For All Seasons: A Big Bend Journal 9780292731448

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FOR ALL SEASONS

Red-spotted Purple Butterfly

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FOR ALL SEASONS A Big Bend Journal

Roland H. Wauer Drawings by Nancy McGowan

U N I V E R S I T Y OF TEXAS PRESS

AUSTIN

Copyright © 1997 by the University of Texas Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America First edition, 1997 Requests for permission to reproduce material from this work should be sent to Permissions, University of Texas Press, Box 7819, Austin, TX 78713-7819. © The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences— Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI 239.48-1984.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA Wauer, Roland H. For all seasons : a Big Bend journal / by Roland H. Wauer ; drawings by Nancy McGowan. — 1st ed. p.

cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-292-79117-8 (pbk.: acid-free paper) i. Natural history—Texas—Big Bend National Park. Texas—Big Bend National Park.

2. Seasons-

I. Tide.

QH105.T4W37 1997 5o8.764'932-dc2i

97~4743

Contents vii Introduction xi Acknowledgments xiii Natural History Calendar

i JANUARY 15 FEBRUARY 29 MARCH 45 APRIL 65 MAY

85 J U N E 101 JULY

in AUGUST 127 SEPTEMBER 139 OCTOBER 151 N O V E M B E R 163 D E C E M B E R 173 Afterword 183 Common and Scientific Plant Names 189 References 195 Index Photo sections follow pages 48 and 144.

BIG BEND NATIONAL PARK

Road Primitive Road Trail

Introduction For All Seasons: A Big Bend Journal was written with two purposes in mind: to provide the reader with a day-by-day, yearlong perspective on the changing seasons in one of the most spectacular of our national parks, and to pass on details about a wide variety of personal experiences, ranging from various hikes and discoveries to out-of-the-ordinary observations and studies, a few of which were previously available only in scientific reports. The narrative runs from January 1 through December 31, in twelve monthly chapters, so that the reader can go to any one day or period of time to learn about what might occur at that time of year. All my daily descriptions occurred from August 1966, when I first moved to Big Bend National Park, through mid-iggG. I resided within the park, as chief park naturalist, until mid-1972, when I moved into the regional chief scientist position at Santa Fe, New Mexico. During the next six years (1972-1978), still involved with research and resource management at Big Bend, I visited the park regularly at various times of the year. However, after late 1978, when I moved to a Washington, D.C., assignment (chief of natural resource management), and until I retired from the National Park Service in May 1989, my Big Bend Park visits were few and far between. Since moving back to Texas in May 1989,1 have renewed my involvement with the park and have begun conducting avian population research and annual bird ecology seminars. Park visits, therefore, became far more numerous. It was during these later visits, responding to numerous questions from park employees and others about the "earlier" years, that the idea of this book occurred to me. And so, during 1995 and 1996,1 developed the various issues and prepared the narrative. The actual writing of For All Seasons has been one of my most enjoyable literary efforts to date. Once I settled on the list of issues to be included, through the review of sixteen notebooks in which I

viii FOR ALL S E A S O N S had maintained detailed observations during my six-year park residency and later visits, it was all pure pleasure. I found myself recalling each experience with joy and excitement. Whether it was finding myself in the middle of a herd ofjavelinas, being trailed by a mountain lion after dark, encountering a territorial whip-poor-will face to face, discovering a new creature for the park, the state of Texas, or the United States, or participating in one of the park's Christmas bird counts, I relived each with relish. In describing my numerous Big Bend experiences, I have tried to incorporate some of the same excitement that I felt at the time. Other topics, such as cactus or breeding bird surveys, are more informational in character, providing details of happenings and findings that have not previously been reported. Many of these observations represent a snapshot in time and therefore provide valuable insight into a sequence of events that might otherwise be lost. Also within the narrative, I have included the names of various friends and colleagues who shared pertinent experiences. My many hikes and numerous other activities were greatly enhanced by their participation; these folks are mentioned in the acknowledgments. Several of the incidents described in the narrative must be placed in perspective. My residency in the park came at a time when the abundant natural and cultural resources required documentation. This often involved extraordinary methods not normally allowed in national parks that have already been adequately surveyed and studied. For example, I maintained a bird-banding station at my Panther Junction residence and at various other times at Rio Grande Village, near Castolon, and at Boot Springs. This activity led to a better understanding of avian numbers, distribution, and length of stays. For instance, I discovered that the nonnative house sparrows at Panther Junction and the Chisos Basin were all part of one large flock; birds banded at Panther Junction often fed at the now abandoned (since 1995) Chisos Mountain Remuda in the Chisos Basin. House sparrows at Rio Grande Village spent their summers, when fewer campers were present, at the nearby Mexican village of Boquillas. The operation of a banding station normally includes attracting the birds with nonnative materials, such as bird feed and a birdbath, a practice that is not normally permitted in a national park.

INTRODUCTION

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In addition, in recent years adjacent ranchers and other private landowners have clamped down on any visitor trespass onto their land. For instance, while access to the Adams Ranch, just east of the Dead Horse Mountains, was lax during the 19603 and 19705, entry is now permitted only on a fee basis. It is imperative that all private lands surrounding the park be respected, and that no one enter any private land without permission from the owner. Names of numerous locations, as well as animals and plants, are scattered throughout the text. For consistency, names of all sites within the park were derived from the Big Bend National Park free brochure or, for backcountry sites, the Big Bend National Park, Texas, topographic map published by Trails Illustrated (1994). All plant names, except for cacti, were derived from Michael Powell's Trees & Shrubs of Trans-Pecos Texas (1988) or, for herbaceous plants, Correll and Johnston's Manual of the Vascular Plants of Texas (1970). Names of the cacti are being revised, and so I have utilized those common and scientific names from my Naturalist's Big Bend (1980). The exception includes the ground chollas that were described by Barbara Ralston and Richard Hilsenbeck (1989). Names of all invertebrates and fish are those utilized by the most pertinent researchers or best-known authors: butterfly names were derived from the North American Butterfly Association's Checklist & English Names of North American Butterflies (1995); amphibian and reptile names were taken from Roger Conant's A Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of Eastern and Central North America (1975); bird names are those utilized by the American Ornithologists' Union's Check-list of North American Birds (1983) and supplements; and mammal names are taken from David Schmidly's The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas (1977). Finally, to all my readers, whether you are long-time advocates of the Big Bend country or first-time visitors, I wish you many happy and exciting times in one of the world's most outstanding national parks. Enjoy! Ro Wauer August 29,1996

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Acknowledgments I first want to thank two individuals—Mike Fleming, resource management specialist at Big Bend National Park, and David Riskind, natural resource program director with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department—for their thorough review of my early manuscript and their pertinent suggestions. Both of these individuals have been long-time friends and are extremely knowledgeable about Big Bend National Park. Several other friends and colleagues also provided assistance with the manuscript: John Jameson reviewed the entire manuscript as part of the official university press review process, and he provided several excellent suggestions. Bob Burleson, Mike Powell, and Arnold Van Pelt reviewed pertinent sections; Jerry Johnson provided comments regarding gecko distribution; Lloyd Pratt aided me with information regarding land snails; Keith Yarborough provided me with information on changing air quality in West Texas; and finally, my wife, Betty, edited all the initial draft chapters. I am most grateful to all these folks for their assistance and support. There also is another group of friends and colleagues that I want to acknowledge who shared some of my many hikes, studies, and other Big Bend activities. The following individuals helped make my various experiences especially enjoyable: Bob Barbee, Jon Barlow, Anne Bellamy, Sam Bishop, Sarah Bishop, John Bissonette, Bill Brown, Dave Brown, George Burdick, Bob and Mickey Burleson, Larry Clabaugh, Roger Conant, Jim Court, Charles and Betty Crabtree, Don Davis, John and Addie Delaby, Deborah Douglas, Dave Easterla, John Egbert, Mark Flippo, Ned Fritz, John Galley, Paul Gerrish, Bill Graber, Russ Grater, Ty and Julie Hotchkiss, Clark Hubbs, Bill Jensen, Jay and Ruth Jessen, Paul Krausman, Jim Lane, Roy McBride, Bernice and Jack McGee, Bruce McHenry, Dick Nelson, Noberto Ortega, Mike Parmeter, Ray Skiles, David

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Riskind, Carl Robinson, Rose Ann Rowlett, Kent Rylander, Pete Sanchez, Jim Scudday, Mike Shields, Roger Siglin, Jim Stanfield, Jerry and Nancy Strickling, Jim Tucker, John and Gloria Tveten, Vic Valezuela, Arnold and Steve Van Pelt, Barton Warnock, Brent Wauer, Jim and Lynne Weber, Paul and Martha Whitson, and Russ and Marion Wilson. I thank them, one and all!

Two-tailed Swallowtail Butterfly

Natural History Calendar January Coolest month. Best month for desert hiking. Occasional northers with ice and/or snow. Bear cubs born in dens. Northern hawks usually wintering in the lowlands.

February Black dalea and blackbrush acacia start blooming in desert arroyos. First northbound migrants—violet-green swallows—appear along the Rio Grande. Early lucifer hummingbirds utilize flowering acacias. Sandhill cranes pass overhead. First roadrunner songs. Earliest cactus flowers. Chisos bluebonnets appear along desert roadsides.

March Spring is definitely in the air. Wildflowers bloom en masse in the lowlands after wet winters. Neotropical migrants increasing, especially in lowlands. Peregrine falcon courtship begins in river canyons. Mexican jays begin to nest in the mountains. Elf owls return to lowlands during midmonth. Zone-tailed hawks return during midmonth. First Colima warblers return.

xiv FOR ALL S E A S O N S Flammulated owls return in late March. Giant daggers bloom by the end of the month.

April Days are warm and sunny. Varied buntings appear at weedy lowland sites. Neotropical migrants continue to increase. Cactus flowers reach a peak by midmonth. Wildflowers begin blooming at mid-elevations. Desert birds are nesting. Peregrine falcon eggs hatch. Scaled quail young appear with adults. Yellow-billed cuckoos, last of the summer resident birds, arrive.

May Driest month. Spring bird migration peaks during the first week. Mountain lion kittens are born. Last of the wintering birds head north. Colima warblers begin nesting. Black-capped and gray vireos begin nesting. Century plants begin blooming in the Chisos foothills. Hottest days of the year.

June Hottest month. Last of the northbound migrants pass through. Afternoon thunderstorms may occur. Young of mountain-breeding birds are commonplace. Longest day of the year. Band-tailed pigeons congregate at acorn-bearing oak trees.

NATURAL HISTORY CALENDAR

xv

July First of the southbound rufous hummingbird males appear. Century plant blooms reach a peak. Mountain sage begins to bloom on upper slopes. Lowland hummingbirds move into the mountains. Cicadas and Big Bend quonkers are common in the mountain woodlands. Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer fawns are born. Summer rains can begin at any time. Low point in desert bird life.

August Days are cooler and afternoon showers are commonplace. Occasional flash floods occur in the lowlands. Many southbound neotropical migrants appear in the mountains. Post-nesting Mexican birds are possible. Millipedes appear en masse on desert roads.

September More southbound migrants and Mexican birds can be expected. Autumnal equinox. Fall migrants peak in midmonth. October Southbound migrants still present all month. Second surge of fall migrants occurs. Days are noticeably cooler. Desert hiking becomes more common.

November Coyote courtship, with much singing, begins. Fall colors—on oaks and maples—appear in the high country.

xvi FOR ALL S E A S O N S A late surge of migrants occurs in late November. Sparrows are abundant on the Rio Grande floodplain after fall rains.

December Most days are extremely pleasant. Good hiking weather. A few hummingbirds are still present at blooming tree tobacco shrubs in the lowlands. Occasional northers can occur after midmonth. Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer rut peaks. Christmas bird counts dominate the last days of the month.

JANUARY J A N U A R Y i (1967). The new year began with an especially clear, sunny morning at Panther Junction, park headquarters and employee residence area. Dozens of wintering songbirds were present in the surrounding desert. Canyon towhees, dark-eyed juncos, white-crowned sparrows, and house finches were most numerous. There also were several pyrrhuloxias, mourning doves, and scaled quail and smaller numbers of curve-billed thrashers and green-tailed towhees. When I walked outside to breathe in the clean, fresh air, the rollicking song of a cactus wren was echoing

Cactus Wren on Cane Cholla

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across the desert, a greater roadrunner was chasing a lizard up the roadway, and a Say's phoebe was fly-catching from the clothesline. I had decided to rest on New Year's Day after having recently completed three Christmas bird counts, presented two evening programs, and talked with hundreds of visitors during the previous week. The park's campgrounds had filled to overflowing right after Christmas, and all the park staff—especially interpreters, rangers, and maintenance employeeshad worked more than their expected eight-hour days to accommodate the abundant visitors. Although a crowded park taxed all of us, when a woman from Dallas told me that it was her first park visit, that she had "no idea Texas contained such gorgeous country," and that she would come back again with her grandchildren ("they need to see Big Bend National Park if they are going to grow up to properly appreciate nature and our wonderful national parks"), it made it all worthwhile. J A N U A R Y 3 (1970). Robber's Roost is an abandoned ranch located at about 3,000 feet elevation along an open arroyo below Juniper Canyon. Today, Dr. Jon Barlow of Canada's Royal Ontario Museum and I visited this location in search of wintering gray vireos. This songbird had not been known to winter in Texas before I had discovered one near The Chimneys a month earlier (see December 10 [1969]). Now Barlow, a professional ornithologist and vireo specialist, and I were attempting to locate additional individuals. Our findings were later published in the Canadian Journal of Zoology (Barlow and Wauer 1971). Jon carried a tape recorder and playback apparatus, and he played gray vireo songs every now and then as we scouted the area. We received no answer during the first couple of hours. But finally at Robber's Roost, a male gray vireo responded. Although it first remained concealed in a thicket of honey mesquite and desertwillow, it approached to within about ten feet of us. And during the next twenty minutes it sang several typical territorial songs, three whistle-notes (second one higher than the first, and the third note lowest in pitch), one after the other, with brief pauses in between. It also gave fifteen to twenty ground squirrel-like rattle-calls, unique to the species, as it foraged among the vegetation. It finally appeared in view on the open mesquite branches, and we watched it capture an inch-long

JANUARY

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short-horned grasshopper, which it pecked apart and ate while holding the grasshopper against the branch with its right foot. Our wintering gray vireo eventually moved away up the arroyo and disappeared. Other bird species recorded that day among the vegetation at Robber's Roost included white-winged and mourning doves; northern mockingbird; curve-billed thrasher; pyrrhuloxia; black-throated, chipping, claycolored, and white-crowned sparrows; and house finch. J A N U A R Y 4 (1973). An ice storm had moved into West Texas the previous day and the temperatures were in the teens; many of the highways were dangerously slick. Vic Valezuela and I had driven our valuable cargo of Montezuma quail from their capture site near Patagonia, Arizona, to the park, with considerable concern about the birds' well-being. They were to be released in Pine Canyon, a preselected habitat with an adequate food supply, as soon as possible. But the weather could create additional stress on the birds after they had already been caged for two to four days (they had been captured at different times) and had endured a fourteen-hour drive to Texas. By midmorning, however, the day was sunny and bright; the temperature at Panther Junction, where we were holding the birds, was already in the sixties. We decided that the birds' release into the wild, where they could find adequate food, was more important than holding them for another twenty-four hours. We loaded the five cages back into the station wagon, and by about 1:30 P.M. we were at the Pine Canyon release site. All twenty-six birds were alive and appeared to be in good condition as we moved the cages to the high bank at the end of the road. (About one mile of the road has since been closed to vehicular traffic.) A few minutes later we uncovered the cages, opened the doors, and stood back, inviting the birds to leave. It took several minutes before the first individual decided to risk it, but as soon as it was free and flying off, the remaining birds quickly followed. They all flew to the wooded canyon floor below us and totally disappeared from view. They were now on their own. Dave Brown, biologist with the Arizona Fish and Game Department, had provided us with considerable help in their capture; he and his dogs

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had been essential in trapping the birds in Arizona. Dave also had visited the park to assess the habitat for suitability during the planning stage. Based upon adequate cover and a good food supply, especially oxalis in the canyons, he had recommended the project and Pine Canyon as a release site. See April 25 (1975) and February 11 (1977) for two followup surveys. Further discussion of this bird is presented in A Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend (Wauer 1996). J A N U A R Y 5 (1969). Coyotes were still "singing" as I began my walk northeast from the highway bridge across Tornillo Flat. An unidentified park visitor had recently reported sage sparrows, considered a rare winter visitor, on the sparse grassy flat, and I intended to check it out for myself. Sure enough! During a three-hour walk, in a wide, two-mile loop route, I encountered a surprisingly large number of sage sparrows. Ever since then, this species, a breeding bird of sagebrush flats in the Great Basin of western North America, has been found in this area almost every winter. I also encountered a herd of fourteen javelinas on my walk. I was so intent on my search for sage sparrows, and also on identifying the various cactus species that might occur on these arid flats, that I did not see the javelinas until I had walked right up to them. They apparendy had frozen in place as I approached, thinking perhaps that I would pass by without noticing them. Instead, when I stopped to check out a particularly large devil's head, I spooked the herd. They suddenly exploded into flight in all directions. The exception was an old boar that remained in place, about thirty feet away, sniffing the air, snorting, and pawing the ground like an Andalusian bull. The hair on the back of its neck stood straight up. I froze in place, waiting for this apparently aggressive boar to make the first move. Within a few seconds it began a slow, rather jerky walk to my right, pausing now and then to sniff the air. I could see the abundant scars on its gnarled face and ears, evidence of many batdes with other javelinas and a life among the sharp lechuguilla leaves. It continued walking, making a complete circle around me. Suddenly, apparently catching my scent, it snorted, faced me, and clacked its teeth. Its neck hairs were again elevated. I remained still and quiet; javelina eyesight is extremely poor, and they largely depend upon smell and hearing to detect danger. Soon, it continued

