ADVENTURES WITH BIRDS IN ARIZONA

Adventures with Birds

The color illustrations with this article are a selected few from a forthcoming work The Birds of the Western United States by Don Bleitz, publication of which will be done by Bleitz Wildlife Foundation. This monumental book will consist of three volumes 12 x 15 inches in size. The 500 full-page color illustrations, reproduced from Mr. Bleitz' own original color photographs, will depict substantially all the species found in the western United States. Each species will be accompanied by approximately 2,000 words of manuscript. Besides the accurate scientific information, the manuscript will contain many personal experiences from his volumes of field notes and will be written in an interesting narrative style. More than fifteen years ago, Mr. Bleitz began photographing birds as an avocation. As he improved equipment and techniques, he set out to photographically illustrate the more than 500 species which occur in this area. Whenever the press of business was not too great he made trips into the field adding new species to his swelling list. On these trips he was often helped by local residents who shared his love of nature. He once remarked to his wife, Elvirita, "It seems that people with a love of nature-whether it be plants, trees, birds or insectsfind in that interest the thing that helps make good citizens of them. If the youth of today could have a chance to learn enough about nature to kindle this interest much juvenile delinquency could be avoided." Mrs. Bleitz then suggested that they form a foundation to help build the right kind of Americanism so that this idea would become perpetual. She further helped in suggesting a list of sponsors and then made the first contribution to its funds. The foundation could first be the means of publishing The Birds of the Western United States; then, as its funds were returned from the sale of the book, they would become available to purchase a large wilderness tract of land where during vacation periods, week-ends, etc., young people from all walks of life could have an opportunity to learn something of the ecology of nature. Such an area would be carefully selected to include a wide section of the various flora and fauna native to this region. Two weeks in an area such as this, with well presented, daily guided lecture walks, would plant the necessary seeds of thought and interest in the minds of the young people who attended. If, depending upon parents' financial condition, each young person was required to save up and pay a portion of his own expenses in such camps (with the foundation paying the balance) Mr. and Mrs. Bleitz feel the character of each young person attending would be benefitted greatly. These young people could easily be our future leaders. A few dollars spent in this way can do more toward building good citizenship than can ever be accomplished by police and courts. The foundation will, in time, also be able to publish a popularly priced, condensed version, single volume edition of the bird book containing perhaps 100 of the most important illustrations. Each year since its formation, Mr. and Mrs. Bleitz have contributed to the foundation from their personal incomes and up to this point it has been almost completely financed by them. As the work nears completion, however, Mr. Bleitz is confident that interested individuals and firms will undoubtedly want to make contributions-which, of course, are tax deductible. They feel sure that by the time all the photography and manuscript is ready (approximately another year or two) the funds will be available. All the expenses of photography, field trips, production of sample printing plates, etc. has been borne entirely by Mr. and Mrs. Bleitz without any expense whatever to the foundation. The foundation has also undertaken considerable research into Avian Botulism, a type of bacterial food poisoning, which has killed as many as 500,000 waterbirds in a single season along our Western flyways. Excellent progress has been made and it is hoped that controlling media against this scourge will eventually result. In connection with this phase of the work a collection of living waterfowl, many of which originally arrived with severe botulism poisoning, has been built up in cooperation with a close friend of Mr. Bleitz who has provided the ponds and the necessary constant care. Except during nesting season, interested nature groups may visit the ponds and see large numbers of full-winged waterfowl.

Arizona has been blessed with more than her share of unusual and beautiful birds. More than 400 species have been recorded from the varied terrain of this sunshiny state. Of this number, some 240 species remain to nest. Such fabulous beauties as the Coppery-tailed Trogon, the Rose-throated Becard, and others which seldom stray north of the Mexican border here enter our avifauna. Several species have been first recorded from this area as nesting within the United States in the last twenty years. I have made numerous trips to Southern Arizona to photograph and study the avian population which nests here in the spring and summer. Nesting begins very early in the low regions of the deserts around Tucson. My wife, Elvirita, and I spent two weeks at a guest ranch just west of Tucson during April a few years ago. Everywhere about our neat stone bungalow, birds were building nests. The sharp whistled whit whit of the Palmer's Thrasher (a sub-species of the Curve-billed Thrasher) came from nearly every cholla thicket. It sounded very much like the whistle of a gay, young Lothario as he watched a beautiful girl pass, and has given them the local name of "purty quick." Some of these friendly Thrashers, with bright orange eyes, had just begun to carry sticks to build up their old nests in the formidable chollas so that it was nearly impossible for any creature to reach the neatly lined cup without becoming impaled on the many toxic spines. We wished to find a suitable nest to photograph, preferably with young, since then the parents visit the nest to bring food to their ever-hungry brood, at intervals of but a few minutes. We searched everywhere, finding many nests with eggs and several with small young. Most, however,

in Arizona

were just being rebuilt and all were piled so high with sticks that it was not possible to make a satisfactory photograph. Finally, we discovered a single nest which had not been built up beyond the rim like the others. It was constructed in the manner of most other Thrashers' nests and here I made some interesting photographs of this beneficial species.

The parents were feeding two young about 6 days old in a typically situated nest in a cholla cactus about 4 feet from the ground. The ground beneath all of the surrounding vegetation had been practically plowed by these birds, with their long curved bills, in their dawn to dusk search for grubs, pupae, and other forms of insect life to feed the growing young. Neither adult seemed to encounter difficulty with the sharp spines of the nest plant, perching at will all over it without discomfort.

They soon became quite used to me and my camera. So much so, in fact, that instead of operating the camera remotely from my car, as I started out to do, I was soon standing right beside the nest and making my photographs as the parents continued to push food into the gaping mouths of their young. Several times the parent birds stood on the toe of Elvirita's shoe preparatory to flying up to the nest.

After completing a series of photographs of the Thrashers, my wife and I returned to the guest ranch. I then set my banding traps, baited with grain and slices of bread, just outside our back door.

I was awakened next morning at dawn by the angry screams of a Gila Woodpecker which had walked into my trap after the bait. I got up and removed him from the trap and put him in a paper bag which I placed in turn in a dark closet where he would not injure himself until I could get dressed and put a numbered band on his leg.

About 7:00 a.m. we arose and had breakfast. We Then banded our Gila Woodpecker which turned out to be one of a pair that had excavated a hole some 15 feet up in a saguaro in our front yard. I put the band on this male bird and took him to the front door to release him. As I walked outside with the Woodpecker in my hand he suddenly began to scream with rage while he watched his nesting cavity. Another male was standing outside the entrance while the female peered out. With a lunge, the bird I was holding jumped free and flew directly toward his rival. In a moment he had landed full upon the surprised bird and the two tumbled through the air firmly clutched together by the claws of the banded male in the back of the "traveling man." They tumbled about for a few seconds on the ground and then the intruder flew off with his assailant close behind.A few moments later the banded bird returned, entered the nest hole, and for a minute or two his calls could be heard for blocks as he apparently voiced his displeasure that his mate would so quickly allow another to approach.

