact ball of mosses and lichens with a round deep cavity 1 M inches deep by lX in diameter; the lining consists of a few cow hairs, fine bark fibers and feathers woven in such a manner about the edge that there appears to be hardly any cavity at all. The eggs are white with a ring of faint brown spots on the large ends and here and there scattered over the surface. San Anselmo, Cal. NOTES FROM SANTA CRUZ ISLAND By C. B. LINTON T 11:30 p.m., November 19, 1907, my father (H. Linton), Mr. George Willett, and myself left San Pedro harbor in a dilapidated fishing smack and in com- pany with a crawfisherman, one "Cold-foot" Jorgensen. We arrived off the south end of Santa Cruz Island at 10:30 the following day during a stiff nor'wester. For various reasons we were unable to make camp until the 22nd. It may not be amiss to state here that twice during the blow we were nearly wrecked: once while at anchor in Potatoe Harbor, a broken anchor allowing the boat to drift within the breaker line and nearly onto the rocks. In this instance the timely arrival of Wil- lett and H. Linton in a small boat, saved the day, and incidentally the fishing smack. At another time (the engine having broken down) we were blown nearly onto the rocks of Ana Capa Island; but with father at the wheel and Willett and I on the "sheet" we managed to hold her off. I mention the foregoing, and the many sleepless nights spent on the rocky shores, "running" the surf several times each day (with attendant duckings), etc., merely as a warning to those who seem inclined to believe a field naturalist's life "strewn with roses". (It's generally strewn with cacti!) For instance, here is a fair sample day: November 20, a.m. rowed seven miles up coast; coming back were obliged to put ashore in rocky cove, thru heavy breakers, to keep from swamping during high wind; secured 12 speci- mens here; reached camp at 1:30 p.m.; made up specimens, 6 p.m.: broke camp, packed 100 green specimens, loaded tent and camp outfit in skiff, rowed four miles along dangerous coast after dark; 8:30 p.m. ran breakers and made camp on beach; 3:30 a.m. broke camp, ran breakers, rowed fourteen miles to Northwest Harbor, ran breakers, made camp, went after specimens; 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. made skins. "It's a strenuous life"- Santa Cruz Island is very mountainous, with wide valleys intervening. There