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Aggressive Javelina Boar its walk, circling me at a maximum distance of about fifty feet. Each time it caught my scent it became aggressive again, snorting, pawing the ground, and clacking its teeth. Finally, after four complete circles, it moved away, following the others across the desert and out of sight. J A N U A R Y 8 (1970). Mesa de Anguila, located in the far western corner of the park, is one of the least visited parts of Big Bend National Park. Access is limited by the high cliffs of Santa Elena Canyon and the eastern escarpment west of Terlingua Creek. A trail that starts behind the little town of Lajitas to the northwest provides the best access. It makes an extended loop route on the high mesa top. I spent eight hours on the mesa today, recording all the birds I encountered and censusing the cacti. I detected only a dozen species of birds: golden eagle, common raven, ruby-crowned kinglet, verdin, canyon and rock wrens, crissal thrasher, orange-crowned warbler, pyrrhuloxia, canyon and spotted towhees, and black-throated sparrow. I observed the golden eagle soaring above me on several occasions; it could have been either a resident bird or a winter visitor. I also recorded fourteen species of cacti, but only one of those—foxtail cactus—was truly abundant. This neat little plant, known to science as

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Mammillaria pottsii, is rarely more than six inches tall and possesses many short white to reddish radial spines and six to twelve gray, dark-tipped central spines that generally are straight and protrude out and upward. Later in spring and also after summer rains, it produces lovely deep-red, bellshaped flowers that appear in a rosette near the top of the stems. Although widely scattered throughout the Chihuahuan desert in Mexico, its U.S. range is limited to the southern half of Brewster County, Texas. I found other cactus species: tasajillo, blind pricklypear, and strawberry cactus were commonplace; purple-tinged pricklypear, Texas rainbow pitaya, and mountain cob cactus were fairly common; and I found seven other species in smaller numbers. Catclaw cactus, Turk's head, sea-urchin cactus, living rock, and golf-ball cactus were widely distributed; devil's head was present only in the lower areas; and I found Duncan's cactus only on top of the mesa. It was too early for any cactus flowers, but several individuals possessed new flower buds. J A N U A R Y 11 (1970). I wandered along Terlingua Creek this morning, starting from Terlingua Abaja, the deserted village almost three miles above the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon. My principal interest was in photographing the ruins and obtaining a better understanding about this area of the park for a little interpretive book, Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River, that I was writing. Terlingua Abaja was established in about 1899 as a farming community to produce vegetables, wheat, and maize for the miners in nearby Terlingua. The remains of irrigation ditches were still evident along the creek banks. Downstream was a gauging station, established by the International Water and Boundary Commission, to record weekly records of the Terlingua Creek flow. There was very little water flowing in the creek today. A lone, dead cottonwood tree stood out in sharp contrast, a grim reminder of the area's changing environment. The park's only native cottonwood is narrowleaf cottonwood, which once was abundant along Terlingua Creek. At the turn of the century, the extended floodplain held a gallery forest of cottonwoods. But all these were cut for use in the Terlingua mines, and the Terlingua Creek floodplain remained bare of cottonwoods for several decades. But on

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visiting this same area in 1993,1 was amazed at the increased number of cottonwoods that were present. It appears that Mother Nature has begun to reclaim her domain and that lower Terlingua Creek may someday be dominated by cottonwoods once again. J A N U A R Y 14 (1971). The remains of an aerial tramway, situated below the mouth of Boquillas Canyon, had greatly interested me since I first arrived in the park. Today I planned to photograph whatever was left of this international historic site. I began the day along the roadway below Boquillas Canyon, where one of the huge ore buckets and several pieces of cable remained. I later followed the tramway route north across the arid limestone terrain, and in the afternoon I drove to Ernst Basin, where the huge discharge terminal was once located. Big Bend's mining history is primarily told at the Mariscal Mine along the River Road (see April 2 [1968]), but the international tramway story is unique. The tunnels and shafts of the Boquillas Del Carmen Mining Company were located in Mexico, more than two miles south of the Rio Grande in the foothills of the Sierra del Carmens. High-grade silver, lead, and zinc were mined from a number of tunnels on the fractured slopes. A six-milelong tramway hauled the ore from Mexican loading bins, down the slopes, and across the Rio Grande to the Texas terminal. The ore was then hauled by wagons, pulled by traction engines, to the nearest railhead in Marathon, approximately sixty-five miles away. Built in 1909, the tramway was capable of hauling 250 tons of ore daily. The tramway was powered by a forty-five-horsepower gas engine at the Mexican terminal, where the ore was loaded into buckets, each with a capacity of 6.5 cubic feet. The tramway cables were one inch in diameter on the loaded side and three-quarters of an inch in diameter on the empty side. The tramway system utilized a total of thirty-six towers, including four tension stations, starting with double towers near the loading terminal, low towers on the flats, and one sixty-foot-high tower to help carry the cables over a sharp rise. The towers were approximately 800 feet apart, with the longest span of 1,300 feet across the Rio Grande. Fifteen water carriers, each able to hold forty gallons, were attached to the empty side. An intermediate station, located on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande, served as a

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tension and watering station. The Texas discharge station also served as the American Custom House. I also was able to locate the company (A. Leschen & Sons Rope Company) that had designed the terminals (blueprints are dated January 2, 1908) and constructed the tramway for a Don Carlos Moser of San Antonio, Texas. Operations were terminated in 1919, when the cost of operations exceeded the revenues. J A N U A R Y 16 (1969). Hot Springs Canyon, located between Hot Springs and Rio Grande Village, is but a miniature of the park's much longer and higher big three: Santa Elena, Mariscal, and Boquillas Canyons. However, the arid limestone soils at Hot Springs Canyon contain a surprising variety of low desert vegetation. Lechuguilla, creosotebush, Torrey yucca, and ceniza were most obvious, and leatherstem and Texas falseagave were present in substantial numbers as well. My principal interest today was to census the cacti that occur on the limestone hills. I walked north from the Hot Spring Junction for a quarter of a mile, identifying and counting all the species found within approximately three feet of a centerline. I recorded a total of eleven species, but only one was commonplace—cob cactus (Goryphantha tuberculosa). This little cactus, which occurs singly or in clumps of up to fifteen stems, is seldom more than ten inches tall and has gray-green stems that are well hidden by short and variable spines, except at the base of the plant, where the spines fall off the tubercles. The base usually is completely bare of spines, giving it the appearance of a corncob. Violet-pink flowers are borne on the tips of the stems during April and May and again after summer rains. Eight other species of cacti were fairly common: living rock, Texas rainbow pitaya, sea-urchin cactus, dog cholla, devil's head, button cactus, golf-ball cactus, and cane cholla. I found fewer brownspine pricklypears and woven-spine pineapple cacti. None of these were in bloom, although several dog cholla and brownspine pricklypears possessed buds that would bloom before long. J A N U A R Y 18 (1968). This morning at Rio Grande Village, I discovered a number of green sunfish swimming in the isolated pond that had been developed to protect the park's most famous fish species, the endemic

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and endangered Big Bend gambusia. The nonnative sunfish, probably placed in the pond by well-meaning fishermen, would eventually eliminate the entire population of gambusias if ignored. I immediately set in motion a number of steps to save this fragile species. Within a couple of days, park maintenance employees began to dry up an adjacent pond that also contained a number of exotics: goldfish, mosquitofish, bluegill, and green sunfish. Once that pond was dry and we were satisfied that it no longer contained any fish, we added filtered water and allowed it to stand for about two weeks so that a natural food supply could develop. At that stage, the gambusia pond was drained, and Roger Siglin and I spent several hours seining out as many of the Big Bend gambusias as we could. We were able to collect more than 250 individuals; 150 of these were released into the new pond, and the remainder were taken to park headquarters, where they were placed in an aquarium in my office. Once the initial pond was completely dry, we added new filtered water and allowed a natural food supply to develop (this took about thirty days). I then released the approximately one hundred gambusias being held in my office into their new home. We also built a new fence around the pond and erected a new sign that I had written: Fish So Fragile—This pond contains the world's population of Gambusia gaigei. These minnow-sized fish have lived here since Mastodons. Unique and fragile, they survive only because man wants to make it so.

The Big Bend gambusia population immediately began to increase. They seemed to thrive, at least until further problems were detected in 1976; for these details, see May 5 (1976). J A N U A R Y 20 (1971). Paul Gerrish, friend from the park, and I hiked cross-country from Cattail Falls to Blue Creek today. The route was unmarked, and we had to find our own way. My notes, written in my field notebook that day, included the following: "Start at Cattail, cross canyon (old trail on south side), then follow slope up and into Ig. drainage that heads at massive Ward Mt. cliffs. Head for highest pass (at base of cliff). From Pass follow contour to ridge to south from where you can see the Ward Sp[ring] dike far below. Then a gradual descent to Sp, cont. SW,

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either over ridge or around to straight shot to pass and down drainage into Bl. Cr."

Bird life along the trail was sparse. Only two species were present throughout, canyon towhee and rufous-crowned sparrow. Both are permanent residents of the Chisos Mountains' mid-elevation grasslands. Somewhat similar in appearance, the larger towhee is all brown, with light underparts and a dark chest-spot, and a buff cap and undertail covert. Rufous-crowned sparrows possess a streaked back, plain gray-brown underparts, rufous cap, whitish eyebrows, and black whisker-stripes. On spring days, their songs often dominate the mid-elevation slopes: clear twosyllable "chili-chili-chili-chili" notes of the canyon towhee, and the rapid, bubbling "chip" notes of the rufous-crowned sparrow. J A N U A R Y 21 (1967). The Window Trail was extremely birdy this morning. The weather was cool and bright, and it seemed to me that all the birds wintering along Oak Creek were active. I recorded thirty-seven species in about three hours, and the most obvious of these was the little black-chinned sparrow. I detected more than a dozen individuals, either by their very distinct songs or because I found them searching for seeds along the trail. The black-chinned sparrow's song is one of the easiest of all bird songs to recognize, and, once heard, it is hard to forget. It begins with a series of "sweet" notes that are followed by a rapidly descending trill, like a bouncing ping-pong ball. The bird itself is a medium-size sparrow, mostly gray with a brown back and wings. It also possesses a black chin and face and a short, conical-shaped pink bill. J A N U A R Y 21 (1969). I surveyed the cacti this morning in lower Green Gulch. My route went southwest from the Green Gulch road junction, across the grassy ridge, and onto the higher rocky slope beyond. I recorded only eight species, but two of these were commonplace, Chisos pricklypear and brown-flowered cactus. I found two species to be fairly common, cane cholla and devil's head. I recorded only a few purple-tinged pricklypears and strawberry cacti. And I found even fewer Engelmann's pricklypears and cob cacti.

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The Chisos pricklypear (Opuntia lindheimeri var. chisosensis) is unique to the Big Bend area. It has grayish-green pads with widely spaced areoles, containing yellow glochids and spines that may be almost three inches in length. The cylindrical-shaped brown-flowered cactus (Echinocereus russanthus), usually solitary and seldom more than ten inches tall, has many radial spines that protrude from round areoles. True to its name, this cactus possesses inch-long, funnel-shaped brown flowers, with obvious pale yellow stamens and green stigmas. New buds circling the stem promised an early bloom. J A N U A R Y 23 (1969). The Dodson Trail, a n.5-mile route that circles the southern edge of the Chisos Mountains between Juniper and Blue Creek Canyons, is one of the park's best primitive hiking routes. Park rangers Jim Court, Gary Brandow, and Roy Allen accompanied me today, starting at the lower Juniper Canyon Trailhead at 8:30 A.M. and reaching the Blue Creek Canyon parking area at 4:30 P.M. Our first stop was in about three miles at the Dodson Place, where we found two dozen javelinas that had been sleeping in the old ranch house and rooting in the nearby seep. They scattered as we approached. The day was crystal clear but very cold. During the warmer season this hike can be extremely difficult, but the abundant views toward the east, south, and north are often spectacular. I know of no other area of the park that offers such extensive vistas of chaotic grandeur. I found only twenty-three bird species during the entire day, but I recorded more crissal thrashers that day than at any time before or since. Apparently the heavy rains of the previous fall months had produced adequate vegetation in the arroyos for this thicket-loving bird. At one point in midmorning, a crissal thrasher sang a three-syllable song from the top of an acacia. We all had a superb look at this long-tailed, long-billed bird. Its rust undertail covert was obvious. J A N U A R Y 26 (1968). I spent the entire day banding birds at Boot Spring. Using five mist nets placed at strategic places around the cabin site, I netted, measured, banded, and released a total of seventeen individuals of seven species: yellow-bellied sapsucker, ruby-crowned kinglet, tufted

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(black-crested) titmouse, Townsend's solitaire, spotted towhee, rufouscrowned sparrow, and dark-eyed junco (both gray-headed and Oregon forms). Before sunset, I walked the trail to above the Boot Canyon pouroff to photograph the evening colors on the Sierra del Carmen range to the east. I sat at the trail-side overlook directly across the canyon from the rhyolitic upside-down cowboy boot from which the area's name was derived. While I waited for the best color, more than forty common ravens appeared in a scattered flock at about eye level along the slope of Toll Mountain, a mile or more from my position. The ravens circled the upper portion of Juniper Canyon once, and then they all disappeared into deep crevices on the rocky face of Toll Mountain. They apparently had a winter roost there. J A N U A R Y 28 (1970). The Window Trail was extremely pleasant this morning. At about the halfway point I stopped to watch four Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer that were foraging on shrubs in the drainage below. They were sampling a variety of leaves, including white brush, Gregg ash, fragrant sumac, Texas buckeye, and skeletonleaf goldeneye. They seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time nibbling on Gregg ash. Afterward, a closer examination showed that they had been trimming away the new growth. Their nibbling undoubtedly helps shape this lovely plant. J A N U A R Y 29 (1967). Yesterday I had hiked to Boot Spring and stayed overnight at the park cabin. At dawn, I birded my way upcanyon to the South Rim, where I remained for several hours, watching for whatever might pass by. Besides the regular full-time resident woodland birds, I also recorded a magnificent golden eagle that flew over surprisingly close by; a high-soaring ferruginous hawk; about thirty-five white-throated swifts; and several wintering songbirds: golden-crowned kinglet; red-breasted nuthatch; house wren; Townsend's solitaire; orange-crowned, yellow-rumped (Audubon's), and Townsend's warblers; dark-eyed (both Oregon and grayheaded) juncos; red crossbill; Cassin's finch; and pine siskin. The white-throated swifts were most impressive. They were feeding over the South Rim, and on several occasions they zoomed by so close that I could actually feel wind from their passing. They also flew in and out of a

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cave below the South Rim, off to the right several hundred yards. It was obvious, after watching their actions, that the cave served as a winter roost. Although it was impossible to determine the size of the cave from the rim, I guessed that it may have housed a hundred or more swifts. White-throated swifts are able to overwinter in these kinds of locations, coming out to feed during mild days when insects are flying but staying out of the weather in a state of semihibernation during cold spells.