Nearby in another saguaro, a Gilded Flicker was busily excavating a hole. The Flickers and Gila Woodpeckers usually excavate several holes each season, and after completing their work in the soft, sappy interior they leave it for a period so that the sap dries and the interior becomes dry and smooth. Indeed, the sap hardens so durably that these woodpecker cavities can easily be removed intact from fallen cacti from which the fleshy pulp has long since rotted away.This particular pair of Gilded Flickers finished their work and did not return to lay eggs for three weeks. Since they excavate more holes than they use, their industry provides dry, cozy nesting sites for many birds not equipped to construct their own cavities.

The diminutive Elf Owls, the Arizona Crested Flycatcher, the Mexican Screech Owl, the Ash-throated Flycatcher and many other species all depend on these two species to provide comfortable cacti homes.A hundred yards away the Cactus Wren, Arizona's State Bird and largest of his clan, was putting the finishing touches on a bulky, covered nest in another cholla. These friendly Wrens are resident in the cholla meadows and sleep in their nests during the cool winter nights. For this reason they build several, only one of which is used to raise a family. I could see, by using a tiny mirror and light arrangement which I could insert into the entrance hole, that this particular nest held five beautiful eggs heavily marked with reddish umber.Along a small sandy wash there were a few Mesquite trees. On the outer branches of one of these was another small covered nest, complete with a tiny front porch. It was constructed of thorny material and was well protected by the sharp spines of the Mesquite. As I approached, a pair of tiny grey birds with yellow heads and red shoulder epaulets climbed nervously over the branches only two feet from my face. They called excitedly-tsip, tsip, tsip, tsip. Checking the soft feather interior I found that it also contained eggs.

Some species can be successfully photographed when they have eggs, but often the birds will not readily return to the nest when the camera is in place unless the eggs are well incubated. So, except for those individuals which are quite tame, I usually wait until the young are three to five days old before trying to make photographs.

After examining these nests, I noted them for a later visit.

Gambel's Quail were calling from atop a couple of rocky places, their sharply whistled notes ringing clearly across the brilliant landscape.

A few pairs of the diminutive and impeccably marked Desert Sparrows were now seeking suitable jojoba bushes where they could build their vegetable fibre homes. I watched one pair carrying material to a crotch in the center of a small jojoba, but most individuals of this species do not lay their eggs until the middle of May.

Later that year, in early June, a friend and I went to Madera Canyon, in the Santa Ritas, where we spent two weeks studying and photographing the bird life of the area. At that time of the year the beautiful blossoms of many of the more than sixty species of cactus found in Arizona were open. The Santa Ritas rise abruptly from the plains south of Tucson to the summits of Old Baldy (9,432 feet) and Mt. Hopkins (8,072 feet). Like many of the mountain ranges of this vicinity, they are of volcanic origin and thus do not have the characteristic foothills found in ranges pushed up by folding of the earth's crust, such as on the western side of the Sierras in California.

The typical vegetation of the desert floor, consisting of Saguaros, Prickly Pear Cacti and Chollas, is gradually replaced on the ascending slopes by Ocotillo, Mesquite, Catsclaw and several other species of cacti. In the canyons a few oaks and sycamores begin and extend upward. As we ascend Madera Canyon the oaks become more dense until coniferous trees gradually form an inter-mixture.

At the mouth of Madera Canyon we searched for a nest of the Beardless Flycatcher, a tiny mite of a bird which, in this area, usually weaves a tight ball of vegetable fibre into a high clump of mistletoe. In previous years I had found several nests of this uncommon little visitor from below the border, but they had always been beyond the reach of my lightweight duraluminum stepladder. This year I had an extension which allowed me to work 25 feet above the ground. After much careful searching along the hot, dry wash I was ready to return to our cabin at Santa Rita Lodge high above us, where the weather was much cooler. At that moment the little six-year-old boy of some friends asked if I was interested in a little "nidito" in his yard. I went to check and found, of all things, our diminutive friend the Beardless Flycatcher feeding young in a nest placed in the open crotch of a tiny hackberry tree only six feet from the ground.

In a few minutes I set up the camera and strobe lights to photograph our strange little insect eater in this unheard-of nesting situation. The tiny grey adult was busily collecting small green caterpillars from the adjoining Mesquites. She crawled about among the twigs and leaves in a manner similar to the much more common Verdin, then carried this food promptly to her hun-gry babies. Each time she visited the nest I made a pho-tograph, but she paid no heed to me, the camera, nor the brilliant flash of the high speed strobe lights which provided correct exposure on the color film at 1/10,000th second and f.22 setting. Since that time I have, on three different occasions, found a nest constructed in a simi-lar location in a hackberry and of the same soft, grey vegetable fibres and all were within a short distance of this spot. Apparently a family group is beginning to nest differently here from what is characteristic for the species. That evening, just before dark, my friend and I walked down along the hillsides to the east of the road. Suddenly, I noticed a group of four small penguin-like birds which had been sitting in the dry grass right at our feet. They were Mearn's Quail. They just stood there perhaps two feet from my legs, then, while we watched, fascinated, they slowly walked right past us and over the crown of the hill. We returned to our cabin and obtained a bag of peanut hearts and assorted grains which we scattered, hoping to attract these odd little quail. Each evening for a week we put out food for the Mearn's Quail and it was always gone by the next eve-ning. One late afternoon we saw a single pair of these birds eating our food, so we set up a simulated camera and tripod, with tin can lids for reflectors in order that the birds would not be wary of the camera later. In a few days I was able to secure several fine photographs of the quail as they fed. The camera was operated from a distance even though the birds seemed very unafraid.

evening but was never successful in locating the nest. This species prefers the vicinity of ledges, rocks, or steep hillsides for nesting. One individual began his “whipping,” as some of the local people had called it, perched longitudinally in the same spot about fifteen feet up on a dead oak limb each evening at dusk. Finally I set up the ladder with the camera focused on this spot. That particular evening, however, he began to whip from across the stream. The next evening I left the ladder in place but set up the camera in a tree to photograph an Elf Owl nesting about thirty feet up in a cavity excavated by an Acorn Woodpecker. Just at dusk our Stephens' Whippoor-will began to call from the same spot as before but the camera was not in place. The tiny Elf Owl was apparently just starting to nest at this altitude and the female stayed inside the woodpecker hole all day. Just at dusk the little male, who roosted during the day in a large oak, called in a loud whirp, whirp, whirp, whirp, whirp and then flew down to capture a couple of large beetles which he carried to his mate. She waited at the cavity entrance and accepted the morsels he offered with a low, softly whistled teeeeeeooooo, teeeeeeoooooo.

By arranging the spotlight on the car, with a bit of mosquito netting to diminish brightness, I could direct enough light on the nest entrance to see the birds return without unduly disturbing them. The little male brought a number of large beetles, two huge centipedes, a scorpion and a number of other large insects which I was unable to identify with my binoculars in the dim light.

The following morning we went down the canyon to the base of the hills where, with the help of friends, we soon found a pair of nesting Cooper's Tanagers. The nest was situated on the tip of a horizontal limb, about twenty-five feet from the ground in a large tree, and contained four small young. The parent birds are very different in appearance. The male is bright, rosy red and the female a greenish yellow. They were both busy collecting large beakfuls of green caterpillars to feed their hungry offspring. The female was most unwary but the male was quite shy.

I secured a length of 2 x 4 lumber and nailed this between two large limbs so that the camera could be placed opposite the nest and about eight feet away. I arranged the flash and then set up my radio-operated remote control. Since the female returned to feed very Readily, even when I was beside the camera, I soon had several excellent shots of her. The ideal pose, of course, would be to show them both together, along with the nest and four young. To achieve this I stayed in the tree, actually almost touching the female to keep her from feeding the young and then leaving to gather more insects, until the male arrived carrying food. I then climbed down the tree very rapidly and the male returned to the nest at the same time as the female, enabling me to secure several photographs of both of them at the nest together.

Later, I found a nest only a hundred feet away in a small hackberry tree. It was situated on a small horizontal limb and contained three pale blue eggs, heavily marked with dark sepias and umbers. I recognized it at once as that of the Arizona Cardinal, a beautiful, native sub-species closely related to the Common Redbird or Cardinal of the Eastern U. S. The eastern bird has been locally introduced in California, where there are no native Cardinals. The birds were shy, so after making a single exposure of the female, I left them to incubate their eggs.

Eight days later I returned to find the young about three days old. The brilliantly colored, crested male was by far the most attentive of the pair at this time and returned each ten to fifteen minutes with a throat full of insects and berries to feed to the ever hungry youngsters. The female returned far less frequently. Each time the male returned he arrived in an adjoining Mesquite tree, with a brilliant flash of scarlet, and promptly uttered his familiar, sharply whistled teeeeeeooooo. Then, in a series of short flights he arrived above the nest, and after carefully examining the tiny babies to see that all was in order, he proceeded to regurgitate a seemingly endless supply of berries and insects which the young eagerly swallowed.

A few days later we followed the road leading north from Tucson to the Silver Bell Guest Ranch, in search of the Arizona Pyrrhuloxia-a close relative of the Cardinal-which is confined to the warmer, more arid sections of Arizona and Texas. It was late in the season to find this bird nesting but considerable variation in all species can be found. This is usually caused by a nesting failure which results in a late second brood. Since so many factors may cause the loss of nest or eggs, nature provides a second and in some cases a third or fourth set of eggs to be sure at least one, and in many species two or more broods, are raised each year in spite of the many natural enemies birds possess.

We were fortunate in finding just such a late nest on the ranch. It was situated in a clump of hanging mistletoe, about eight feet from the ground, in a Mesquite tree, and contained two young just ready to fly. Second broods usually have fewer young than first broods, which in this species would ordinarily consist of three or four young in a first nesting. We set up the stepladder opposite the nest and arranged the strobe reflectors so that, either after the sun went down, or before it rose in the morning, I could make my photographs at very high speed. This absence of direct sunlight is necessary because the very short exposures are made possible by an extremely brilliant flash of light, lasting about 1/10,000 of a second. Since the fastest speed of all conventional shutters, however, is much slower than this it is important that the available light, other than the flash, be insufficient to record on the film before and after the flash takes place. If made in full sunlight, a ghost or double image shows.

The Pyrrhuloxias, meanwhile, were becoming used to the camera and ladder. At dawn the next morning, I sat beneath an adjoining Mesquite and operated my camera remotely by pushing a button. The beautiful grey and rose colored male returned to feed the young quite often but his plain brownish grey lady was very shy and sat out of camera range calling to the young. The female finally returned and fed them just as the male finished and flew (see photograph). After I made three exposures with both male and female at the nest together, one of the young succeeded in climbing up on the rim and a moment later was joined by her brother. The young of this species show a difference in coloration even at this tender age-the male having salmon colored primary feather sheaths. The female again called and the two young flew and climbed to a thick part of the mesquite where they were fed by their mother for their prowess in outwitting the photographer.

The sun was now up and already the desert was very hot, so we left for the cool of the mountain canyons. In Madera Canyon we had placed several small jars filledwith sugar and water beside some red flowering wild honeysuckle that grew beneath the oaks. Three species of hummingbirds had found our feeders and visited them regularly. The Blue-throat, which is the largest of our Hummingbirds, the Rivoli's-nearly as large as the Blue-throat-and the smaller, brilliantly colored Broad-bill. I had previously found nests of all three of these species but since the brightly colored males do not assist in nesting at all, they can best be attracted by sugar water feeders.

I had been shown a nest of a Blue-throated Hummer, built on a light cord in a shed, and had found another in Madera Canyon which had been used and added to for several years until it was fully six inches high. It was attached to some iron bolts below a small footbridge and in early June contained two tiny white eggs. The nest was very neatly constructed of greyish plant down and spider web.

The Rivoli's Hummer, which I observed, had built her nest on a small limb in a strawberry arbutus tree which grew by the trailside in Madera Čanyon, near a place called Bog Springs. It also held two, pure white eggs and the nest was much decorated with large flakes of green and gold lichens. The Broad-billed Hummer had built her beautiful, compact nest in a small oak located in the front yard of a cottage in Madera Canyon. It was about eight feet from the ground and the female was feeding young birds on June 10. The nest was very distinctive in that it was made of fine vegetable fibers and plant down and lined with pure white plant down. This nest was decorated with some tiny leaves and a few shreds of bark but was without the lichens so often used by other species of Hummingbirds.