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FEBRUARY F E B R U A R Y i (1968). Mariscal Canyon lies at the very bottom of the Texas Big Bend, where the Rio Grande cut a twelve-hundredfoot-deep incision through Mariscal Mountain during the midCenozoic period. Today, the canyon provides one of the park's most popular of several float trips; the riverway contains no major hazards, and the seven-mile route is a relatively easy one-day trip. Our party of four—Sharon and I and John and Addie Delaby—left one vehicle at Solis and then proceeded west along the River Road to Talley, the popular put-in site. The river was

Rafters in Mariscal Canyon

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higher than normal, with a good continuous flow that would require little paddling and still allow leisurely sightseeing. We stopped for lunch at about the midpoint in the canyon, where the cliffs are less severe and an ancient trail crosses the Rio Grande. On the Texas side, it is possible to follow this trail, known as the Cross Canyon Trail, all the way to Solis. The trail also was a well-known smuggling route for hauling various materials from one country to the other. It was still in use by Mexicans for smuggling candelilla wax to buyers in the United States. A legal wax camp was situated just above the river on the Mexican side, and three workers greeted us as we approached. A hot fire of mesquite wood was being maintained under a metal vat of boiling broth. All the ingredients of the manufacturing process were obvious. A couple dozen bundles of candelilla plants lay in a heap nearby, where they had been unloaded from burros that had hauled them from where they had been gathered in the rocky, limestone soils; they are pulled up, roots and all. Candelilla (Euphorbia antisyphiliticd) grows throughout the lowlands of the central Chihuahuan desert region. A forty-gallon metal vat had been hauled in from some distant site and placed on iron rods over a fire pit that had been dug in the riverbank. The vat was filled with water from the adjacent Rio Grande. Once the water reaches the boiling stage, handfuls of the candelilla "weed" are thrown in. A small amount of sulfuric acid is soon added to render the natural wax from the plant. The wax comes to the top in a brownish foam. This foamy material is then skimmed off with a crude, long-handled scoop and deposited into a cooling tank. The foamy material eventually cools into a yellowish-tan, light-weight raw wax that is then broken into fistsized chunks, loaded into gunnysacks, tied onto burros, and hauled to buyers on both sides of the border. The Bank of Mexico purchases limited amounts of raw wax from numerous suppliers who usually fill their quota early each year. Since several of the extensive Mexican families along the border depend upon wax for their living, they often continue to produce more wax, even though they can no longer legally sell their products in Mexico. They often haul the raw

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wax into the United States, through the park, to pick-up locations along the River Road or elsewhere. There are several legal buyers in Texas (in Lajitas, La Linda, and Alpine) that will purchase all the raw wax they can obtain. The National Park Service attempted to stop the burro trains from passing through the park and was especially watchful for wax camps inside the park. A camp located at a spring would seriously impact the spring and the native vegetation and wildlife that depended upon the available water. Large areas of candelilla and associated vegetation were usually destroyed, as well. Although candelilla wax is no longer in demand as it once was due to a number of available synthetic substitutes, it still is a valuable commodity in Mexico. It is the only cash crop for several dozen families along the border. Its principal commercial value today is for cosmetics, but it also is used locally in Mexico for chewing gum, candy, and candles. F E B R U A R Y i (1969). Today I explored Laguna Meadow, a little valley located at 6,000 feet elevation below the western flank of Emory Peak, where it forms a natural pass between Blue Creek Canyon and the Chisos Basin. Laguna contains a fascinating assortment of vegetation types, from a true needlegrass meadow, edged with pinyon-juniper woodlands, to the park's best example of chaparral. The area of chaparral is situated on limestone soils in the northern corner, where the trail enters Laguna from the Chisos Basin. Representative plant species include Coahuila scrub oak, mountainmahogany, beargrass, desert ceanothus, evergreen sumac, and eggleaf silktassel. In the southwestern corner of Laguna is a depression, bare of vegetation, that fills with water after rainy periods. The abundance of scattered stone fragments, many of them obviously worked by earlier inhabitants, suggests that the area was once a popular Indian campsite. I also suspect that the little basin might produce some fascinating pollen samples of past vegetation types. In addition, archaeologists have identified a large "mescal pit" nearby, where Indians baked sotol hearts and maguey, the tip of young century plant stalks. Just behind the basin were the remains of a log cabin that was built by

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Walter R. Rooney, who ran sheep in this area from 1915 to about 1920. The old cabin and an adjacent hitching post have since fallen into disrepair. Today (1995), little more than pieces of metal and glass remain. F E B R U A R Y 6 (1971). Approaching Persimmon Gap from the south, I noticed a flock of huge birds flying north ahead of me. I pulled off the highway in the gap just as twenty-six sandhill cranes passed overhead. They were only a couple hundred feet above me, so their long necks and trailing legs were obvious, and their loud calls, like hollow, rolling gargles, were most distinct. I could hear their loud bugles as long as they were in sight. They seemed to be following the highway, and I watched them continue northward for about ten minutes. Sandhill cranes sometimes spend their winter months in Mexico, but these birds apparently begin their northward migration fairly early in the year. Sandhills nest throughout the northern Rocky Mountain states and north into Canada. Park sightings extend from mid-September to mid-March, with the majority in early spring, from early February to early March. F E B R U A R Y 8 (1968). I drove to Castolon this morning to pick up Jim Court, the park ranger stationed there; we later drove the River Road from Castolon to Tornillo Creek. However, before starting our trip, we spent several minutes watching the Courts' bird feeder to see if the blue jay was still present. And sure enough, before we had finished a cup of coffee, the blue-and-white crested jay arrived to take advantage of available handouts. This bird had been present at Castolon for about six weeks; it was only the second time that this eastern jay had been recorded in the park. It disappeared soon afterward. F E B R U A R Y 9 (1969). Today I flew over the entire park and adjacent landscapes, including more than fifty miles south along the Sierra del Carmen range in Mexico. Geologist friend and pilot Sam Bishop from Midland, Texas, and I took off from the Rosillos Ranch (a private airstrip), followed the Sierra del Carmens from Dog Canyon south, circled Boquillas Canyon and Rio Grande Village, and then flew south along the range. We later followed the Rio Grande westward, passing over Mariscal and Santa Elena Canyons. Then we returned to the Rosillos airstrip by way of the

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Chisos Mountains, where we circled these high peaks and ridges for an hour or more. The flight provided me with a very different and enlightened perspective of the park; the ruggedness of the terrain was obvious from the air. The Chisos Mountains jutted out of the desert landscape like a great, green centerpiece. All during the flight I shot Kodachrome slides with my 35mm camera, as well as black-and-white, four-by-five-inch negatives with the park's speed graphic camera. Later I was to use the large series of photographs for numerous projects, and the park is still using those same photographs to this day. F E B R U A R Y 11 (1977). Dave Brown, of the Arizona Fish and Game Department, and I spent several hours today in Juniper Canyon, trying to find any of the Montezuma quail, or their descendants, that I had released in Pine Canyon four years earlier (see January 4 [1973]). We had searched the Pine Canyon area the previous day. While I had counted seven birds in 1975 (see April 25), this time we failed to find any evidence of these quail in either canyon. However, we did discover evidence of a black bear, including reasonably fresh scat and overturned stumps and rocks, where it had been foraging for food in Juniper Canyon. This was the first good evidence of this large mammal in the Chisos Mountains in many years. Since then there have been numerous other sightings, including sows with cubs. See May 2 (1991), November 18 (1994), and May 4 (1996) for more recent sightings and information. F E B R U A R Y 12 (1967). My friend John Galley had discovered a fox sparrow at the Santa Elena Canyon picnic area on February i, and today was the first opportunity I had to see if this bird was still present. John's sighting represented the first time that this sparrow had been recorded in Big Bend National Park. It took me more than an hour, searching the general area, to find the bird. Since it represented a new park record, I collected it and eventually deposited the study skin into the park's study collection. I also sent the specimen to Dr. Richard Banks at the Smithsonian Institution in Washing-

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ton, D.C.; he identified it as the eastern race zaboria (Wauer 1969). According to the American Ornithologists' Union fifth edition of the Checklist of North American Birds (1957), this bird breeds in interior Alaska south to northern British Columbia, central Alberta and Saskatchewan, and southern Manitoba in Canada. This individual was apparently spending its winter in Big Bend National Park. F E B R U A R Y 13 (1969). Brown recluse spiders are never welcome in and around areas of habitation. So today, when I found one of these poisonous creatures in my garage, I decided it was time to learn a little about their life history and potential effects on people. I discovered that the Big Bend area possesses two brown spiders, the unicolor spider and the brown recluse. Both are dangerous, although neither is known to attack. The unicolor spider rarely occurs indoors, while the brown recluse, also known as the fiddle-backed spider because of the violin-shaped mark on its back, prefers dark corners and other out-of-the-way places inside buildings. Both will bite if sat on or if they become entangled in sheets or a sleeping bag. A victim first feels a stinging sensation like a mosquito or ant bite. After a few hours an inch-wide swelling develops, and there is a gradual increase in pain, sometimes to considerable severity. Within a few days the area darkens and forms a black gangrenous spot. In about two weeks the skin gradually begins to slough away, leaving an ugly, depressed ulcer. The bite usually evokes fever, chills, weakness, nausea, vomiting, and joint pains, in addition to general itching, inflammation, and blistering. Medical attention is almost always necessary. The bite can kill an unhealthy adult or a child. However, there are only one or two deaths attributed to brown spider bites in the United States each decade. Compared to the more than 200 fatalities from allergic reaction to the sting of bees and wasps, 70 or so attributed to the bite of black widow spiders, and 100 to 150 from snakes, deaths from brown spider bites are few and far between. F E B R U A R Y 15 (1968). I heard the first roadrunner songs of the year at Rio Grande Village this morning. The roadrunner's song is reminiscent of that of its close cousin, the yellow-billed cuckoo, a throaty, slow grunt, like "coo, coo, coo, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh." Although its song is not as ventriloquistic as those of some other birds, the distance is difficult to judge. I

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have watched roadrunners singing this song from only a hundred feet away and thought it sounded much farther away, and I also have heard its song from what I thought was a considerable distance but eventually discovered the singer much closer. F E B R U A R Y 16 (1970). I spent the entire day along the Old Ore Road, identifying cacti along the way. I recorded a total of eighteen species. Only devil cholla seemed to be abundant, although devil's head was common throughout. Seven cactus species I listed were fairly common: tasajillo, purple-tinged pricklypear, strawberry hedgehog, Texas rainbow pitaya, living rock, sea-urchin cactus, and long mamma. I found smaller numbers of spiny-fruit and blind pricklypears, Chisos pitaya, Turk's head, and cob cactus. In the northern portion of the route, in the McKinney Hills, I added cane cholla, Engelmann's pricklypear, and strawberry and brown-flowered cacti to the day's list. Devil cholla, known to scientists as Opuntia schottii, is one of the park's four ground chollas, which are often widely scattered across the lowland terrain. Pieces are easily broken off by passing wildlife. The round stems possess long, flat central spines, and the flowers, which bloom in the spring, are bright yellow. Devil's head (Echinocactus horizonthalonius) is a globular-shaped plant that is seldom more than eight inches tall, with stout but flattened reddish spines along each broad, gray-green rib. This species was already in flower; dainty, deep purple to pink flowers were present at the top center. F E B R U A R Y 17 (1969). The top of Burro Mesa is a world apart, in spite of its close proximity to the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive. I left my vehicle at the Old Ranch (Sam Nail Ranch) parking area, crossed Cottonwood Creek, and climbed the steep slope onto Burro Mesa. A red-tailed hawk circled above me; apparently I was encroaching on its territory. A large flock of scaled quail flew away as I topped out onto the mesa proper. I followed a series of wildlife trails westward that led to a pair of old stock tanks. I later learned that these had been constructed by rancher Homer Wilson. The largest of the two tanks, just east of an old corral, held considerable water that supported a large willow tree growing on the bank. The additional brushy vegetation at the tank contained a surprising

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number of birds, including a variety of species that normally spend their winter in weedy areas along the Rio Grande: hermit thrush, curve-billed thrasher, northern cardinal, green-tailed towhee, Brewer's and whitecrowned sparrows, and lesser goldfinch. I also detected a number of singing Cassin's sparrows as I continued on toward Apache Canyon. I ate lunch at the edge of Apache Canyon, a relatively small but colorful red-rock canyon that runs north-south. Indians once excavated the hard stone for making implements. I sat there admiring the scene and trying to imagine those early-day residents toiling for their existence. Then suddenly a golden eagle appeared overhead, apparently riding the thermals from the steep-sided canyon. A marvelous, wild creature in a lonely but enchanting setting. It stayed only a few seconds before gliding off to the south and out of sight. F E B R U A R Y 21 (1969). Today,I surveyed the cacti on the east-facing slope of Mariscal Mountain, starting at Solis and ending in about two miles on a high, open ridge. The lower slopes consist of rolling, limy alluvial gravels, with a few scattered creosotebushes, while the upper slopes consist of massive limestone layers dominated by Texas falseagave, lechuguilla, and mariola. I recorded a total of seventeen cactus species, and two of these— devil cholla and sea-urchin cactus—were truly abundant. Five species were considered common: blind and brownspine pricklypears, Texas rainbow pitaya, devil's head, and woven-spine pineapple cactus. Four were fairly common: Big Bend cane cholla, tasajillo, strawberry cactus, and mountain cob cactus. Six species were uncommon to rare: dog cholla; Engelmann's, Chisos, and purple-tinged pricklypears; Turk's head; and living rock. The sea-urchin cactus (Mammillaria echinus) is well named. Stems are seldom more than three inches tall, round or egg-shaped, and fairly well hidden by the abundant spines. The radials grow pressed against the stem, while the lowest of the three or four central spines stand straight out from the center of the spine cluster, like the spines of a sea-urchin. The flowers of this little cactus are truly outstanding; three inches across and two inches tall, the petals are a clear sulfur yellow with brownish-green on the narrow outer edges. The filaments are rose pink, and the anthers are bright orange. F E B R U A R Y 23 (1968). I had hiked to Boot Spring with friends Bill

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Jensen and Larry Clabaugh the previous day. We had stayed in the cabin overnight, and I had set up three mist nests in the immediate vicinity during the evening. Although it was a fast trip, I planned to band whatever birds I could net in the available time. That evening and the following morning, I captured, banded, and released fifteen birds of five species: acorn woodpecker, yellow-bellied sapsucker, tufted titmouse, canyon wren, and dark-eyed (gray-headed) junco. About an hour after dark, while sitting outside the cabin, I heard a northern saw-whet owl call several times from the pinyon-juniper woodlands on the slope to the west. Although I tried to call this bird closer for a view by flashlight, it did not respond, and I gave up trying after about an hour. However, before dawn on February 23, I unfolded the nets and squeaked several times (trying to sound like a mouse in distress) at the net nearest where the owl had called the previous evening. An hour later, I discovered my little saw-whet owl firmly entangled in the netting. This bird (a female) represented the first documented record of a northern saw-whet owl for the Texas Big Bend area; I photographed the bird in front of the Boot Spring sign to document its occurrence. That bird may have been the same individual that I had heard calling at Boot Spring after dark on November 3,1967. The only previous park record was one reported by Philip Allan at Boot Spring on March 7 and 9,1976. F E B R U A R Y 24 (1967). The Grapevine Hills consist of a jumbled mass of boulders along the southern edge of Tornillo Flat. Ross Maxwell provides us with a geological explanation of what happened there. The "uplift was caused by a laccolith that domed the rocks. The magma cooled beneath a rock cover and the cold head of the intrusion was not exposed until it was uncovered by erosion" (1968: 37). My interest in visiting the area was principally biological, and so I explored the area for whatever secrets I might uncover. Besides the fascinating assemblage of great boulders, including one series that formed a huge window, I was most impressed with the extensive grasslands and the birds they might support. Scaled quail were especially abundant; I estimated their number at about forty-five individuals. They were able to elude me easily by running

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Scaled Quail at Grapevine Hills

among the boulders. Watching these native quail, one can readily understand why the local folks refer to them as "blue quail" or "cottontops." Their plumage is a blue-gray color, and they possess a tall crest of whitish feathers. Their breast feathers appear scaly, the characteristic from which their common name was derived. One individual, probably the lookout, stood atop one of the great boulders, calling loud and harsh "pe-cos" notes during a good part of the time I was present. F E B R U A R Y 24 (1968). Early morning found me along the Rio Grande at the eastern end of the River Road. My goal this morning was to find and photograph the rare bicolor cactus (also known as "Texas pride") that occurs naturally only in the deep silty soils along the Rio Grande. After a rather extensive search, I discovered a few individuals in the deep shade of huge honey mesquites. My bicolor cacti, known to science as Thelocactus bicolor, were all solitary plants about twelve to fourteen inches tall, with bluish green to gray stems that were largely hidden by a mass of yellowish to reddish variable spines that were both rounded and flattened. The flowers also were variable in color, ranging from brilliant purple-red to light pink with a cream to yellowish center. This is truly an outstanding plant.

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F E B R U A R Y 25 (1969). Don Davis, seasonal naturalist,and I left our vehicle along the Old Ore Road at the northern end of the Ore Terminal Trail and hiked directly east into the Dead Horse Mountains. We skirted the southern end of Alto Relex and followed a long ridge for about three miles to where we encountered several stands ofjunipers. These are the red berry juniper (Juniperus pinchotii), a common tree on arid limestone hills throughout the Trans-Pecos and adjacent northern Mexico. During our uphill trek I surveyed the cacti along the way, recording a total of nineteen species. Two species—Texas rainbow pitaya and cob cactus—were abundant throughout. Common species included the blind pricklypear, devil's claw, and strawberry and sea-urchin cacti. Tasajillo, dog cholla, and devil's head were fairly common. I found a dozen species in smaller numbers: devil cholla, Engelmann's and purple-tinged pricklypears, Turk's head, catclaw cactus, and living rock were present throughout; brownspine pricklypear, slender-spined pitaya, and button and golfball cacti were only in the lowlands; I recorded mountain cob cactus only on the middle-elevation slopes; and I found Chisos pricklypear only in the highlands. Texas rainbow cactus is one of the park's most outstanding species when it blooms in late spring; large (three to five inches across) and showy yellow flowers dominate the solitary or clumped stems. The stems may be twelve to fourteen inches tall and four inches thick and covered with an abundance of whitish spines (see January 16 [1969] for a description of cob cacti). Of special interest were swarms of devil's claw and sea-urchin and cob cacti on small flats along the steeper slopes from 4,500 to 5,500 feet elevation. In places there were mixtures of thirty to forty plants within a few square feet. In a couple places, button cacti were present in swarms, as well. F E B R U A R Y 27 (1968). Only four species of turtles are native to the park: Big Bend mud turtle, Big Bend turtle, and eastern spiny softshell occur at water areas, and the desert box turtle is occasionally found in the arid desert. While birding Rio Grande Village this morning, I discovered a Big Bend turtle basking in the sunshine on a rock sticking out of the river about twenty feet from the riverbank. When I approached, it uncharacteristically

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allowed me to get close enough to enjoy a wonderful view. Eventually it slipped into the river and disappeared. The Big Bend turtle, sometimes called the Big Bend slider and known to science as Chrysemys scripta gaigeae, is seldom seen well, although it is reasonably common in the Rio Grande. It is five to eight inches in length and has a pale olive brown carapace with numerous pale orange curved lines. There are two spots behind the eye: a small spot near each eye and a larger black-bordered orange spot on each side of its head. (All the park's reptiles are described in Naturalist's Big Bend [Wauer 1980].) F E B R U A R Y 28 (1968). The desert wildflowers are amazing this year! Rains during the fall and winter and sunny days in January and February have apparently resulted in the right combination to produce an outstanding flower show. I spent a good part of the day along the roadsides, from Panther Junction to Persimmon Gap, identifying and photographing the various wildflowers. The landscape was often ablaze with varied colors of purples, blues, pinks, reds, yellows, and whites. Chisos bluebonnets dominated many of the roadsides and depressions with their tall purple stalks. Purple-flowering range ratany, New Mexico dalea, Texas filaree, Havard nama, hillside vervain, and desert verbena; pinks of the pink vervain; yellows of Fendler bladder-pod, senna, desert baileya, woolly dogweed, limoncillo, and caliche bahia; and the white many-flowered mesa greggia were also commonplace. Cacti were just beginning to bloom. I recorded a few red- to pink-flowering devil's head and golf-ball cactus; yellow-flowering dog cholla, Engelmann's pricklypear, and sea-urchin cactus; and white-flowering living rock and button and cob cacti. There also were a number of flowering shrubs. On the open flats, creosotebushes were filled with little bright yellow flowers, and several ocotillos possessed bright red flower-tips on their spiny stalks. The drainages were also productive. Guayacan shrubs were filled with deep purple flowers that had attracted an abundance of insects. The yellow flowers of mescat acacias and the whitish flowers of catclaw mimosas had attracted many of the same insects.