The male Hummers became used to feeding at the vials, which I had wired to a stick just below the red blossoms of the honeysuckle. For several days a male Blue-throat had perched about 25 feet above in an oak and drove most other visitors away, regarding the feeders as his own exclusive property. On this day I set up my camera and the high speed strobe light. I selected a group of blossoms and focused on these, then bent down a limb of an adjoining cedar and tied it to provide a background. With everything in readiness I took a medicine dropper and nearly filled the hollow, tubelike flowers of the honeysuckle with sugar water. I then covered the tops of the feeders with leaves. In a few minutes the male Blue-throat (who owned the feeders) came down and searched everywhere for them. After a short search he flew to my flowers and drank every bit of the sugar water. I made a photograph and when he returned to his perch, refilled the flowers and reset the camera. Fifteen minutes later a male Broad-bill came and drank, so I made his photograph. After exposing twelve or more Ektachromes, I had decided to wait for a really spectacular shot. Suddenly a new male Blue-throat arrived and started to feed on the blossoms. Just behind him, waiting, was the male Broad-bill. Seeing this invasion of his territory the original owner, a male Blue-throat which was perched nearby, flew down and chased the intruders away but not before the lightning-like flash of the powerful strobe lights had recorded the memorable scene. Shortly afterwards I secured a similar photograph of two male Rivoli's, one of which had taken possession of the feeders placed on the front porch of another cottage in Madera Canyon.

DESCRIPTION OF BIRDS PORTRAYED IN COLOR

The friendly little rufous-backed Arizona Junco is found throughout the mountainous areas of Southern Arizona. They can be distinguished readily from other Juncos by their bright orange eyes. During the nesting season their food is largely insectivorous but at other seasons they can be readily attracted to bread crumbs, seeds, peanut hearts or other wild-bird mixes.

The Cactus Wren, Arizona's State Bird, ranges over much of the arid Southwest. The nest of this species, largest of our wrens, is a bulky structure of twigs and grasses thickly lined with soft fibers and feathers. Usually it is placed in a crotch of a cholla cactus where it is protected by the spines. Some of these nests are kept in repair as sleeping quarters for the cool winter nights.

The Arizona Pyrrhuloxia, a close relative of the Cardinal, is found over the lower plains and warmer valleys of Southern Arizona, Southern New Mexico and Central Western Texas. In the Tucson area they can often be attracted to feeders and readily accept various seeds, peanut hearts and berries. The male is a strikingly beautiful individual.

The Blue-throated Hummingbird is the largest of his clan to enter the United States. He can easily be distinguished from the very slightly smaller Rivoli's by the white tips on the outer tail feathers. The wing beat of this friendly and inquisitive species is much slower than that of the smaller, brilliantly iridescent Broad-billed Hummingbird. Both of these species are easily attracted to sugar water feeders.

The big, beautifully brilliant male Rivoli's Hummers are indeed like feathered jewels. When one hovers directly in the light, the entire forehead appears as an iridescent tourmaline, while the throat is a perfect emerald. Of the two males illustrated, one has taken possession of a feeder and is about to drive a new arrival from the scene.

The Gila Woodpecker is the carpenter of the Saguaros. Nesting pairs usually excavate extra holes each season which provide homes for Elf Owls, Arizona Crested Flycatchers, Ash-throated Flycatchers and other cavity dwelling species who do not possess the marvelous digging ability of the strong Gila. This male is visiting a dead cholla branch in which some small pieces of suet had been placed.

The Inca Doves, along with the shorter tailed Mexican Ground Doves, are the smallest of their clan to be found in the U.S. Originally a Mexican and Central American species, these friendly little dooryard birds, once extremely rare in Arizona, have adapted themselves very well to city life in the southern part of the state.

Gambel's Quail are seen along the highways in many areas of Southwestern Arizona and Southeastern California. They thrive best among the dry, low cholla meadows. The bright rufous crown of the male, and their familiar ringing whistled call-wheweasily identify this species from the now much less common Scaled Quail or Cottontop. The little penguin-like Mearn's Quail is much differently shaped.

Hepatic Tanagers are usually found in the upper canyons and coniferous belts of Arizona's mountain ranges, also in parts of similar areas in New Mexico and Texas. They somewhat resemble the Cooper's Tanagers but the male Hepatic can easily be distinguished by the more patterned head, with grayish cheeks and definitely black upper mandible. They also are easily attracted to vials filled with sugar water if properly placed. Females of the two species are dull yellow and the two could easily be confused.

DESCRIPTION OF BIRDS PORTRAYED IN COLOR

The brilliantly colored male Arizona Cardinal is recognized by many for he closely resembles his cousin, "the Red Bird" familiar to many former Easterners. Cardinals feed largely on berries and seeds. This pair preferred the fruit of an adjoining elderberry which, along with insects and mistletoe berries, were brought in large quantities to their young. The familiar teeeeoooo can be easily whistled and often it will bring an inquisitive Cardinal to the observer. Continued...

The Cooper's Tanager is similar to the Hepatic but the male has more brightly colored wings with more pink or yellow in the cheeks, and in breeding season, an ochre brown bill. The Cooper's prefer the lower valleys, along streams, while the Hepatics are usually found higher in the canyons and forested areas. This attentive pair is raising a family of four on a diet of caterpillars and other insects.

Few small birds are as beautiful as the male Lazuli Bunting. Its bright blue head and back, along with the buffy cinnamon colored breast band, easily identify this species. The larger Western Bluebird is a much darker, more purplish blue than the Bunting and the whole breast is chestnut. This contrast of the broad white wing bar of the Bunting clearly sets it apart also. The female is a drab little finch and could easily be confused with others. The Buntings, like other finches, are seed eaters and visit feeders regularly.

This fabulous beauty, the Coppery-tailed Trogon, which enters our avifauna only along the southern border of Arizona, is unlike any other bird found in the United States. The glowing emerald of the head and back of the male, the bright orange-red eye rings, the crimson breast and long burnished copper colored tail feathers, set off by the yellow parrot-like bill, make it a never to be forgotten sight. In flight the soft dove grey of the wings makes all this blend into a fantasy of splendor. The female is less brilliant than the male yet exquisite in her own right.

These tiny residents, Arizona Verdins, of the mesquite plains are practical architects. Their wonderfully constructed, covered, and well insulated nests are used to protect parents and young from the heat of the day as well as the cold of the nights. Verdins sleep in these thorn covered, feather lined cocoons during the winter nights. On cold days in mid-winter, one can often see one come out and scold with a sharp tsp, tsp, tsp when disturbed in its rest. Almost invariably a small front porch is constructed to protect the nest entrance.

Early in the morning, and again just before dusk the mellow flute-like spring song of the Hermit Thrush comes from a wooded thicket. The singer, a small soft brown bird with a contrastingly spotted white breast, runs a few steps to a spot beside some tiny pool, suddenly stops and flutters its wings. The reddish brown tail quickly differentiates it from the Russet-backed or Willow Thrush. In winter the lovely song is absent as these little birds forage for insects in residential gardens and lawns.

The tiny Beardless Flycatcher is a little known Mexican and Central American species which strays into the United States only in Southern Arizona and the valley of the Rio Grande in Texas. The little female, here depicted, has built a nest quite unlike the usual structure. It is almost always situated high in a hanging mistletoe clump where it is well hidden from view. This tiny species can be differentiated from the Verdin, with which it could be confused, by the absence of yellow on the head, by the wing bars, and by the yellow, slightly decurved bill. Verdins and other small birds such as Gnatcatchers have black bills.

No other bird species, found within their U. S. range, closely resembles the lovely Red-faced Warbler. They are usually very local within their restricted range-mountainous sections of Southern Arizona and New Mexico, and they are almost exclusively insectivorous in their food habits. The pair photographed preferred a diet of smooth-skinned green caterpillars carefully gathered from a streamside willow thicket.

In 1953, when I called to see a friend in Madera Canyon, she showed me the nest of a pair of Painted Redstarts in the stream bed near her front yard. The nest, built on the ground under a small Nettle plant, held four young ready to fly. While I was setting up the camera, the female uttered a single call note and the whole group flew out together. At the time I was looking in the ground glass with a dark cloth over my head. When I looked up they had all disappeared except for one young which had alighted in the middle of a small pool in the stream and was now having his first swimming lesson. I fished him out, dried him off, and put him back in the nest. He was tired from his ordeal and stayed until I secured several shots, one showing the lovely breast of the male while his lady waits her turn to feed the hungry baby.

Later, very near that location, we found the beautiful Hepatic Tanagers nesting high in a grape-covered oak. The neat soft vegetable fibre nest held four beautiful turquoise eggs on June 9. The Hepatic Tanagers are very similar to the Cooper's Tanagers. The easiest way to differentiate them is by call notes and by the more patterned head of the Hepatic, with grayish cheeks and definitely black upper mandible. Cooper's have pinker or yellower cheeks and, in breeding season, an ochre brown bill. The Cooper's is more of a stream-side bird, while the Hepatics are usually found at higher elevations.

We spent a most profitable two weeks during which we found and photographed, successfully, the Hermit Thrush, the White-winged Dove, the Hooded Oriole, the Arizona Jay, the Solitary Vireo, the Cooper's Hawk, the Zone-tailed Hawk and many others, and last but certainly a highlight of the trip, we obtained beautiful nesting photographs of the nearly legendary Copperytailed Trogon.

On several previous trips I had combed every canyon of the Santa Ritas and the Huachucas. While on occasion I had heard the birds or seen a single individual pass by, I had never had an opportunity to closely observe this splendid creature. Shortly before it was necessary to return to Los Angeles, my companion and I decided to concentrate our last two days at least on the Trogons. We contacted several very helpful local residents who offered suggestions but no one we met had actually seen a Trogon for several nesting seasons. We were therefore strictly on our own.

Early the next morning we were on our way towards Patagonia and on into the Huachucas. As we drove across a high, arid plain we heard an unfamiliar bird voice. We stopped and saw a deep purplish blue bird which I thought must be a Varied Bunting. We watched with binoculars and found a pair in the Mesquite. I looked for the red spot on the back of its head but there was none -the bird was not a Blue Grosbeak and the only other it could fit was an Indigo Bunting which should not occur here. After a few minutes the birds flew across a small wash and disappeared in heavy Mesquite growth.

We continued on until the end of the road, as such, and then followed a trail which rose steeply from the stream bed, crossed a rocky outcropping, and up through oaks, sycamores and a few cottonwoods until we came out into a little clearing where many years before a small building had been constructed for a long abandoned mine. We stopped and got out to look around. From inside the building came the twinkling, descending song of a Canyon Wren, which we later found nesting in the

structure. A moment later a loud hoarse ork, ork, ork, ork rang out from the small stream bed-our Trogon. I looked around and saw a dead cottonwood stub containing three nesting cavities about the size of those produced by a Flicker. I told my companion to sit quietly and watch the cottonwood stub, saying, "Here is the nest of our Trogon." "Which cavity?" my friend asked. "The lower one," I answered. I walked slowly along beneath the huge leafy sycamores. Again the call rang out sounding more like oink, oink, oink, oink this time, and very close at hand. Suddenly there was a flash of emerald and scarlet and our gorgeous quarry alighted on a tiny twig in the sycamore above me about thirty feet away. He turned his head, examining me thoroughly, and I became acutely aware of the brilliant orange-red eye ring, the yellow parrot-like bill and the brilliant vermilion breast. He sat with the long, slightly incurved tail feathers hanging straight down. As he turned his head from side to side the sun caught and reflected in the brilliant iridescent green head and accented the soft dove grey of his wings. After about thirty seconds he flew off toward the small oak which was on my side of the cottonwood stub. A moment later I saw the female. She had a lighter, more rosy breast and brown replaced most of the iridescent green of the male. She flew past me and toward the same spot. I sat down and waited while watching with the binoculars. In a short while the male appeared again, going back to the area where I had first seen him. I followed him for half an hour while he caught several large katydids and a beetle, each of which he beat against a heavy branch to kill it before he swallowed it. At the end of thirty minutes he again flew in the direction of the stub where I had first felt they must be nesting.

Working slowly back until I joined my companion I asked, "Did they come to the nest cavity?" "No," he said, "a Flicker came to that lower cavity but the Trogon went into the one above; the female is inside now." We watched for 45 minutes and then the female flew out. As soon as she disappeared we went to the car, got the camera with the 12" lens, the flash reflectors, and then set up the ladder against a dead oak tree about twelve feet from the nesting cavity. I nailed a piece of 2 x 4 lumber across a fork of the dead tree to provide a support for the camera in the correct position. Quickly we set up the flash equipment and the remote control. Lastly I cut some small branches from the strawberry arbutus tree, which covered most of the dead oak, and tied them over the camera to camouflage it and at the same time shade it to keep the film cool, for the sun was now broil-ing hot. I had hardly climbed down the ladder when the female arrived. She perched about thirty feet from the camera for a few minutes and then flew directly to the nest cavity. I made a shot and she stayed outside for about thirty seconds and then disappeared inside. In about ten minutes she peered out a moment and then flew. In five minutes she was back again and I made another shot. I changed film and bulbs and then moved to the inside of the cabin where it was cooler. There was an open window directly in line with the nest and about eighty feet away from which I could observe and write notes.