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F E B R U A R Y 28 (1971). I began my hike this morning at Blue Creek, met Jim Court at noon at Laguna Meadow, where we had lunch and exchanged vehicle keys, and afterward continued on to the Chisos Basin, where Jim had left my automobile; Jim continued on to the Blue Creek parking area, where I had left his pickup. In Blue Creek Canyon, I was especially interested in finding some of the endemic Chisos oaks. This partly evergreen oak, known to science as Quercus graciliformis, occurs only in moist side-canyons in the Chisos Mountains; it has never been found anywhere else in the world. I located several examples of this lovely little tree, with thin and leathery leaves, three to four inches in length, in three protected side-canyons in the vicinity of Cedar Spring. Such unique species are true indicators of the very special character of Big Bend's Chisos Mountains.

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MARCH M A R C H 4 (1967). Mouse Canyon is located at the northern edge of Wright Mountain, directly behind Panther Junction. It is an easy cross-country hike from the park's residential area. This afternoon, a prairie falcon dived at me just below the canyon mouth. Its long, pointed wings and black "wingpits" were obvious as it circled overhead. It eventually landed on a rock promontory high above the canyon bottom. The falcon's aggressive behavior and the fact that it stayed nearby convinced me that I had entered its nesting territory; this falcon nests very early in the year. So, rather than continuing

Courting Prairie Falcons

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upcanyon, I retreated about a hundred feet, sat down on a "comfortable" boulder, and began to scope the cliffs for a possible nest. Nothing. Then suddenly I was watching a pair of prairie falcons flying together directly above Mouse Canyon; the female was slightly larger than the male. They undoubtedly were courting, and for the next half-hour I watched this pair performing some incredible dives, climbs, twists, and turns, screaming at each other or together all the while. The upper slopes and cliffs accented the birds' cries, and it seemed that they were performing just for me. It was a wonderful and inspiring show. Then, without warning, they flew off to the right and out of sight. The desert was silent once again. M A R C H 5 (1971). I spent the entire day on Sue Peaks, the highest part of the Dead Horse Mountains. U.S. Geological Survey scientists were remapping the area by helicopter, and the pilot kindly gave me a lift in the early morning and picked me up late that afternoon. Although my trip started without a hitch, my scheduled pick-up did not go as well. I was at the appointed location at the proper time, but the day had become overcast, and my mirror, which I was using to signal my location, was not very effective. The helicopter pilot made three large circles trying to locate me and even followed the high ridge for several miles north before turning back and making one last try. At the very last second, one of the crew spotted me. I detected only seven bird species during my full day on Sue Peaks: red-tailed hawk, white-throated swift, Bewick's wren, spotted and canyon towhees, rufous-crowned sparrow, and dark-eyed (Oregon) junco. Sue Peaks supports only scattered red berry junipers and a variety of desert shrubs and grasses; small stands of junipers and pinyons occur in sheltered canyons below the crest. There is no spring or standing water anywhere. I also found a number of land snails among the high limestone rocks. I later sent specimens to Lloyd Pratt at the Dallas Museum of Natural History, who claimed that at least one of the three species, a "liptooth" of the genus Polygyra, represented a new species. In an August 1995 telephone conversation with Lloyd (now at the University of Nevada at Las Vegas), he informed me that my new discovery was never written up. The two additional land snail species I found that day included specimens of the dis-

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torted metastoma (Metastoma roemeri), a fairly widespread land snail, and the Stockton Plateau three-band (Humboltiana texana), representing the westernmost record of that species. M A R C H 7 (1968). I detected the first sign of the coming spring migration this morning at Rio Grande Village. I found a male rufous hummingbird feeding on the yellow, tubular flowers of a tree tobacco near the Daniel Ranch house. It was the first rufous hummer—an adult male in full breeding plumage—I had seen since the previous fall. It probably had been feeding there for some time, as it rested every now and then on a nearby mesquite limb and then would make another round of the abundant flowers.

Also that morning I watched a peregrine falcon circling above the Rio Grande. A pair of birds had recently been reported in Boquillas Canyon near an ancestral nesting area, and I assumed that this bird was one of those individuals. As far as I could determine, however, my peregrine had already fed that morning; it seemed more intent on harassing the various birds along the riverway than actually making a kill. It made some incredible swoops, dives, and steep climbs and finally flew upriver toward Hot Springs and disappeared. M A R C H 8 (1970). I led a bird walk at Rio Grande Village this morning. It began at the entrance to the campground, and our group of about a dozen people slowly birded its way through the campsites toward the nature trail. We picked up four or five additional folks along the way. At about the midway point, a woman asked if she and her dog could join the group. When I told her she was welcome but the dog, a little white poodle that was yapping at us all the while, was not, she tied the poodle to a picnic table and joined the group. We eventually reached the nature trail, which we followed toward the Rio Grande and a wonderful view of the distant Chisos Mountains. We later doubled back through the campground. As we approached the poodle-woman's campsite, instead of finding "Fifi" yapping away at us, we discovered only its remains. A javelina was just completing a poodledinner. The woman was hysterical. Although I felt sorry for her, the experience only confirmed my belief that pets and camping trips are not compatible.

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S M A R C H 9 (1969). Today's hike to Boot Spring produced a total of

thirty-four bird species, none of which were migrants. Although a few early northbound migrants are beginning to appear in the lowlands, especially along the Rio Grande, evidently none of the early migrants are passing through the highlands. However, several of the permanent resident birds were already in their breeding cycle. The common Mexican jays were nestbuilding. Although they were reasonably quiet (for jays), I observed two separate pairs carrying nesting materials. At Laguna Meadow, I watched one of these attractive, all-blue birds gathering horse hairs from along the trail. They utilize this hair as a lining in their twig-and-grass nests. It apparently gives the nest lining a soft, mattresslike texture. M A R C H i o (1972). I surveyed cacti in the Paint Gap Hills this morning, identifying a total of fourteen species. The majority were commonplace: tasajillo, dog cholla, Engelmann's and purple-tinged pricklypears, brown-flowered cactus, strawberry hedgehog, devil's head, and cob cactus. The remainder were less numerous: Texas rainbow pitaya; white-flowered cactus; long mamma; and mountain cob, golf-ball, and nipple cacti. A few plants were already in bloom: dog cholla, Engelmann's pricklypear, devil's head, and golf-ball cactus. Several of the Engelmann's pricklypears were covered with bright yellow flowers, each with green stamens. The tunas, which ripen in midsummer, supply numerous wildlife species with sweet, juicy fruit. Early-day settlers also used the large, red, juicy tunas for makingjeUy. M A R C H 12 (1967). Tonight, right after dark, I drove the highway from Panther Junction north to the Tornillo Creek bridge, looking for reptiles on the warm road surface. Besides the usual black-tailed and western diamondback rattlesnakes, bullsnakes, and a Texas long-nosed snake, I found my first Texas glossy snake. It was difficult to see on the roadway, it blended in so well. When I went to pick it up, it vibrated its tail on the pavement, sounding much like a rattlesnake. This behavior undoubtedly fools some predators, but I picked it up nonetheless and deposited it in a snake bag. I returned it to the same location two nights later after a detailed examination and several photographs. Collecting or holding any animal in the park is normally illegal, but my efforts were part of an official project to

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document all new and rare species as well as to obtain photographs for interpretation. My Texas glossy snake (Arizona elegans arenicola) was twenty-nine inches in length, its back was covered with brown blotches against a buff background, and it possessed a lighter belly and slightly elliptical pupils. Its name is derived from its unusually smooth body scales, which give it a glossy appearance. This snake normally occurs only in South Texas, but finding and documenting its presence in the Big Bend Country expanded its range more than a hundred miles west of any previously known location. M A R C H 15 (1969). Huge flocks of lark buntings were present along the Rio Grande this morning between Castolon and Santa Elena Canyon. I estimated one flock at about 250 individuals and several other flocks from 50 to 100 birds. In addition, I also found several sparrows—whitecrowned, vesper, chipping, clay-colored, Brewer's, savannah, Cassin's, field, white-throated, black-throated, grasshopper, and swamp (more or less in that order of abundance)—common at weedy patches. An obvious reason for their presence there was the plentiful grass seed crop, still remaining from the late summer and fall rains of 1968. M A R C H 18 (1970). Dr. Clark Hubbs, renowned ichthyologist from the University of Texas, and I took the last of a dozen Tornillo Creek fish samples this morning. Today's collection helped to confirm the status of eleven fish species, identified since our study began in August 1967. Lower Tornillo Creek serves as a breeding and nursery area for a number of Rio Grande fishes, although none are full-time residents. In fact, the Mexican tetra, redhorse and Chihuahua shiners, Mexican stoneroller, plains killifish, and mosquitofish appear to be dependent upon the creek only for breeding and rearing their young. Shiners seemed to occupy the creek primarily during the warm months and were rare or absent during the cooler winter months. Conversely, stonerollers were abundant in winter and sparse during the warm months. Suckers, mostly young river carpsuckers but occasionally blue suckers and gray redhorses, were only taken between May and October. The newly hatched young of these fishes migrate from the Rio Grande to tributary nursery areas. On the other hand, red and Chihuahua shiners

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were most common in our summer collections, apparently spawning in the creek. Mexican tetras, a schooling species, were taken only when the incidental school was present in our sampling area. Two nonnative species—plains killifish and mosquitofish—generally were found year-round. Both these aggressive species apparently were replacing some of the native fish populations. Plains killifish, a species probably introduced from bait releases, dominated the samples during the first five months of the year. Our sampling area was limited to a short segment of Tornillo Creek, only 50 feet in length and 325 feet above the confluence with the Rio Grande, to avoid occasional river strays. By using fine mesh nets, we were able to sample all the species possible with a dozen sweeps of the shallow creek. The results of our study were later published in the Southwestern Naturalist (Hubbs and Wauer 1973). M A R C H 19 (1967). Today I accompanied two Canadian birders—Jim Bailie and Rollie Sparrow—on a hike to The Window. The day was cool, bright, and sunny, a lovely day for hiking the Window Trail. All the resident birds seemed to be in full song. We recorded a total of thirty-nine species.

Fish Sampling in Tornillo Creek

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We had some wonderful views of bushtits along the way, including a blackeared bird copulating with a plain-plumaged bird very near The Window. Bushtits had recently been studied at Big Bend and at several other areas in the southwestern United States by Dr. Ralph Raitt of New Mexico State University. Raitt had concluded that all bushtits were a single species rather than two; until then there had been two accepted species: common and black-eared bushtits. Raitt's study showed that the black-eared birds were merely juvenile to subadult males and that many of the black-eared birds (known as "helpers") assist the adults with family chores. It is actually possible to find black-eared birds feeding nestlings, and these observations naturally created the misconception that the black-eared birds represented a second species. Since the publication of Raitt's study (1967), the two forms have been lumped by the American Ornithologists' Union as a single species, known simply as bushtit. Our observation of mating black-eared and plain birds further suggested that some juveniles retain their black ear patches at least until their second year. M A R C H 21 (1968). A very late snowstorm dumped almost an inch of snow on Panther Junction last night and today. The road into the Chisos Basin was closed for several hours. I spent three hours birding Rio Grande Village this morning but did not find any unusual species. However, when I arrived back at my house at Panther Junction, where it was still snowing, I discovered two white-throated sparrows at my feeder. It was the first record of this brightly marked eastern sparrow at Panther Junction. M A R C H 21 (1969). My four-hour morning survey of birds at Rio Grande Village produced sixty-five species, a high so far for the year. Many of these were migrants, including large flocks of lark buntings, similar to what I had found near Castolon six days earlier, and a few other sparrows. The bird of the morning, however, was a Virginia rail, found walking along the edge of the cattails at the silt pond. This normally shy creature remained in the open, where I was able to study all its features extremely well through binoculars: long reddish bill, bluish gray cheeks, cinnamon chest, mottled back, and barred flanks. A lovely bird that is not often seen so well. M A R C H 22 (1968). I spent the morning at Rio Grande Village with Martha Whitson, who is studying the courtship behavior of greater road-

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runners for her dissertation at the University of Oklahoma. I had found a roadrunner nest in a low, brushy area behind the store at the edge of the pond several days earlier. The first egg was deposited on March 20, and two eggs were present today. We spent several hours observing the adult roadrunners; these birds were to play an important part in Martha's dissertation. She later wrote a monograph that was published in The Living Bird (Whitson 1976). The summary portion of that monograph contained the following: "The Roadrunner's reproductive cycle begins with a lengthy preliminary courtship characterized by complex sequences of acoustic and visual displays by both sexes. The precopulatory behavior usually involved a tail-wagging display and food presentation by the male, with the female taking the food during cloacal contacts" (Whitson 1976: 251). In other words, male roadrunners elicit favors from the females with lizard offerings. M A R C H 22 (1969). Six couples began a Boquillas Canyon float trip today, starting at Rio Grande Village and terminating the next afternoon at La Linda. Sharon and I shared our raft with Bill and Mur Jensen, neighbors at Panther Junction. Today, by coincidence, was my thirty-fifth birthday, and so age naturally became a key topic on the river. Someone asked me if I felt any older today than I had the day before. I responded by remarking that age was something that meant very little to me, that I gave it very little thought. I said that I considered myself a young man. I then began a general discourse about stages in one's life, saying that I had long believed that I was a kid until graduating from high school, that I was then a young man until reaching thirty-five years of age

It suddenly dawned on me that, according to my

own definition, I was magically middle-aged. It was shocking, and it became a juncture in my life that I will long remember. M A R C H 23 (1968). I heard the first elf owls of the year at the Graham Ranch (at the west end of Rio Grande Village) during an evening visit there. Their strange warble—eight to ten low whistles, like "hew-ew, hewew, hew-ew, hew-ew, hew-ew, hew-ew, hew-ew, hew-ew"—was a welcome reminder that the new nesting season had begun. In spring and summer, these tiny owls can be surprisingly common throughout the lowlands and

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Elf Owl

up into the lower edge of the pinyon-juniper woodlands. They are especially evident when they first return from their Mexican wintering grounds. Although many of the adults undoubtedly return to the same territory in consecutive years, subadults and others wander about a good deal in search of suitable nesting sites. Nest cavities can include a wide range of places, such as natural cavities or deserted woodpecker nests in utility poles, fence posts, and numerous trees and shrubs. Once a suitable territory is located, the male will spend most of his time calling from singing perches along the edges. But once a female is attracted and mating occurs, both birds are far less vociferous and more difficult to locate. M A R C H 23 (1995). I met my brother Brent and his wife, Jennifer, today, and we toured the western half of the park: Castolon and Santa Elena Canyon, Cottonwood Campground, and the Chisos Basin. It was Jennifer's first time in the park. We ate dinner at the Chisos Mountain Lodge and walked out on the Window View Trail to enjoy the sunset. En route, we found that a small herd of javelinas had gathered near the trailhead. Several

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folks were taking pictures of these desert "pigs." However, no one noticed that amid the grazing javelinas was a chestnut-collared longspur, a little ground-feeding bird that nests in the northern prairie states. It kept moving here and there, staying out of the way of the javelinas and photographers. The longspur is a very rare spring visitor to the park, while javelinas are reasonably common year-round. The javelinas, however, were the center of almost everyone's attention. M A R C H 25 (1967). Several days ago at Dugout Wells I had placed a low mesh net on the ground, with five large coffee cans planted at ground level at strategic places along the fifty-foot-long drift fence. Checking the can traps this morning, I found a single lizard (a marbled whiptail) and three red-spotted toads trapped in the cans. One of the toads was actually singing; a tiny bit of water had collected in the can, and it seemed perfectly content. The red-spotted toad is the park's most common lowland amphibian, occurring throughout the desert and up to about 5,500 feet elevation in the mountains. It is a small toad, seldom more than two inches in length, and is easily identified by the abundant red spots that cover its gray to olive back. It also is the only toad with round parotid glands, the knobs behind the eye. It has a rather unusual song, a clear, high-pitched trill in C or C minor. M A R C H 25 (1972). Today I escorted astronauts Eugene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt to the Tuff Canyon-Cerro Castolon region of the park. Their moon landing was scheduled for the following winter, and they were visiting various volcanic landscapes on Earth to get better acquainted with the wide range of formations and materials. We spent the longest time at the jumbled mass of lava at the volcanic spine that rises out of the white volcanic ash. Geologist Schmitt was especially intrigued with the flow structure in the spine that looks for all the world like a petrified tree. On December 7 to 19,1972, Cernan and Schmitt made the sixth manned lunar landing and collected 243 pounds of samples. I couldn't help but wonder at the time if those moon rocks reminded them of Big Bend's volcanic samples. M A R C H 26 (1968). Hot Springs was cool and calm this morning when I arrived at 7:00 A.M. A great horned owl was sitting on the picnic table beneath the ancient date palm, but it flew away as I approached. A