Thirty minutes later, at 3:00 p.m., the gorgeous male arrived and perched on a twig of the branches I had placed above the camera. He sat there for a few moments and then flew to the cavity. I made an exposure and then he disappeared inside. I visited the camera and changed film and bulbs while the male remained inside incubating. The stub was now in full sun and the air temperature was about 100° so the inside must have been 120°. Several times he came to the entrance panting like a dog. It was a mystery to me how he could enter such a place and incubate his eggs as he was apparently doing without breaking off his beautiful long tail feath-ers. He stayed there until 4:50 p.m. and then flew out in a burst of glorious color with his long tail feathers streaming behind.

When he next returned, at 5:10 p.m., the female was also ready to enter the cavity so he flew to the upper one to hold onto something and I made a shot of the two before she disappeared within (see photograph).

The sky, which had been clear, now began to cloud over, and in a few minutes we were in the midst of the most terrific lightning storm I have ever witnessed. All about us lightning flashed with a noise of an explosion, hitting trees and splitting them wide open to steam from the heat in the torrential downpour. I had covered the camera with a plastic raincoat, but now it was raining so hard I feared that in spite of this cover, my film and camera would be drenched.

I made another photograph of the male peering out, very bewildered by the sudden rain and lightning, and then my friend and I took down the equipment. It continued to rain and we collected about ten gallons of rain water in the plastic car cover and put it in our supply tank in the station wagon.

When the rain finally let up we heard the notes of a cougar in the hills above us and the stars came out brightly in a fresh, new, cool world.

The next morning we made some more shots of the Trogons and then went to examine a Scott's Oriole's nest in a yucca where I had seen the birds disappear carrying cotton for the soft nest lining. The nest was neatly woven of yucca fibres and attached to the lower leaves of a tall blossoming yucca. It was finished and lined but as yet contained no eggs. We returned to Madera Canyon, arriving just before dark. Before going to our cabin, however, we stopped to examine the nest and four eggs of a Lucy's Warbler, a tiny, immaculate grey mite which had built its nest in a small cavity in the top of a fence post.

In late May, 1954, my father and I drove to the Tucson area again. Near Yuma we found a group of White-faced Glossy Ibis feeding with a group of Blacknecked Stilts, some of which were beginning to nest by a small roadside pond. We made a few photographs here and then proceeded further east to the Tucson area.

This year I had planned on photographing again the tiny Elf Owl, for I was dissatisfied with my former results on this species, and also to do the White-winged Dove over again, as well as to photograph a number of species which I had been unable to complete previously.

Through the kind help of some friends, we were able to find several Elf Owl nests which were easily reached with the tall stepladder. On two evenings I made a group of photographs of the Elf Owl, but I wanted to show the beautiful saguaro blossoms, if possible, in the Elf Owl plate. While exploring a little area near Tucson, I found a nest hole which appeared to be in use directly beside a blossoming branch of a saguaro.

I made a squeaking noise which usually causes nesting birds to look out of their cavities, but since these tiny owls are usually very inactive during daylight, nothing appeared. My friends, however, went out and watched for me early one evening, and phoned to say that it was occupied by Elf Owls.

Late one afternoon we drove to the spot and there was our little owl peering out of her hole in full sunlight. I set up the ladder and camera and secured a shot of her looking out. As nightfall approached, however, I saw that my friend had been right, for the blossoms all neatly folded up their waxy white petals and closed for the night as she had predicted. I was disappointed, but continued to make photographs while the male Elf Owl brought food to his mate, who, it later developed, was incubating three almost round white eggs very nearly the size of those of the Mourning Dove, even though this owl is very much smaller than the dove. Several times he returned carrying large insects, vinegarroons, large beetles, grasshoppers, centipedes, etc. Each time he was ready to return to the nest cavity he worked his way in a series of short flights to a small Mesquite tree right beside my ladder and then from a favorite perching limb, flew directly to the nest. Since he always uttered a characteristic call from this perch before his flight, the little female peered outside until he would alight in the cavity entrance. I made several shots of his flying approach by pushing my release button just as he left the Mesquite. I had felt sure that some of the shots would be good but my experience with trying to push a button at the right time has been very poor, so I set up a device which focusses the filament of a light bulb on a mirror and this in turn is directed onto a sensitive photocell. This was set up in such a way that when the little Owl flew from the perch to the nest he would interrupt this light beam and automatically trip the shutter. The delay from the time the light beam is interrupted until the photograph is made is only 1/500 second and the flash duration is but 1/10,000 second, which stops almost any action. When the male arrived on his perch I pushed a switch which turned on the small light beam. After each shot I turned it off while resetting the shutter and changing film atop the ladder.

About 10:30 p.m. I noticed an aromatic yet pungent odor which seemed to fill the air. As I returned to the camera I found that the blossoms of the saguaro were beginning to open and many insects were hovering above each nectar-filled waxy beauty. Now I could photograph these diminutive Owls along with the beautiful blossom of the saguaro. I made several exposures and then decided on an experiment. A short distanceaway, in another saguaro, I had found a nest containing well-feathered young Elf Owls which had very bluegrey plumage in contrast to the brown of the adults. I decided to borrow one of these friendly little young to show the juvenile plumage. I carried him up the ladder and perched him atop an unopened bud of the saguaro. Then at the remote tripper I awaited developments. The female climbed to the entrance of the hole and looked him over carefully before flying. The male, who usually flew directly into the nest hole, instead landed outside and watched this newcomer who looked hopefully to the little male Owl for food, and the female flew around over the whole scene softly whistling teeeooo-teeeooo. After a few minutes the young flew down to the branches of the little Mesquite and out of the range of the dimmed spotlight. With a flashlight I found him and returned him to his nest.

Ibis at Sunset

I was awakened next morning by the calls of a male Gila Woodpecker which was probing the saguaro blossoms for nectar. On another a tiny Lucy's Warbler searched for insects. As the sun started upward we were joined by our friends, and after searching fruitlessly for the nest of an Arizona Woodpecker, that ceaseless carpenter of the live oak belt, we proceeded up to the cool summit of Mt. Lemmon where the Broad-tailed Hummers cavorted above a tiny stream. The metallic buzz of their wings easily identified these mites, which come many miles to nest in the Santa Catalina mountains.

Several pairs of Arizona Juncos were feeding young in their nests built on the ground under a dead branch or in a little bank. I photographed one pair whose young could already fly. We caught the young and lined them up on a small pine limb where the parents could feed them in front of the camera, which they did with no apparent fear.

Our quest here, however, was the Red-faced Warbler, a beautiful little bird of very local occurrence. We searched the whole afternoon for a nest of this bird and though we found the birds and watched them closely as a pair gathered food, we were unsuccessful, for they eluded us in the thick willows of the stream bottom.