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pair of hooded orioles chased one another around the palm. A black phoebe was nest-building on a rafter inside one of the historic motel units. Beyond the old store and motel, several water birds—four blue-winged and two cinnamon teal, a northern shoveler, and an American coot—were feeding in the quiet area of the river. Two killdeer and a spotted sandpiper ran off along the riverbank. I walked downriver on the Hot Springs Trail to the spring site, took some photographs for possible use in my Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River (igyoa), and then returned to my vehicle and left. All the while, house finches were singing their repetitive songs from a number of high points. M A R C H 26 (1970). Ward Spring lies east of the Ross Maxwell Drive on upper Cottonwood Creek at about 4,400 feet elevation along the western escarpment of the Chisos Mountains. I followed Cottonwood Creek up from the highway this morning, recording all the cactus species I encountered. I found eleven species in total: cane cholla, tasajillo, brownspine and purple-tinged pricklypears, brown-flowered and strawberry cacti, Big Bend pitaya, devil's head, and nipple cactus were all reasonably common; I also recorded single specimens of cob and golf-ball cacti. The surprise of the morning was a very early flowering strawberry cactus. This specimen contained about thirty stems that formed a rounded mound fourteen inches high. The dozen or so magenta-colored flowers were busy with insects. By early to midsummer the cactus fruit ripen, and they are delicious. They taste very much like fresh strawberries, from which their name is derived. M A R C H 27 (1967). Dagger Flat was filled with blooming giant daggers today. The conditions apparently were just right for the multitude of blooms, and the fifteen- to twenty-foot-tall yuccas seemed to be at their peak. The four-foot-long leaves were also impressive. Roger Siglin and I wandered about Dagger Flat for a few hours, photographing the largest and the most picturesque individuals. We also discovered a number of the giant dagger moths, insects that are a vital part of the plant's life cycle. The giant yuccas would not reproduce if it were not for a deliberate act of pollination performed by this inchlong moth. The adult female moth frequents the flowering heads of the

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yucca, scraping pollen from the anther by coordinated movements of her head and mouthparts. With the aid of her forelegs, the moth molds the pollen into a ball, which she firmly works into a natural pocket under her head. Usually she visits several stamens and more than one flower before her pollen-gathering impulse subsides. Eventually the female climbs the nearest pistil and inserts one egg through a puncture in the thinnest wall into the young fruit. Immediately following egg laying the female moth usually will climb to the top of the pistil and commence to work the pollen into the stigmatic cavity. She may continue to lay additional eggs in the same pistil or leave to visit another flower. Eggs hatch in about one week, producing one-millimeter-long larvae. The larvae live off the sap at first and later the developing fruit, without injuring the yucca seeds. In about a month the mature larvae emerge from their host and lower themselves to the ground by means of a silken thread. They then burrow into the ground, where each larva forms a firm, ovoid cocoon, consisting of silk, heavily intermixed with soil particles. It is in this stage that the larvae overwinter to pupate out the following spring as adult moths. And so the cycle begins once again.

Canyon Tree frog

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M A R C H 27 (i97o). I found a Louisiana waterthrush at Boquillas Crossing this morning. This sighting was the first for the park, although there have been occasional records since then. My waterthrush was walking along the shoreline, searching for insects, and teetering and bobbing in a characteristic manner. Its long legs, streaked underparts, and broad white eyebrows helped distinguish this eastern warbler. One of the many neotropical migrants that pass through Big Bend National Park in spring and fall, this warbler was undoubtedly en route to nesting grounds somewhere along a mountainous stream to the north. M A R C H 29 (1967). Boot Canyon was calm and warm this afternoon when I arrived for a two-day stay. After discarding my pack in the National Park Service cabin, I descended into the canyon to check the spring flow. Although there was little flowing water, there was a sizable pond standing in the canyon bottom below the little pouroff. I was immediately attracted to the nasal "ah-ah-ah-ah" notes, like a bleating kid goat, of a canyon treefrog that I soon found clinging to the underside of the huge boulder overhanging the spring. Its color blended in very well with the brownish gray rock. On closer examination, I saw that it possessed rough skin, a dark bar below each eye, and yellowish thighs. A truly lovely little amphibian with an outstanding voice. M A R C H 29 (1968). A huge bullsnake blocked the Laguna Meadow Trail this morning. It had eaten recently and seemed fat and content. I decided to pick it up and move it off the trail, so that the horses, which I could hear coming up the trail behind me, would not be spooked. As I reached down to gently pick it up, the bullsnake suddenly came to life, reared back, and struck my hand, just like a rattlesnake. Blood spurted from the wound. The bullsnake, which I estimated at about forty-five to fifty inches long, quickly crawled off the trail into the adjacent grasses. Although I had succeeded in removing the snake, it took me several minutes to stop the bleeding before I continued on up the trail. M A R C H 30 (1967). I found a grand total of five flammulated owls in Boot Canyon this evening after dark. The first pair was located along the trail just above Boot Spring. I sat on a rock in the dark in the middle of the canyon until I heard the first song, a very low "boot." By imitating that sound, I attracted a pair of birds into the oak limbs directly overhead; there

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was enough remaining light in the sky so that they were barely visible when they arrived. As soon as they had settled down, I turned on my bright flashlight and stared up, through my binoculars, at the two birds that were sitting within a few feet of one another. They were disturbed by the light but remained for about two minutes, blinking at the brightness, before they flew off downcanyon. I then progressed upcanyon for about one mile, stopping now and then to listen for additional owl songs. In that distance I recorded three other flammulated owls and two eastern screech-owls. I was not able to call any of the later birds into view. M A R C H 30 (1969). Almost half of the sixty-nine birds found at Rio Grande Village this morning were migrants: great blue heron; cinnamon teal; gadwall; killdeer; common snipe; sora; American coot; lucifer hummingbird; belted kingfisher; northern flicker; Empidonax flycatcher; rubycrowned kinglet; blue-gray gnatcatcher; hermit thrush; brown thrasher; cedar waxwing; orange-crowned, Nashville, black-throated gray, yellowrumped (both Audubon's and myrtle), and black-and-white warblers; common yellowthroat; green-tailed towhee; chipping, Brewer's, clay-colored, vesper, grasshopper, white-crowned, and Lincoln's sparrows; and lark bunting. The northbound rush of neotropical migrants was well under way. M A R C H 31 (1967). This evening as I was approaching the Chisos Basin Amphitheater, where I was going to present a talk on Big Bend's backcountry, a Baird's rat snake crawled across the trail just ahead of me. I immediately picked it up and placed it in a snake bag for later inspection and photographs. It was extremely docile and seemed almost unaware of my presence and of being confined. This was my first experience with this rare snake. The Baird's rat snake (Elaphe obsoleta bairdi) is a mountain grassland species that ranges in size from thirty-three to fifty-four inches and possesses four poorly defined dark stripes on an only slightly lighter background. According to Roger Conant, it was named for "Spencer Fullerton Baird, zoologist and administrator of the Smithsonian Institution during the nineteenth century" (1975: 196). In all the years I have spent at Big Bend, I have seen this snake only twice; it is rare!

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M A R C H 31 (1968). Boot Canyon was overcast, with occasional sprinkles all day. Dr. Fred Gehlbach, biologist from Baylor University, and I had hiked up the previous day. We stayed overnight in the cabin and hiked out via Laguna Meadow the next morning. We recorded a total of thirty-five bird species, but the only obvious migrant was a lone osprey we found circling over Boot Canyon during midmorning. Our most exciting observation occurred in Laguna Meadow, where a sharp-shinned hawk took a spotted towhee that was feeding on the ground about a hundred feet away from where we were standing. The hawk literally pounced on the towhee, covered its prey with its wings to keep it confined, and a few seconds later flew away with what appeared to be an already dead towhee. Although the towhee was almost the same size as the predator, the hawk seemed to have little trouble carrying its prey away to some secluded place to feed. M A R C H 31 (1972). Our party of twenty put in the Rio Grande near Big Canyon, below Black Gap, today for a five-day trip through the Lower Canyons. This trip was a follow-up to the one last September (see September 3 [1971]) and included fourteen members of an official Wild and Scenic River Study Team: Al Kesterke and Bob Mclntosh, Bureau of Outdoor Recreation (BOR); John Vandertulip, U.S. International Boundary and Water Commission; Lorenzo Padilla, Mexico International Boundary and Water Commission, and an additional Mexican representative whose name I have forgotten; Harold Belisle, David Riskind, John Smith, and Ron Thuma of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department; Bob Clark, Texas General Land Office; Dick McHenry, U.S. Forest Service; and Gal Cummings, Bob Morris, and myself, representing the National Park Service. Guides and boatmen included Bob Burleson, leader, John Baker, Harry Burleson, Dick Galland, Dick Phelan, Bob Sims, and Jim Underbill. We visited the same area that we had seen on the earlier trip. A report was then prepared under the direction of the BOR in 1974, finding that "The Rio Grande from river mile 842.3 (the Chihuahua-Coahuila state line, approximately 16 miles upriver from Mariscal Canyon) to river mile 651.1 (the Terrell-Val Verde County line) meets the established criteria for inclusion in the national wild and scenic river system."

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S Five objectives were listed:

1.

Preserve the river in a free-flowing condition except as provided by treaties.

2.

Protect scenic, geologic, fish and wildlife, archaeological, recreational, historical, cultural, scientific, and other similar values along the riverway.

3.

Preserve the essentially primitive character of the river.

4.

Maintain or improve existing water quality.

5.

Provide opportunities for river-oriented recreation which are dependent on the free-flowing condition of the river and which are consistent with the primitive character of the surroundings and do not conflict with other river protection program objectives. The Rio Grande Wild and Scenic River, all 191.2 miles, did not be-

come a reality until 1978. The National Park Service estimates that approximately one thousand river runners now experience the Lower Canyons annually.

APRIL A P R I L 2 (1967). Cliff swallows had arrived at Castolon within the last two or three days; at least fifty were gathering mud from the Alamo Creek drainage and constructing nests under the concrete highway bridge. I stopped to admire these industrious builders while they made trip after trip from the mud to where they were pasting the mudballs, one after the other, onto their growing nests. Within a few short days, each of the retort-shaped structures will hold three to six nestlings. In another two weeks, the nestlings will be fledged and fly-catching with the adults over the adjacent riverway.

Cliff Swallows at Nests

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S A P R I L 2 (1968). The huge stone buildings of the Mariscal Mine

stand like a mighty fortress at the northern end of Mariscal Mountain next to the River Road. NFS regional historian Bill Brown and I spent several hours there today examining the old processing plant, the superintendent's house, and other structures, as well as the historic scene in general. Our visit to the Mariscal Mine was part of a comprehensive survey of all the park's historical remains in developing the park's Historic Resources Management Plan, finalized in December 1968. The systematic process utilized on the survey was most important. We classified each building or series of buildings in one of three categories. Primary resources were exemplary of a theme or a convergence of themes and therefore must be preserved. Secondary resources depended upon their accessibility, evocative setting or appearance, functional use, or richness of story and so should be retained. Tertiary resources generally lacked important historical significance, were redundant interpretively, and would be a drain incommensurate with benefits upon the preservation and protection of the park. Five criteria were utilized: 1.

Is the resource significant or especially interesting in Big Bend history?

2.

Is the site or setting of such integrity as to make it susceptible to interpretation?

3.

Is it accessible?

4.

What are the problems of protection from both a resource management and visitor safety perspective?

5.

What will be the costs? After visiting more than a hundred structures throughout the park,

five sites were listed as primary resources: the Wilson Ranch in Blue Creek, where the park will tell the early ranching history; Castolon, with the U.S. Army structures; Old Castolon, containing the park's oldest buildings; Mariscal Mine, for the mining history; and Hot Springs, with its old store and motel. These five sites will be either restored or maintained as ruins and hereafter be the park's primary sites for historical interpretation. Fifteen secondary sites will be maintained as ruins and interpreted when

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47

Broad-tailed Hummingbird possible. The tertiary sites will be allowed to deteriorate and may eventually be removed. A P R I L 3 (1970). The number of migrants is increasing daily now; Joe Lunn and I found sixty-five species of birds at Rio Grande Village and Boquillas Crossing today, including thirty-seven neotropical migrants: green heron; green-winged, blue-winged, and cinnamon teal; gadwall; northern shoveler; turkey vulture; gray hawk; spotted sandpiper; blackchinned hummingbird; least, cordilleran, and ash-throated flycatchers; western kingbird; violet-green, cliff, and barn swallows; ruby-crowned kinglet; marsh wren; mountain bluebird; Bell's and solitary vireos; orangecrowned, Nashville, yellow-rumped (myrtle), palm, and Wilson's warblers; northern parula; green-tailed towhee; clay-colored, vesper, savannah, and swamp sparrows; great-tailed grackle; Bullock's and hooded orioles; and American goldfinch. The gray hawk, found soaring low over the Rio Grande at Boquillas Crossing, was the first record of this tropical raptor for the park. Years later, during the first half of the iggos, it began to nest regularly at Rio Grande Village. The green-tailed towhee was actually singing from a high perch at

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Rio Grande Village; this was the first and only time I have heard this bird of the western mountains singing in the park. A P R I L 5 (1969). Blue Creek Canyon was clear but hazy this morning as I birded my way upcanyon. I planned to examine and photograph Cedar Spring, approximately four miles above the ranch house (actually a line camp on the rather extensive Wilson Ranch), as part of an ongoing spring survey (see November 26 [1967] for information about the Big Bend National Park spring survey). Cedar Spring had been developed and piped to a small holding tank on the north wall of the house by rancher Homer Wilson in the mid-i930s. He had built a rather attractive rock wall below the spring and had made considerable efforts to supply his ranch hands with adequate drinking water. Although the pipeline had long since rusted away, the spring flow still produced approximately one gallon per minute, and it was flowing for about fifteen feet. Wildlife sign was all around the spring. I had frightened away a bandtailed pigeon when I first arrived. A common raven flew overhead, cawing at me for interfering with its business. Deer and javelina tracks were commonplace in the wet ground, and several songbirds were evident in the adjacent vegetation. A P R I L 8 (1969). A number of summer resident birds have begun to arrive in the park, and there also is a noticeable decline in winter residents. This morning at Rio Grande Village, I found that summer tanagers had returned and were actively chasing one another about the campground; their loud trills are commonplace now. Other new arrivals include the turkey vulture, black-chinned hummingbird, ash-throated flycatcher, Bell's vireo, brown-headed cowbird, and hooded and Bullock's orioles. I also found a lone long-billed curlew along the river below the Daniel Ranch; this was my first sighting of this large shorebird in the park. It is amazing what can occur during migration! Here is a bird that winters on the Texas coastal plains, yet it suddenly appears at Big Bend National Park. The Rio Grande corridor undoubtedly is a significant influence on migrants, many of which seem to get off-track and follow the riverway as an alternate route northward.

Springtime cactus blooms can be spectacular some years.

Aerial view of the northern panhandle of Big Bend National Park. Persimmon Gap is located near the center.

Aerial view of the Sierra del Garment, with a section of the Rio Grande, below Boquillas Canyon, in the foreground.

Javelinas in brushy arroyo.

This drowned Mountain Lion was discovered in Ernst Tinaja, a natural tank off the Old Ore Road.

Working wax plant at Glenn Spring in igij. Courtesy of Photography Collection, Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center, University of Texas at Austin.

The ruins of the Mariscal Mine, one of the park's most important historic sites, on the northern edge of Mariscal Mountain.

Devil's Den is a narrow slit carved by water in the limestone bedrock of the northern portion of the Dead Horse Mountains.

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A P R I L 8 (1970). The Mexican boys who operate the boat at Boquillas Crossing have hacked out a trail through the dense riparian vegetation for me. Although the trail entrance is pretty well hidden from view, once inside it is possible to walk upright through the otherwise impenetrable thicket. This trail goes downriver to below the historic Barker House, where Joe Marshall found a mixed pair of eastern and western screech-owls with grown young in July 1962 (Marshall 1967). Both species were still present in this area, as well as all along the Rio Grande and into the Chisos Mountains. Today along my "secret" trail, Noberto Ortega and I recorded the first Lucy's warbler for the park. It was present again on April 17 and was collected (Wauer 1973). These sightings were the first of a long series of reports that finally culminated in finding nesting Lucy's warblers at Cottonwood Campground in 1986. Since then it has become a regular member of the park's breeding avifauna. A P R I L 10 (1968). Today I accompanied Dr. Barton Warnock, botanist at Sul Ross State University in Alpine, on a plant-collecting trip to Fresno Creek. It was a wonderful opportunity to learn about some of the desert plants from an authority. The Fresno Creek drainage lies between the northern end of Mariscal Mountain and Talley Mountain and flows southeast from the vicinity of Elephant Tusk toward the Rio Grande. Typical plants found along Fresno Creek included creosotebush, ocotillo, Torrey and soaptree yuccas, Texas persimmon, desert olive, allthorn, desert hackberry, agarito, and several acacias. Allthorn was of particular interest, as I had never before seen such robust plants as those along Fresno Creek. In places they formed dense thickets. Wildlife utilize this plant as protective cover. Well named, this leafless, evergreen shrub possesses hundreds of sharp-pointed green branchlets that resemble long thorns. Tiny cream-colored flowers appear in lateral clusters in the spring. A P R I L 10 (1971). My first Colima warbler of the year was singing among the oaks in Boot Canyon. It was easy to find in the relatively bare trees, and I watched it searching the few new buds and leaves for food. In three hours of birding Boot Canyon, it was the only Colima I could find.

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Allthorn and Verdin

The late winter and early spring months had been extremely dry this year (only a tenth of an inch had been recorded in the Chisos Basin since January i), and summer residents and migrants were less numerous than they usually are during normal years. I also found a singing painted redstart in Boot Canyon. This lovely creature is only an occasional nester in Boot Canyon, and I wondered why it should appear during this very dry year. It is a common breeding bird in the conifer forests of Mexico's Maderas del Carmen, fifty miles southeast of the Chisos Mountains. Perhaps painted redstarts utilize the Chisos Mountain woodlands during years when dominant pairs require larger than normal territories in the Maderas del Carmen, forcing subordinate birds to find adequate breeding grounds elsewhere. A P R I L 11 (1969). I sat at the Old Ranch today for three hours (10:30 A.M. to 1:30 P.M.), documenting every bird species that put in an appearance. Although the dominant Goodding willows and pecan trees were not fully leafed out yet, the area still attracted a number of migrants. I recorded a total of sixteen bird species, including six migrants: cedar waxwing; Nashville, yellow-rumped, and Wilson's warblers; and chipping and white-crowned sparrows. The remainder were either full-time residents (black-tailed gnatcatcher, verdin, northern mockingbird, and house

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finch) or summer residents (turkey vulture, white-winged dove, blackchinned hummingbird, ash-throated flycatcher, Bell's vireo, and lesser goldfinch). A P R I L 11 (1970). An all-day hike to Boot Spring via the Pinnacles and a return through Laguna Meadow produced a total of thirty-two bird species, including two Colima warblers. It is still fairly early for most of the spring migrants in the highlands. But some of the full-time mountain birds have begun courtship and/or nesting: Hutton's vireos were extremely vocal in the pinyon-juniper woodlands above the Chisos Basin; black-chinned sparrows were actively singing along the western slope of Casa Grande; a pair of bushtits were building a nest on a juniper at Laguna; and a crissal thrasher was singing from the top of a mountain mahogany shrub there, as well. A P R I L 14 (1967). Cattail Falls is one of the park's most fragile and beautiful spots. The waterfall is seldom more than a steady trickle, but the base of the waterfall and the immediate surroundings support a lush, greenhouse-like assortment of vegetation. Longspur columbines and cardinal flowers grow amid the green mosses and ferns, and I found a few stream orchises along the flowing creekbed. A canopy of oaks, netleaf hackberry, and Texas buckeye protects the scene from the hot afternoon sunshine. The trail was already hot by the time I arrived at midday, but when I ducked into the dim greenery, the temperature must have been twenty degrees cooler. I sat below the waterfall and prepared to eat lunch. Almost immediately a pair of blue-throated hummingbirds flew to the waterfall; they probably had been there all along but had moved away when I arrived. Apparently knowing that I was not a threat, they resumed their activity. For the next hour I watched them catching tiny flies that were attracted to the dripping water. Every now and then one of the blue-throats would go to one of the adjacent flowers to sip the sweet nectar, but they spent the majority of their time fly-catching at the waterfall. All the while, they emitted occasional, loud "seep" notes. The male hummingbird was most colorful, with its bright blue throat, black cheeks surrounded with white, green back, and black tail with bold white corners. The female lacked the blue throat, but its large size and simi-

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lar tail pattern were readily apparent. It was a lovely lunch hour at Cattail Falls. A P R I L 15 (1969). Glenn Spring on this early spring morning possessed a certain calmness that belied the bustling scenes that once occurred there. I spent several hours wandering around the deserted area with several photographs that had been taken during the Glenn Spring heyday. I managed to locate the remains of the five-room Ellis house, the old store, the post office, and the candelilla wax plant, all destroyed or damaged during the May 5,1916, Mexican bandit attack; four U.S. soldiers and the storekeeper's son were killed. I also located where the Eighth and Fourteenth Cavalries had lived and corralled their horses afterward; they remained until August 1920. But the scene today was more like that described by Herbert Brandt in his book Texas Bird Adventures, when he and his wife stayed there with Aaron A. Green in 1937: Glenn Spring proved to be a small scattered hamlet of adobe buildings now all deserted except for the Green Ranch headquarters, which was a spacious, delightful, adobe building of large proportions. Especially comfortable and relatively cool was the large, screened-in veranda, to which, happily, we were assigned. The irrigated green lawn was surrounded by magnificent flowering bushes; some of the oleander trees were twenty feet tall and ablaze with crowded pink blooms to which a Hummingbird zoomed intermittently. (1940: 45-46)

A P R I L 15 (1972). This morning at Rio Grande Village I discovered a pair of eastern bluebirds feeding four spotted youngsters. This was the first and only nesting record of this species for the park. The only other nesting reports for the Trans-Pecos are more recent ones from the Davis Mountains, according to the Checklist of the Birds of Texas (Texas Bird Records Committee 1995). Why this lovely bird, previously known to nest only in the eastern half of Texas, should suddenly appear in Big Bend National Park is one of the great mysteries of bird behavior. A P R I L 16 (1968). I left my vehicle along the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive and slowly walked up the gradual slope toward Gano Spring, evident by a tall cottonwood snag about a mile east of the highway. A park visitor had recently reported a "beautiful cactus without spines and bright orangeyellow flowers" just below Gano Spring. I hoped to locate this unusual

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plant. It took me more than an hour to find what I believed to be the same specimen. I eventually identified this marvelous cactus as Echinocereus ctenoides. It must have been transplanted near Gano Spring by earlier residents. It is not known to occur in the Big Bend country; its natural range is to the southeast near Laredo in the United States and south into adjacent Mexico. The surprise of the day occurred as I was walking back to my vehicle. I was suddenly almost overwhelmed by an extremely sweet odor. Looking about, I could not see any flower that might produce such a wonderful aroma. I began to make short circles, trying to pinpoint the source. Several minutes later I discovered a night-blooming cactus flower atop a short, square stem. Already partly closed for the day, it gave off such a fantastic aroma that I had been able to detect it from more than fifty feet away. It was the first (and last) night-blooming cactus that I have found in the park. I understood that I was seeing only a small part of the plant, that the huge root might be two feet in diameter and weigh up to 125 pounds. But the incredibly wonderful aroma of the single flower was hardly believable. A P R I L 17 (1969). Temperatures along the River Road were pleasant during the early-morning hours, but it was hot by late morning. I drove this route, east to west today, in the process of developing my Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River, which was published by the Big Bend Natural History Association in 1970.1 stopped at all the key sites along the route, measuring distances and taking pertinent photographs. This fifty-one-mile route, from lower Tornillo Creek to Castolon, includes several fascinating historic sites along the way: Gravel Pit, La Clocha, San Vicente and San Vicente Crossing, Rooneys Place, Compton's, Solis, Mariscal Mine, Talley, and Johnson Ranch. I also recorded a total of forty-nine bird species along the route, including a pair of burrowing owls sitting at their burrow near the Loop Camp turnoff. As soon as I saw these birds I immediately stopped my vehicle at a point where I could observe them. They appeared extremely nervous. One individual immediately entered the burrow, and the second owl remained at the entrance, watching me intently. After several minutes I approached to about fifty feet from the burrow, hoping to photograph the bird

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for documentation. But the lone sentinel flew off, calling sharp "cack-cackcack" notes. I photographed only the nest site and decided I had better leave instead of aggravating the birds any further. This was the first and only nesting record of this little owl in the park. A P R I L 17 (1970). During five hours this morning at Rio Grande Village, I netted and banded a total of thirty-five birds of twelve species: two western wood-pewees, two Bell's vireos, two orange-crowned warblers, one yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warbler, three common yellowthroats, one MacGillivray's warbler, thirteen Wilson's warblers, five yellow-breasted chats, one summer tanager, one chipping sparrow, three Lincoln's sparrows, and one northern cardinal. I also captured and released a female cardinal that I had banded the previous summer. The day's most exciting find, however, was discovering my old friend, the banded black-vented oriole, which had returned to its old haunts (see July 4 [1969]). This oriole was to frequent the same area throughout the summer and at least until October 10. As during the previous summer, hundreds of birders were able to observe this out-of-range tropical oriole. A P R I L 17 (1990). This morning I censused the bird life in upper Green Gulch. The seven-year (1990-1997) project is intended to establish breeding bird population baselines in key habitats throughout the park. My Green Gulch study plot included a one-mile walking route, starting at the bottom of Pulliam Ridge and ending at the third utility pole below the top of the ridge between Green Gulch and the Chisos Basin, and 407 feet on each side of the centerline (814 feet total), a plot of 100 acres. Slowly walking along a centerline and recording all the birds detected on a field sheet, I tallied eighty-six individuals of thirty species. Two additional surveys were run on the same plot on May 2, 1991, and April 29, 1992. The three surveys produced a comprehensive total of fifty-five species. The final computations produced a nesting population of 204 individuals of 36 species, with canyon towhees, rufous-crowned sparrows, and bushtits contributing 33 percent of the total population. White-winged doves, ash-throated flycatchers, Bewick's wrens, and house finches were also found in moderate numbers (fewer than ten). The additional twenty-

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nine nesters were less numerous. During April and May 1990 to 1995, I sampled a total of five loo-acre study plots three to five times each: Dugout Wells, lower Green Gulch, lower Pine Canyon, upper Green Gulch, and middle Pine Canyon (high to low elevations). I submitted reports to the National Park Service on these five surveys (Wauer 1994,1995). I found a grand total of fifty-six species nesting on the five plots, but only five species—ladder-backed woodpecker, ash-throated flycatcher, cactus wren, Scott's oriole, and house finch—occurred on all five plots. Eleven species were detected on four of the five plots: mourning dove, Say's phoebe, rock and Bewick's wrens, northern mockingbird, black-headed grosbeak, spotted and canyon towhees, rufous-crowned and black-chinned sparrows, and brown-headed cowbird. Fourteen species were found exclusively on one of the five plots: lesser nighthawk, loggerhead shrike, yellowbreasted chat, and painted bunting on the Dugout plot; elf owl and Cassin's sparrow in lower Green Gulch; no exclusives in lower Pine Canyon; crissal thrasher and summer tanager in upper Green Gulch; and band-tailed pigeon, blue-throated hummingbird, northern (red-shafted) flicker, whitebreasted nuthatch, Hutton's vireo, and Colima warbler in middle Pine Canyon. A P R I L 18 (1972). Although the total number of bird species found at Rio Grande Village this morning (fifty-two) was less than normal for this time of year, at least one of them was of special interest. I had a great look at a male mourning warbler in the dense vegetation at the entrance to the nature trail. It was in bright breeding plumage, with an all slate-gray head, a bit of black mottling on the chest, yellow underparts and back, and no eye ring. This was the first-ever record for the park. Mourning warblers are neotropical migrants that winter in Central America and northwestern South America. They nest in shrubby undergrowth in a wide band across Canada and the northeastern United States from British Columbia to New England and Newfoundland. A P R I L 20 (1967). Finding a purple gallinule walking along the edge of the pond near the Rio Grande Village campground was totally unexpected. It was a brightly colored adult with a purplish-blue head and underparts, greenish back, red bill with a yellow tip, bright red frontal shield,

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and yellow legs. A wonderful bird! It represented not only the first record for the park but a brand-new bird for my life list as well. It apparently remained for several days, as I found it at the same pond again on April 25 and May i.

A P R I L 22 (1975). Today's hike into Cattail Falls was my first visit there in several years, and I was amazed at the obvious degradation of this fragile site. Although the columbines and cardinal flowers at the base of the falls were still present, there was far too much bare ground along the stream. The stream orchis appeared to be entirely stamped out. I later wrote a note to Superintendent Joe Carithers expressing my opinion that if Cattail Falls is going to be saved, then the entrance road needs to be closed in an appropriate place one or two miles below Oak Creek. Visitor impact to a site is inversely proportionate to the distance required to hike to it. This closure did not occur until 1984. A P R I L 23 (1990). I had arrived in the park the previous evening, camped overnight at Rio Grande Village, and during the morning recorded seventy-two species of birds. My visit to the park coincided with my Big Bend Natural History Association Bird Ecology Seminar, scheduled a few days later. Spring migration was well under way. Obvious northbound birds included osprey; Swainson's hawk; spotted sandpiper; belted kingfisher; olive-sided and Empidonax flycatchers; barn swallow; rubycrowned kinglet; brown thrasher; cedar waxwing; orange-crowned, Nashville, yellow-rumped (Audubon's and myrtle), and yellow warblers; chipping, vesper, lark, savannah, Lincoln's, and white-crowned sparrows; lark bunting; chestnut-collared longspur; red-winged and Brewer's blackbirds; and Bullock's oriole. The most unusual of all these was the chestnut-collared longspur that I found along the roadway between the store and the Daniel Ranch. I took several photographs of this rather dull-plumaged bird; it was still in partial winter plumage. This longspur nests in the grasslands in the north-central states and adjacent Canada and winters to the south in open fields and pastures from Arizona to Oklahoma and Texas; it is rare in southwest Texas and Mexico. A P R I L 24 (1975). I was asked to spend the day with the National Audubon Society's board of directors. They had scheduled a meeting at

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the park and also planned to visit all the key sites and see as many birds as possible. At the start of the day I had asked each individual for a list of his or her most-wanted birds that might be possible at Big Bend. With that list in mind, we set out to find all of those species. Many were relatively easy. Everyone saw vermilion flycatchers at Rio Grande Village; a lucifer hummingbird at Panther Junction; verdins, a crissal thrasher, and varied buntings at the Old Ranch; and so forth. Arriving at Santa Elena Canyon in the late afternoon, we still had not seen a zone-tailed hawk or a peregrine falcon, and Roland Clement reminded me of this fact. I was just about to explain that Santa Elena Canyon is a good place to see both of these birds when a zone-tail suddenly appeared, flying almost directly overhead; I pointed it out immediately to Roland. As we all stared at this vulturelike hawk, Elvis Starr reminded me that he had still not seen a peregrine falcon. As luck would have it, within seconds a peregrine suddenly appeared, as if on cue, out of the canyon. I was able to claim it as a staged bird as well. Circumstances sometimes have a way of producing desired birds at the most appropriate time. A P R I L 25 (1975). David Riskind, friend and colleague with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, and I spent the morning in Pine Canyon, attempting to assess the success of the Montezuma quail restoration program (see January 4 [1973]). We found only five birds during our search, but two of them were singing and appeared to be on territory. A few days later, I discovered two additional singing males in upper Boot Canyon. The presence of four territorial birds suggested success, but since then there have been no additional valid reports (see February 11 [1977]). A P R I L 25 (1990). Cottonwood Campground was much different today than it was the last time I visited the area fifteen years earlier. The trees were taller and mature now, and the bird life had increased substantially as well. One of the most exciting birds in 1990 was the thick-billed kingbird. Park records indicate that it had been seen there regularly each summer since 1988, and it nested in 1990 and 1991. This is a Mexican bird whose breeding grounds barely reach into the United States in southern Arizona, extreme southwestern New Mexico, and now the Texas Big Bend country. I also found at least three singing Lucy's warblers (at least one of these

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Zone-tailed Hawk hi Santa Elena Can\on

was paired) among the mesquites along the western and northern edges of the campground. Park records indicate that it has nested there annually since 1986. For details about its eastward range expansion from the western deserts, see April 8 (1970). It will be interesting to see how long it will be before this warbler begins to nest in the Rio Grande Village area and if it eventually is able to find its way along the Rio Grande into South Texas. A P R I L 26 (1994). Before sunup today at Dugout Wells, I began a

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mile-long bird population survey (see April 17 [1990] for details). The walking route took me directly north across the open desert and two flowing arroyos, following the same methods described on April 17,1990. The census was completed by about 9:30 A.M., about the time many of the breeding birds became less active. I recorded a total of 218 individuals of 32 species. This same transect was repeated two days later and again on May 3 and 5, providing a grand total of forty-five species. Only twenty-three of them were considered breeders, however; the remainder were migrants or transients from nearby areas. The final computations revealed that the Dugout study plot supported 285 individuals, with northern mockingbirds being most numerous (52), followed by black-throated sparrows (41) and verdins (31), comprising 43.5 percent of the total population. Scaled quail, ash-throated flycatchers, black-tailed gnatcatchers, Bell's vireos, pyrrhuloxias, varied buntings, and brown-headed cowbirds were found in moderate numbers (fewer than ten). Twelve species were less numerous (Wauer 1995). A P R I L 26 (1995). Hannold Draw still hasn't recovered to what it was like in 1908, when Curtis Lloyd Hannold and his wife, Nina Marie, settled there. When Nina Marie died in 1911, she asked to be "buried on the hill overlooking the spring where she had taught her children to swim." But the overstocked range of the 19405 dried the spring flow and eliminated the remaining cottonwoods and willows. Today, however, Hannold Draw runs for a quarter-mile or more, and the native vegetation has made a remarkable recovery. Even in 1995, following a three-year drought, it is a virtual oasis. Although there is very little open water anywhere above the Rio Grande, the bright green line of the Hannold Draw cottonwoods and willows beckons neotropical migrants. This evening, in less than two hours, I found thirteen migrants among the greenery. Yellow-rumped and Wilson's warblers were most numerous, but smaller numbers of MacGillivray's and Townsend's warblers, chipping and clay-colored sparrows, barn swallows, green-tailed towhees, and pine siskins were also present. I also found a lone lazuli bunting, painted bunting, blue grosbeak, and Bullock's oriole. Bell's vireos and yellow-breasted chats were on territory and singing