These little Warblers really have an orange rather than a red face and are strikingly marked. Late in the day we decided to stay on Mt. Lemmon and try to find a nest of these butterfly-like beauties. The next day we decided to visit the wife of the local Coronado National Forest Ranger, who had been feeding the wild turkeys for several months and a small band had become quite tame. On the way to the ranger station we took a back road and saw three wonderful gobblers feeding in a little clearing filled with bracken. We stopped and put out a mixture of peanut hearts and assorted grain atop and around a cut off pine stub and then continued on our way. The ranger's wife was very nice and suggested we return at 5:00 p.m., when she customarily fed these magnificent wild fowl.

We then visited the place where we had seen the three gobblers and found that they had returned and were eating our grain, but quickly left when we approached. We set up a simulated tripod within the foliage of a small pine and nailed a large empty tin can atop it so the turkeys could get used to a foreign object in their favorite clearing. At 4:30 p.m., near the ranger's house, I carefully concealed myself in a small stand of pines using a 24" lens on the camera so that I could photo-graph them without disturbance, for wild turkeys are very wary and can seldom be approached closely. I was quite unprepared for what followed. Almost exactly at 5:00 p.m. three large gobblers walking in single file came down through the pines and right through the back yard of the house. The ranger's wife saw them and came out of the house with bread for them. She threw small piece and the turkeys, forgetting the solemn dignity of their entrance, went after each piece like barnyard hens after grain. These beautiful, graceful and stately turkeys were completely unafraid of her. Cautiously, I came out of my hiding place and the birds paid me very little heed. I made several fine photographs and then the turkeys left in as dignified a manner as they had arrived. The next morning at 7:00 a.m., we and they, with three more beautiful gobblers, were on hand. I made 25 more expo-sures and then went to our baited meadow. Five gob-blers and a hen were busily eating the food we had pro-vided. At our approach they all quickly disappeared among the ferns and pines. We put out more food, substituted the camera for the very bad facsimile we had left previously, connected the tripper to a tiny radio receiver and concealed ourselves 250 yards away in a spot which afforded an excellent view of our baited area with the aid of binoculars.

In twenty minutes a single gobbler walked cau-tiously from the pines to the food and started uncon-cernedly to eat. A hen stood at the edge of the clearing and watched but ventured no closer. Soon three other gobblers joined the first, but the hen still walked back and forth along the edge without entering the picture area. Since I had no way with this outfit of changing my film remotely, the one shot must be good, for in order to change the film I would have to frighten them away again, and my experience led me to believe that they would not return until evening.

While eating they bobbed their heads up and down so fast that I feared that the slow shutter speed which was necessary to secure extreme depth of field would not stop the action. So, since the light was perfect, I waited until the food was nearly all gone. Three gobblers were in my field. I imitated the call of a hen turkey. Two of them stood quietly a moment and even though the third continued to eat, I pushed the button of the tiny transmitter. I saw them all look toward the camera as the shutter clicked and then resume their feeding. I waited ten minutes and two left. I then walked slowly toward the camera and the other left.

We put out more food and waited two hours but they did not return, so, after replacing the simulated camera, we left.

Back near the lodge we examined the nest with four eggs of a Green-tailed Towhee, but the bird was uncooperative, so we left and went to the lodge, where I could transcribe my field notes, check over the camera equipment, and put our small storage batteries to charge for the morrow.

Early next morning we again visited the last place we had seen the Red-faced Warblers, and soon I saw the male, carrying a beakful of green caterpillars, disappear into a tiny hollow beneath a branch on the pine-needle-covered hillside. A moment later we were examining the nest with five small young of these diminutive beauties.

The nest was constructed of soft grasses and other vegetable fibres and was placed in a small hollowed cup directly beneath a small dead pine bough. I set up the camera and the high speed strobe lights. Both parent birds were very attentive and both sang in the characteristic warble of this species, although in most species only the male has a song-a sort of sweet-sweet-sweet-sweeet-tzeeee-tzeeee. The male was more contrast-ingly marked than the female and he always flew from a tiny pine directly to the nest, usually hovering for a moment above it before alighting. I secured several fine photographs of him in this position. The female meanwhile approached to the top of a tiny dead pine stub which was directly behind the nest, and after several false starts would alight beside the nest and feed the young. After each of the pair had been recorded several times, I waited for the two to visit the nest together, which they normally did not do. Finally, by waving my arms and otherwise intimidating the less wary male, I kept him away with food in his mouth until the female arrived. Then he would fly to the nest before she could finish feeding. I made several shots of the pair at the nest and left feeling elated with our success in this lovely high mountain glen.

Now our path led to the wonderful Huachuca Mountains, a fabulous storehouse of avian surprises. Along the road from Sonoita to Hereford there are many magnificent yuccas (Yucca elata), a species quite unlike those of California. As we passed a particularly beautiful group of blossoms I heard the meadowlark-like warble of a Scott's Oriole and saw a brilliant flash of yellow and black as the male flew from one of these large blossoming members of the lily family. We stopped and quickly found a neatly woven cradle attached to the lower dead leaves of a yucca. The nest held three young perhaps four days old. I set up the camera with a special wide angle lens and the high speed strobe lights. When all was in readiness I moved the 4-wheel-drive station wagon out into the field to a position where I could easily observe the nest. The male returned in fifteen minutes to a tiny Mesquite at one side of the nesting yucca. He sang his melodious warble and then flew to feed his three young. A few minutes later the female returned to the same spot, sang the same little song and fed her young. I made 24 exposures in three hours, securing lovely shots of both adults in flying and perching positions, including some six exposures of both parents at the nest together. I was surprised to find that here again the female also sang the characteristic flute-like phrase.

In the Huachucas in 1954, however, our fortune was poor, for it had been a dry year and few of the many feathered beauties which usually abound in these rugged mountains which overlook Mexico had lingered to nest.

High on the mountainside we secured some photographs of a Zone-tailed Hawk, which was perching on a dead pine stub. Slightly further on we found the nest of a very friendly pair of Hepatic Tanagers. Their nest was in a small conifer which grew close to a vertical rock wall of the outside edge of the road cut. Since I could not get my camera in position to photograph the nest without a "sky hook," I contented myself with pho Photographs of the birds alighting on a perch about ten feet from the nest. After making several photographs of the Tanagers, we returned to our headquarters at Carr Canyon Ranch, and early the next morning started for Los Angeles, leaving behind many rare and yet undiscovered secrets for another spring.

The photography of birds has so many aspects that no formal set of rules is applicable. I started out with a 35mm camera. Several friends, who use Kine Exacta cameras, with various telephoto lenses, obtain pleasing results for projection and publication in this way. However, I soon became disappointed with 35mm because I was unable to obtain the fine feather detail and coloration that I could see through my binoculars.

In order to improve this detail I switched to 4 x 5 cut film and started out with both Kodachrome and black and white in this size, using conventional equipment. Again I found shortcomings and decided to build my own equipment. The outfits that I have eventually accumulated consist of 3 cameras-all using 4 x 5 cut film. Since size and weight are such important factors, where long field treks are inevitable, I have designed and built a lightweight folding camera similar to a Voigtlander Avus, but with interchangeable bayonet mounted lenses and a coupled rangefinder. It is much smaller and lighter than a Graphic or Linhoff Technica. In building these cameras I have used parts of standard equipment wherever possible.

For this camera, I have a number of lenses, all mounted in full synchro shutters and each has its own electrically operated shutter release. My most often used lenses are a 90 mm Schneider Angulon f6.8, a 100 mm Kodak Widefield Ektar, a 6% f4.5 Kodak anastigmat, an 8" f7.7 Kodak Anastigmat, a 12" f6.3 Kodak Ektar, a 14" Zeiss f8 Apotessar and an 18" f9 Zeiss Apotessar.

I also have a 4 x 5 Graflex outfit which has been altered to satisfactorily mount, in addition to the standard 8" f5.6 Ektar, a 14" f5.6 Dallmeyer telephoto, a 17" f5.6 Dallmeyer telephoto and a 24" f5.6 Dallmeyer telephoto. I have also built a very lightweight Graflex style outfit with a permanently mounted 36" f6.3 Dallmeyer telephoto. Each of these lenses has been selected for individual definition by performing optical tests. This partial list may sound formidable but here I should explain that some outfits or lenses are extremely limited in use. I have found the 36" lens valuable only when photographing waterfowl or large shorebirds from a blind. The Graflex is used almost always with the 14" lens and the other outfit which I use for at least 90% of all my bird photographs is most valuable with the 90 mm, the 6% and occasionally the 8" lenses.

Many of my earlier photographs were made with 12" or 18" lenses, thus affording a large image size from a moderate distance. The backgrounds, of course, were always very much out of focus. As time went along I felt more and more the need to produce fine illustrations of a species rather than a few scattered portraits of individual birds. This called for entirely new techniques. I also wanted to show birds in flight, which was impossible with my earlier equipment employing flash bulbs and long lenses. Much experimental work was done and finally some new items were added piece by piece. The first of these was a high speed electronic flash unit. This device, invented by Dr. Harold Edgerton, utilizes high voltage condensors which discharge their stored energy through gas filled tubes to produce a brilliant illumination for a very short interval of time. The particular unit I decided upon had an exposure duration, by using two flash tubes, of about 1/10,000th of a second. I doubled the light output of this at à sacrifice of some speed. Next, I had one of my friends, who is an electronics expert, build for me a tiny radio transmitter and receiver which enabled me to operate the camera from distances up to 1,000 feet by merely pushing a button on the transmitter. Since all of this electronic equipment persisted in failing at the most crucial moments, I later learned enough about the science to make any necessary repairs quickly in the field.

The high speed of the strobe lights can only be utilized to stop action if there is no other light which will expose the film during the much longer interval required for the shutter blades to open and close. Therefore, I usually set my shutter at 1/500th of a second and moved the lights in close enough to use f16.

One day a few years ago I was photographing a pair of Yellow Warblers feeding their young, high in a flimsy willow tree. From my position I could not easily see my shutter markings and consequently exposed 24 sheets of film at 1/25th second at f16 instead of at 1/500th as I usually did. Strangely enough, the Warblers were stopped perfectly by the flash and instead of my usual dark background there was a slightly underexposed, but very presentable, typical willow thicket background. Working further along this theory, I switched to very short, wide angle type lenses such as the 90 mm Schneider Angulon and found that at very small stops the background was still identifiable. Several refinements helped even more-one was a method of processing Ektachrome, or direct separation negatives, to provide a speed of 100 ASA. Another was a special optical element to increase the depth of field of the lens and another was the increase of the strobe light output. These factors combined to give me a basic exposure of 1/25th at f32 in summer daylight. Now I could select a shadowed area, such as beneath trees or under heavy foliage, but with open background, and stop the birds in flight while the background scene remained sharp and well exposed. Occasionally the fast moving wing tips produced slightly darker outlines at the rear of the wings where the background received slightly less exposure, but I could repair these slight problems on the prints.

The next problem became one of timing. It is one thing to push the button as a bird sits on the side of its nest, but quite another to push it at precisely the instant when the flying bird completes a composition. I often shot 24 exposures under such conditions without obtaining one in which the flying bird was exactly where I should have liked it to be. Human reactions are just too slow.

Again I experimented and called in my electronics friend to design and build a photo-cell tripper unit which would shine a light beam across the camera field to be reflected by a mirror back into the unit. After several tries we came up with a unit which would trip the camera shutter just 1/2,000th of a second after the light beam was interrupted. Now I was able to calculate the exact position where I wanted my flying bird to be and when the unit was set up he would take his own picture at the exact correct instant. In actual operation the outfit is set up, focused, and the photo-cell tripper carefully adjusted. I then retire to a place where the birds will not be disturbed by my presence. I carry in my hand a small, 2 x 2 x 1 inch remote control box with a push button and small toggle switch. The push button will release the camera shutter whenever it is pushed. The toggle switch, when it is activated, turns on the light beam and any interruption of this beam automatically trips the shutter. The strobe is, of course, synchronized to the shutter and goes off at the same instant.

In some cases I may wait until the female comes to the nest to feed young. When she is on the side of the nest and the male starts to approach, I turn on the toggle switch and activate the light beam. The male flies toward the nest and as he interrupts the light beam in his flight, the entire scene is captured. Usually I expose from 12 to 24 shots of each set-up to be sure that at least one will be outstanding.

I have also used with success a special camera which exposes 3 negatives at one time, each recording one of the primary colors. This camera uses a specially balanced panchromatic film and is popularly known as a "One Shot" camera. The advantages of such an outfit are better shadow detail and perfect color balance. The disadvantages are its extremely delicate internal pellicle (mirror) placement in order to obtain 3 exposures through 3 separate filters at one time. Also it cannot be used with an extensive array of lenses due to its basic design.

Each year my equipment undergoes extensive revision. For example: At present I am building much lighter weight and more efficient strobe lights which will discharge through two flash tubes in 1/20,000th second. This equipment weighs only that which I have been using until now. My electronic friend is also working on a new radio control unit which will use transistors in place of tubes. This change will increase the efficiency of the unit as well as make it much lighter in weight. Many of the photographs which seem impossible today become reality tomorrow as we adapt to our use the tremendous achievements of science.