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loudly. A pair of black phoebes had also found Hannold Draw, and from their constant singing I imagine they had taken up residence and were nesting somewhere along the draw. Dozens of house finches and several mourning doves came to water before retiring for the night. As the last of the evening bird songs echoed across the desert, mule deer began to appear, coming to drink from the spring flow that Nina Marie Hannold once loved so much. A P R I L 27 (1969). The Chisos Basin was extremely birdy this morning. In five hours of birding the campground and vicinity, the area around the lodge and cabins, and the surrounding pinyon-juniper woodlands, I recorded a total of fifty-two species. I later used this example of my best birding day in the Basin in my Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend (1996). Seventeen of the fifty-two species were migrants, only passing through the park, fifteen species were summer residents only, and twenty were full-time residents. A P R I L 27 (1971). I worked the visitor center desk at Panther Junction today, talking with dozens of visitors about an amazing variety of topics. Two of those visitors, Forest and Aline Romero, reported a prothonotary warbler among the pinyon pines in the Chisos Basin. However, since this all-yellow warbler nests only in southern wetlands and northbound migrants normally occur only in the Gulf Coast lowlands, I questioned these folks carefully about their report. They certainly seemed to know prothonotary warblers, and I couldn't shake their certainty. Toward the end of our conversation they remarked, almost on the side, that they also had photographed the bird. They soon agreed to send me a photograph to document this unlikely species. Although I remained skeptical, a few weeks later I received an excellent slide of a prothonotary warbler perched in a pinyon pine. The slide was so good that I was even able to identify the pine as a Mexican pinyon, a species found only in Mexico and West Texas. A P R I L 28 (1969). My oriole has returned! I found a black-vented oriole at Rio Grande Village today, presumably the same bird that I had seen there on September 18,1968.1 watched it chasing about with six other orioles: an adult female and an immature male hooded oriole, and two female, one adult, and one immature male orchard orioles. It seemed to be in

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close association with the immature male hooded oriole, which looked very much like the female black-vented oriole illustrated in George M. Button's book Mexican Birds—First Impressions (1951), and I thought at first that it was its mate. However, I later learned that this species is monomorphic (having a single color pattern). For additional details about this tropical bird, see May 1 (1969) and July 4 (1969). A P R I L 28 (1990). Today is the first day of a three-day bird ecology seminar that I am conducting for the Big Bend Natural History Association. I met the twelve participants at the group campground in the Chisos Basin this morning, and then we all drove to Blue Creek Canyon, the first of seven localities I planned to visit. Other places birded during the seminar included Cottonwood Campground, the Old Ranch, Laguna Meadow and Boot Canyon, Rio Grande Village, and Dugout Wells. The seminar is designed to visit all the park's principal habitats—river floodplain, cottonwood groves, desert, grassland, and mountain woodlands—and to experience the bird life of each. The seminar ended at Dugout Wells after lunch on the third day, when we tabulated our total list. The 1990 list included 138 species. I have conducted a repeat seminar every year since, during three days at the end of April and first of May. Participants pay the Big Bend Natural History Association $120 each, and, as leader, I receive $450. Later seminar groups tallied 114 bird species in 1991, 94 in 1992, ill in 1993,107 in 1994, 117 in 1995, and 125 in 1996. In seven years, seminar participants have seen a grand total of 189 species; 77 of these were recorded at all seven seminars. A P R I L 30 (1969). I found my first hooded warbler in the park this morning in Pine Canyon. It was a gorgeous male with a striking black-andyellow head pattern. I watched it for several minutes as it walked along the base of the high pouroff that was only dripping water. The bird had found a moist niche, apparently with plenty of insects, because it continued feeding all the while I was sitting on a rock about fifty feet away, admiring its colorful plumage and striking behavior. On several occasions it opened and spread its black-and-white tail in a flashing manner, probably to startle any hiding insects into making a dash for it. Also at the dripping water that morning were a pair of blue-throated

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hummingbirds and a single male magnificent hummingbird. All three of these large hummers were fly-catching along the high rock pouroff. They spent considerable time flying up and down the cliff face in search of insects that apparently were attracted to the available water. A P R I L 30 (1992). On my way to meet my seminar group in the Chisos Basin this morning at dawn, I encountered a mountain lion. It was lying in the roadside ditch in upper Green Gulch, just above the upper paved pull-out, eating what appeared to be a cottontail. I slowed down as soon as I saw its bright eyes reflected in my headlights, but I continued driving very slowly but steadily as I passed, trying not to disturb it. It seemed to totally ignore me, but when I turned around at the little dirt pullon0 below the sharp curve and drove back to take a better look, it had disappeared. A P R I L 30 (1993). This afternoon at Rio Grande Village, I was suddenly attacked by a male Cooper's hawk. Screaming in defiance, he flew at me three times before I moved out of his territory. Such actions signify nesting, but Cooper's hawks had never before been found to nest in the park. I stood in the shade of an adjacent cottonwood tree, watching the hawk to see if he would lead me to a nest. He was perched on a nearby cottonwood, watching me watch him. Sure enough, in a few minutes he flew in a wide circle and then went to a nest in a cottonwood directly over the area where I had first been attacked. Through binoculars I could see a female Cooper's hawk peeking over the edge of the nest. He settled down on a branch ten or twelve feet from the nest but kept watching me all the while. I watched these birds off and on for another hour and even managed to take several photographs of the nest and the aggressive male. I visited the nest site again on May 2, but I was unable to determine the eventual success of the nest. However, I discovered a second Cooper's hawk nest at Cottonwood Campground on May 2, although as far I could tell, only a single female was present. Later I learned that Bill and Sarah Bourbon, local residents, had found a pair nest-building at Cottonwood Campground (presumably the same nest) several days earlier.

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The sudden appearance of two pairs of nesting Cooper's hawks in the park is fascinating. It could be the result of habitat destruction elsewhere, the natural recovery of the Rio Grande floodplain habitat so that the species is able to reclaim a long-unused habitat, a paradox of nature, or all of the above.

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MAY MAY 1 (1969). I found the black-vented oriole again this morning at Rio Grande Village. It was in the same location and appeared to be associated with the same six orioles it had been with four days earlier. Ty and Julie Hotchkiss had also found the oriole. They were camped nearby and were filming a show on the Rio Grande for the National Audubon Society Nature Films; they later toured the country with their production. During the next several days, they took extensive footage with i6mm movie film and numerous color slides of the bird. I later used one of those slides in an article I published in the ornithological journal The Auk (Wauer

Colima Warbler on Emory Oak

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I contacted a few birding friends who in turn let their friends know about the oriole. Word spread in a hurry. During the next five months more than five hundred birders visited Rio Grande Village to see this new bird for the United States. It was banded on July 4, and it remained in the vicinity at least until September 19, about one year after the original date of discovery. In 1970,1 found it again at the same locality on April 17; it stayed until at least October 10. M A Y 1 (1970). I accompanied Earl Greene to Rio Grande Village this morning to see the black-vented oriole; the bird became Earl's six hundredth North American "lifer." We found a total of seventy-five bird species during the morning, including a high number of warblers: Virginia's, yellow, Townsend's, yellow-rumped (both Audubon's and myrtle), black-andwhite, MacGillivray's, hooded, and Wilson's warblers, as well as common yellowthroat and yellow-breasted chat. All are neotropical migrants. MAY i (1994). My bird ecology seminar group was extremely fortunate this morning; we all had good looks at a singing tropical parula at Rio Grande Village. This out-of-range bird had been found the previous day by Alan Wormington, and my group, while following the singing parula, encountered Alan, Greg and Cheryl Lasley, Brad McKinney, and Mike Pawlick, who also were following the bird for photographs; Greg took several slides and tape-recorded its song. Although this tropical warbler had been reported in the park on a few earlier occasions, this was the first documented sighting. MAY 2 (1991). I encountered a black bear sow and at least one cub this morning in Green Gulch at the corner of Pulliam Ridge, just below the confluence of Maple Canyon and Green Gulch. I had just completed a bird population survey and was returning to my vehicle when I heard the cub's loud cries just ahead of me. Knowing that a sow with cubs can be very aggressive, instead of continuing on and, perhaps, surprising them, I worked my way onto a high point closer to the roadway that offered a better view of the drainage. The cub continued to cry out, and I could see movement in the bottom of the creekbed. Then all was silent. Apparently the sow had detected my presence and had quieted the cub. A few minutes

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later, I observed a dark object moving down the drainage and out of sight. See November 18 (1994) for later details about Big Bend's bear population. MAY 2 (1993). Late this afternoon I slowly drove the three miles between Panther Junction and the Basin Junction, watching for deer along both sides of the highway. During the early 19705,1 consistently found a dozen or more mule deer along this route at this time of day. But during the last few years, I had not seen any deer in this area, and I decided to check the area more carefully. In two hours of "cruising" this route, I did not see a single deer. Mule deer populations appear to be at a much reduced level throughout the park lowlands. Although all wildlife populations are cyclic, I believe that the low number of mule deer is directly related to the large number of area mountain lions in recent years. It will be interesting to see if, during the next several years, there will be a decline in lions and a subsequent increase in mule deer. MAY 2 (1994). Rain had fallen last night throughout the Chisos Mountains. The Pine Canyon pouroff had changed overnight from the dry cliff face that I had observed on April 24 to a lovely waterfall. Dozens of butterflies and birds were taking advantage of the available water to drink, shower, and, apparently, simply congregate. During two hours that I sat below the falls this morning, I observed five species of butterflies and sixteen bird species visiting the waterfall. Acorn woodpeckers were the most numerous of the resident birds. They seemed to be having a wonderful time. I counted eight individuals flying back and forth from adjacent trees, and several times they bathed in the fresh, flowing water while clinging to the cliff. Mexican jays were present as well, but these birds seemed disturbed at my presence and stayed at the water only for very brief periods before flying away with sharp scolding calls. A pair of black-headed grosbeaks flew in together, remained for about ten minutes, and then departed together. A lone common raven flew by, circled the upper cliff, and then flew off with a loud cawing; apparently my presence kept it from coming closer. All the while, a lone band-tailed pigeon sat at the clifftop, apparently waiting for me to leave. The majority of the birds that morning were much smaller than the

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woodpeckers, jays, grosbeaks, ravens, and pigeons: Colima, yellowrumped, and MacGillivray's warblers; a lone Say's phoebe fly-catching near the top of the falls; a pair of tufted titmice; pine siskins; white-throated swifts; and blue-throated, magnificent, and broad-tailed hummingbirds. A pair of canyon wrens landed below the falls and sampled the outer drops. At least three blue-throated hummingbirds were present all during my stay, flying about the wet cliff face, picking tiny insects out of the air, and chasing each other. On one occasion, a male blue-throat actually bathed on a tiny wet perch. Six or seven white-throated swifts flew through the spray every few minutes. Sometimes these fast-flying birds approached from the side, but other times they approached straight on, doing a roll in the drips and following them downward with much twittering. Two swifts spent considerable time apparently feeding along the cliff face, darting in and out of ledges and overhangs. The pine siskins came to the falls in a flock of about thirty individuals; they perched on the wet walls to drink and bathe. All the birds at the Pine Canyon waterfall seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. MAY 3 (1970). This week is undoubtedly the high point of the spring migration; I recorded ninety-three bird species this morning at Rio Grande Village. All these birds are listed in my book A Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend (1996) as examples of spring migration. The majority (sixty-four) of these were neotropical migrants, en route no doubt to their breeding grounds to the north. By late morning I had set up a series of mist nets along the eastern edge of the campground, where I banded birds during the remainder of the day. I managed to net, band, and release a total of thirty-five individual birds of fourteen species: one Nashville warbler, one northern parula, five yellow warblers, three MacGillivray's warblers, three common yellowthroats, two northern waterthrushes, four Wilson's warblers, three yellow-breasted chats, one summer tanager, five painted buntings, one swamp sparrow, two Lincoln's sparrows, three orchard orioles, and one hooded oriole. The two waterthrushes were especially interesting, because except for the two captured in the mist net, I did not detect any others. MAY 3 (1995)- The Old Ranch, often referred to as the Sam Nail

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Ranch, is unquestionably one of Big Bend's best attractants for neotropical migrants. Especially during dry seasons, the Old Ranch is one of the few places along the western flank of the Chisos Mountains with a continuous water supply. The abundant Goodding willows and introduced pecan and Chinese tallow trees serve as beacons to northbound migrants. Although Cottonwood Creek behind the Old Ranch once held a significant stream, and a perennial flow occurs there during wet years, in dry years the entire above-ground flow is limited to that produced by a working windmill at the Old Ranch. The thirty- to sixty-foot flow, depending on the amount of wind, provides plenty of drinking water and shallow pools for bathing birds. One can sit at a bench in the shade of the willows and walnuts and watch the comings and goings of the abundant resident and migrant birds. The first week of May can produce truly unusual sightings. Over the years, I discovered that late morning is the best time of day. The migrants are busy feeding during the earlier morning hours, but by midmorning they are ready for a break, a drink of water, and, for many individuals, a bath in the shallow, cool waters. They seem to congregate there, staying for a few minutes to several hours or more. Today, in two hours (10:30 A.M. to 12:30 P.M.) I observed four bird species considered rare or casual in the park—white-eyed and Philadelphia vireos and blackpoll and Canada warblers—and an additional thirty species of lesser significance. Twenty-six of the thirty-four were neotropical migrants. The additional neotropical migrants included black-chinned hummingbird; ash-throated flycatcher; blue-gray gnatcatcher; hermit thrush; Bell's vireo; Nashville, yellow-rumped (Audubon's), Townsend's, MacGillivray's, and Wilson's warblers; yellow-breasted chat; summer tanager; varied and painted buntings; green-tailed towhee; chipping, claycolored, Brewer's, swamp, and Lincoln's sparrows; blue grosbeak; and Bullock's oriole. Nine of the twenty-six neotropical migrants may remain in the park to nest: black-chinned hummingbird, ash-throated flycatcher, blue-gray gnatcatcher, Bell's vireo, yellow-breasted chat, summer tanager, varied bunting, blue grosbeak, and Bullock's oriole. The additional eight species recorded during my two-hour vigil were full-time park residents: white-winged and mourning doves; ladder-backed

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woodpecker; verdin; northern mockingbird; spotted towhee; pyrrhuloxia; and northern cardinal. MAY 3 (1967). The lone worm-eating warbler I found today in upper Boot Canyon was most memorable, as I had never before heard its marvelous song. To this day, whenever I hear the song of the worm-eating warbler, even on its typical nesting grounds in the Great Smoky Mountains, I cannot help but recall that first song in upper Boot Canyon. I heard it singing from a considerable distance, and I slowly worked my way up the drainage to where I was able to watch it foraging among the oaks; every few minutes it put its head back and sang. Its song was a rather monotonous trill, somewhat like that of a chipping sparrow, but sweeter and less rattling. MAY 4 (1996). My one and only close encounter with a bear occurred during one of my Big Bend seminars. It began while my group was eating lunch at the picnic table at Boot Spring. Three hikers came out of the canyon and, in passing, told us that they had just seen a bear in the canyon only a hundred yards away. We immediately left our partially eaten lunch and, with binoculars and cameras at the ready, hurried down the trail in search of the bear. We found it lying on the slope across the canyon, seemingly asleep, with its head partially concealed under a fallen tree. It may have been eating ants or whatever else an omnivorous creature could find in such a place. But with our "wows" and "awks," it eventually looked up and growled at us, obviously disturbed by our attention. After several minutes of photographs through the leafy cover, we left it pretty much where it had been when we first found it. We then returned to the picnic table, half expecting to find a second bear, in cahoots with the first one, who had lured us away, eating our lunch. But all was intact. We quickly finished our lunches and, with backpacks in place, returned to the canyon, where we discovered that our bear was nowhere in sight. We then proceeded upcanyon, looking for Colima warblers and other birds among the oaks and maples. In about a hundred yards, we discovered our bear, wandering along the canyon bottom ahead of us. But as we

Black Bear in Boot Canyon

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approached closer, it walked up a little side-canyon to the right and out of sight. Just beyond we found a small pool of stagnant water in the canyon bottom, the bear's apparent destination. Eight birders were positioned along the trail above the pool, observing the various bird species that came in to drink. The bear had been their largest visitor. Finding itself between us and the other birders, it had left the scene. My group remained at the waterhole for about half an hour and then started back down the canyon en route to the Basin. However, we had not gone more than a hundred yards when we encountered a second bear, a sow with a cub in tow, moving upcanyon toward us. Knowing that black bears can be dangerous when accompanied by a cub, I immediately stopped to let the sow realize our mutual predicament. We were in her path to water, and she was in our route back to the Basin. The slight breeze was blowing toward us, and she at first seemed unaware of our presence. I purposefully shuffled my feet in the loose rocks to alert her to our position. She stopped then, stared our way, and sniffed the air to detect the source of the noise. It was soon obvious that she was aware that her route to the water was blocked and that one of us had to give in. She first made several strides toward us, expecting, I think, that we would retreat. I slowly advanced toward her, making considerable noise with my feet, and even picked up a large, flat rock and let it drop. It was then that she realized, apparently, that she might need to reconsider her attempt to get her own way, for she sent her cub up the steep rocky slope out of harm's way. But she continued to bluff her way toward us, even growling as she swung her bulky body toward us. Through binoculars, I could see her beady eyes focused on us. I continued to move, step by step, ever so slowly toward her, making shuffling noises in the rocks. Finally, after about ten minutes, she began a slow retreat up the slope, following her cub. Not until she was a couple hundred feet above the canyon bottom did we dare to pass. But we watched her carefully for any movement that she might make toward us. By then, I am sure that she realized that we did not pose a danger but only wished safe passage downcanyon. She remained on the hill, sitting on her haunches,

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watching us disappear from view. For a perspective on the park's black bear population, see November 18 (1994). MAY 5 (1976). This morning I visited the gambusia pond at Rio Grande Village with several members of the park staff. I had come to the park from Santa Fe, New Mexico, where, in the fall of 1972,1 had taken a job as regional chief scientist. Now I was in the park to, among other things, investigate the reported decline of the Big Bend gambusia, the park's bestknown endangered fish species. We found that the pond had been invaded by the nonnative mosquitofish, a very similar little fish that is able to outcompete the endemic Big Bend gambusia. The Big Bend gambusia population may also have been affected by the very cold weather of last winter, especially while the water level in the pond was lower than normal. We were fortunate that a population of the unique gambusia was being maintained by Dr. Clark Hubbs at the University of Texas in Austin. Our morning discussions resulted in a decision to prepare a habitat management plan for the gambusia pond so that this situation would be unlikely to happen again. Park staff members would capture as many of the remaining Big Bend gambusia as possible, dry the pond and kill off all the nonnative species, and then reconfigure the pond and drainage system to be as close to what naturally existed as possible. We also decided to construct a second gambusia pond, with adequate filters, along the nature trail. Back in Santa Fe, I helped find adequate funds for this project, and it was completed during the following winter. See my later review on July 19 (1978). MAY 5 (1976). Late in the afternoon at Rio Grande Village, I observed a fascinating act of aggression. While walking through the group campground, I suddenly encountered a pair of common ravens chasing a smaller raven. I stopped and watched these birds as they flew around the cottonwoods; the common ravens, cawing all the while, were pecking the smaller Chihuahuan raven whenever they got close enough. Finally, the smaller bird was forced to the ground, where the larger ravens set upon it and rained blow after blow on the seemingly helpless creature. Through binoculars I could see the Chihuahuan raven gradually give up the fight.

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The common ravens dealt it several more blows with their large, powerful bills and then flew off together. I examined the dead and bloody Chihuahuan raven, but I could only imagine what kind of infraction would cause such aggressive behavior. Perhaps it had attacked a young common raven or had attempted to take some choice piece of food, or, perhaps, it simply had encountered two overly aggressive common ravens with nothing else to do at the moment. Whatever the cause, the Chihuahuan raven had paid the ultimate price. MAY 6 (1970). Another super birding day at Rio Grande Village; Doyle and Helen Peckham and I recorded a total of eighty-four species. The highlight bird of the day was a male Blackburnian warbler, the first park record. We watched it feed among the willow foliage along the nature trail for a considerable time; we all had exceptional looks at this beautiful creature. Blackburnians are one of nature's finest creations. Males possess a bright orange throat and crown patch, black-and-orange face, and blackish wings with a bold white streak. I have seen this bird numerous other times since then, including on its nesting ground in the Great Smoky Mountains, but that sighting on the nature trail will forevermore be memorable. M AY 7 (1968). This is the first day of the 1968 Colima warbler census. Jon Barlow, Jim Lane, Wes Hetrick, and I hiked to Boot Spring via Laguna Meadow, censusing Colimas en route. We recorded two pairs from the trail below Laguna Meadow, a third pair in Laguna proper, and two others between Laguna and Boot Spring. On May 8, we censused all the canyons above Boot Spring and the following day censused along the Pinnacles Trail en route to the Basin. See May 11 for the count total. M A Y S (1969). Mike Parmeter, long-time birding friend from California, and I hiked up Blue Creek Canyon to Boot Spring today. We planned to stay two nights and participate in the third Colima warbler census. For an account of the first census, see May 11 (1967). Mike and I had a most productive three days, recording seventy-three pairs of Colimas in the Boot, East and South Rims, and Blue Creek Canyons. Also during the three days we recorded a grand total of seventysix bird species in the mountains, several of which represented significant sightings. En route to Boot Spring we found gray vireos and varied

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buntings to be surprisingly numerous along the trail. We discovered a pair of crissal thrashers nest-building at Laguna Meadow. At Boot Spring we found the first and second rose-breasted grosbeaks for the park. During a late afternoon rain shower at Boot Spring, three hermit thrushes serenaded us from the adjacent hillside. Mike found his "lifer" flammulated owl just above the cabin soon after dark. The next day we located an American kestrel nest below the South Rim and watched a peregrine falcon soaring along the high cliffs, chasing white-throated swifts. M A Y 9 (1968). I found and photographed a zone-tailed hawk nest at the Pinnacles today. While walking the ridge between Pinnacles Pass and Toll Mountain, checking each of the narrow canyons for singing Colima warblers, I was suddenly dived upon by a screaming zone-tailed hawk. Since such aggression is most uncommon with this bird, I immediately assumed that it had a nest nearby. Sure enough, I found the nest at the top of an Emory oak in one of the narrow slot canyons, high above the Chisos Basin. The nest contained two nestlings, still with considerable down. This same nest was utilized by zone-tails in 1969 and 1970, but when I checked this site in 1971, the oak had fallen over. MAY 9 (1995). I recorded at least nine western scrub-jays in Green Gulch today. I believe that this represents a new breeding population. The number of scrub-jays at this site had gradually increased since I first found one there on December 28,1967, and I documented the increase from 1990 to 1995. It will be interesting to see if the species is able to expand its range; until now the more aggressive Mexican jays have dominated every part of their range in the Chisos Mountain woodlands. It now appears that the scrub-jays have developed an enclave that is surrounded by Mexican jays. M AY 11 (1967). This is the first day of the very first Colima warbler census. This bird had never before been censused, and we had only general ideas about its population size and range within the Chisos Mountains. To census this bird, which occurs nowhere else in the United States, I divided the Chisos Mountains into eleven census areas and invited a number of friends and colleagues to assist with this first census: Jon Barlow, James Dick, Ned Fritz, John Galley, Ted Jones, Anne LeSassier, Dick Nelson, Kent Rylander, and Frances Williams.

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S The ten participants tallied forty-six pairs of Colima warblers and a

total of 143 bird species during the three-day census, all above approximately 5,700 feet elevation. As expected, the highest number of Colimas (eleven pairs) were found in middle Boot Canyon, followed by nine pairs along the East Rim; five pairs in both lower Boot Canyon and the Laguna Meadow canyons; four pairs in upper Boot Canyon; three pairs in each of the north Boot Canyons, along the South Rim Trail, and on Emory Peak; two pairs in the upper Chisos Basin; and one pair at Kibby Spring. Colima warbler counts were also taken in 1968,1969,1970,1972, and 1974 at about the same time of year. In 1968, counters tallied sixty-five pairs of Colimas and a total of 120 bird species. The highest numbers of Colimas were tallied in 1969, when counters recorded eighty-three pairs. In 1970, the Colima warbler population dropped to fifty-nine pairs. The decline was probably due to the lower than normal rainfall the park received during 1969, only 12.23 inches in the Chisos Basin, compared to the twenty-year average of 15.24 inches. The 1974 census produced even fewer Colimas, forty-seven pairs, following another dry year with 13.89 inches. Finally, fifty-two pairs of Colima warblers were recorded on the 1976 count. The population apparently had begun to bounce back, following two years of above-average rainfall, 22.61 inches in 1974 and 18.36 inches in 1975. MAY 11 (1969). News of the presence of the black-vented oriole at Rio Grande Village has spread to birders all across the country; they are beginning to appear out of the woodwork. This morning I escorted Charles and Betty Crabtree, Doug Eddleman, Wesley Hays, Mike Parmeter, Paul Paterson, Jim Tucker, Warren Pulich and Warren Jr., and David Wolf to find this unique North American visitor. Everyone had superb looks. We also spent part of the morning birding the general area, since the spring migration was still under way. Some of the most outstanding birds found included a pair of least bitterns; a sulphur-bellied flycatcher, the first park record; a gorgeous male black-throated blue warbler; a flock of twenty to twenty-five yellow warblers; and a male lazuli bunting. The sulphurbellied flycatcher was the most unexpected of these; we discovered it at the entrance to the nature trail, where Jim, Doug, and I had a good but quick look at this out-of-range species.

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M AY 14 (1968). I spent much of the day in Laguna Meadow and adjacent canyons and in upper Blue Creek Canyon searching for Colima warblers. I recorded a total of thirteen Colimas and two nests. By early afternoon I had settled down at a nest along the main trail below Laguna. I planned to document whatever occurred. When I first approached the site, both adults were foraging in gray oaks, moving from branch to branch, chipping with each move. Their tails jerked, like that of a gnatcatcher, with each chip. At 1:50 P.M., the "female entered nest by slow approach and dropped down branch to branch on shrubs to entrance." She "left immediately, but returned at 2:oo P.M." A park ranger passed by and we talked briefly, disturbing the incubating bird, which flew into the adjacent oaks. She "returned to the nest" at 2:16 P.M. "It seems that when nervous it flips tail and cleans bill more than otherwise! This nest is deeper than other nests seen, and made of grasses only." Most other Colima nests include pieces of leaves as well as hair from deer or horses. At 2:51 P.M., "male came along—chipping—female flew out immed. while male took 15-20 seconds getting into nest. The female flew away, apparently to find food. Foraged in pinyon at about 75-90 ft. from nest—continued to chip continuously." At 3:32, "female came back and male left immed. But returned to branch [above nest]. She finally went to nest by dropping down branch to branch—standing for 2 seconds at entrance. He then flew off. A black-eared bushtit came by when female was on branches above nest—once they were 4-5 inches apart. She showed no diff. behavior at all." MAY 16 (1976). Today is the last day of the 1976 Colima warbler cen-

sus. I spent the final morning in upper Boot Canyon and along the South Rim. My notes, made at the South Rim, included the following: "Lots of birds still coming from the south, alighting along the rim and feeding in the pinyons and oaks. East Boot Canyon runs across this path of movement and offers a watering and loafing place for Aud. [yellow-rumped warbler], tanagers, flycatchers, redstarts, sparrows, etc." I detected two unusual songbirds that afternoon: a northern parula and a mourning warbler.

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S MAY 17 (1970). It appears that the spring migration has begun to

decline; I could find only sixty-seven bird species at Rio Grande Village this morning. Several of these were obvious migrants: American bittern, calling from the cattails along the nature trail; tricolored heron; northern harrier; spotted sandpiper; long-billed curlew; American coot; sora; eastern wood-pewee; Empidonax flycatcher; ruby-crowned kinglet; cedar waxwing; solitary, warbling, and red-eyed vireos; yellow-rumped (Audubon's), MacGillivray's, and Wilson's warblers; American redstart; northern waterthrush; western tanager; green-tailed towhee; chipping, savannah, and lark sparrows; and pine siskin. MAY 18 (1967). I accompanied Dr. Jon Barlow, of Canada's Royal Ontario Museum, on a search for black-capped vireos today. Jon is the world's premier vireo specialist and is studying vireos throughout the Western Hemisphere. We spent the entire morning in the Chisos Basin along the south-facing slope of Pulliam Peak. We succeeded in locating two pairs of these fascinating little vireos, which are known to nest only within scrub oak habitats in a broad band from north-central Mexico to central Oklahoma. Male black-capped vireos sing a very distinct song of variable notes of grating, squeaking, and clinking sounds, and they will carry on for long periods of time. We detected one male in Campground Canyon, and we gradually worked our way up the very steep slope to where we had a good view of the obviously territorial bird. It was moving up and down the canyon, singing continuously from various shrubs. Our presence seemed to create minimum disturbance. Jon was able to tape an extended period of song. The day was extremely warm, and I found a bit of shade under a Gregg ash, from where I was able to watch the singing vireo and also to see a good length of the rather narrow canyon. I suddenly found myself staring at a nest in a Texas buckeye not more than thirty-five feet away. After more careful study of the nest through my binoculars, I discovered that it contained a bird that was barely peeking over the top. I edged slowly up the slope and somewhat closer to a point from which I could get a better view into the nest. It contained a black-capped vireo female, duller than the male

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Rufous-capped Warbler

with its black head and white spectacles, but a black-capped vireo nonetheless. I called Jon over and we stared together at the nesting vireo. Finally we slowly moved forward, and I actually got to within three or four feet of the nest before the female flew off. A quick look at the nest, which held three eggs, and a few photographs later, we both backed away and sat down to watch. The male, all the while we were near the nest, scolded us vehemently with loud "tcheee" notes. But as soon as we backed off, he resumed singing. Within another few minutes the female returned to the nest, inspected it for any disturbance, and soon settled in again. She seemed undisturbed, although we could see her reddish eyes watching us for any additional threat we might present. M AY 21 (1968). Spring migrants are still moving through the park. I recorded a total of fifty-eight bird species this morning at Rio Grande Village. At least sixteen of them were migrants: gadwall; American coot; spotted sandpiper; broad-tailed hummingbird; Empidonax flycatcher; western wood-pewee; crissal thrasher; cedar waxwing; northern parula; wormeating, yellow, MacGillivray's, and Wilson's warblers; American redstart; white-crowned sparrow; and Brewer's blackbird.

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S I also found a pair of groove-billed anis, only the second park record.

I collected one of these birds, and that specimen represented the "first authenticated record of the species for the Trans-Pecos" (Wauer 1968). MAY 24 (1974). Rose Ann Rowlett, Byron Berger,Jerry and Nancy Strickling, and I climbed the steep slope into Campground Canyon this morning to try to find the elusive rufous-capped warbler. David Wolf had discovered it there first on September 9,1973, but it had disappeared immediately afterward. It was not reported again until early May 1974. Now, we slowly worked our way into the narrow canyon, carefully watching for this rare Mexican visitor. We heard it first, a distinct "tzep" note from the oak trees ahead on the right. Then suddenly it appeared in the open, gleaning the leaves for insects and in clear view of all of us. We watched it through our binoculars for as long as it remained, and then it moved upcanyon and out of sight. It was a new U.S. bird for us all. The rufous-capped warbler is an active little warbler that frequents open brushy areas and woodlands at middle elevations in Mexico and south into Central America. It is distinctly marked with a chestnut crown and cheeks, white eyelines, and a yellow throat and chest. It is a bird that is difficult to mistake. M AY 2 5 (1967). I spent the night in the cabin at Boot Spring and after supper walked to the South Rim to watch the sunset. Storm clouds to the west obliterated the normally outstanding sunset, but the early darkness apparently triggered night-bird activity. Walking the 1.8-mile trail back to the cabin after dark, I recorded four whip-poor-wills, two common poorwills, two flammulated owls, and one eastern screech-owl. I set three mist nets up near the cabin at about 10:00 P.M. and on checking them at midnight found that I had captured a pair of flammulated owls (undoubtedly two additional birds from those I had heard earlier). I measured and banded both individuals, released them, folded up the nets, and went to bed. I got up before dawn, unfolded the nets, and fixed breakfast. An hour later, on checking the nets, I found that I had caught eight hummingbirds: two male and five female broad-tails and one male magnificent. I slowly untangled the hummingbirds and released them, one at a time. But as soon

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as I released the first one, rather than flying off out of harm's way as expected, it remained near the net, buzzing me and seemingly trying to help its companions. Each of the released hummers joined the first one in an apparent state of agitation, diving at me and hovering nearby until all the birds were released. At least four additional hummers, including a pair of bluethroats and a female lucifer, joined the agitated throng. I can't imagine what else these birds were up to if not defending their fellow hummingbirds. MAY 25 (1971). This morning I drove the River Road to San Vicente, where a visiting birder had reported a thick-billed kingbird; I wanted to check it out. Sure enough, I found the kingbird fly-catching among the mesquites along the floodplain. The thick-billed kingbird that had spent the winter near Boquillas Canyon had not been seen there since April 5; it is possible the San Vicente bird was that same individual. Also during my wanderings that morning at San Vicente I recorded a total of thirty-nine bird species, including at least six migrants: common nighthawk; western wood-pewee; warbling vireo; and yellow-rumped (Audubon's), MacGillivray's, and Wilson's warblers. I also found a nesting lesser nighthawk that flew off its nest (which contained two eggs), which was located on the ground beneath a small creosotebush. This nighthawk is commonplace in the desert lowlands during the summer months. At dusk and dawn, territorial birds produce an audible, low-pitched humming noise that can literally dominate the surroundings. M A Y 2 7 (1969). It took Don Davis and me almost two hours to cross the open xeric flat and climb the steep limestone slope of Mariscal Mountain to the open cave. We had left our vehicle at Solis, from where we could see the cave entrance amid the rather dense growth of cacti, Texas falseagave, and lechuguilla. Don had discovered vacant cave swallow nests within that cave the previous January while hiking on Mariscal Mountain, and we intended to examine the site during the nesting season. Early morning was reasonably cool, but by the time we reached the long bench where the cave was situated, approximately one mile from Solis and three hundred feet above the open flats, the temperature was already in the nineties. Both cave and cliff swallows had monitored our approach, and they excitedly fluttered around us as we approached the cave entrance.

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Don's cave extended a couple hundred feet deep with a domed ceiling six to eight feet above the dry, dusty floor. It was immediately obvious that swallows were utilizing the cave, flying in and out and chirping their annoyance. We found two active cliff swallow nests just inside the cave entrance. They had been constructed on a rocky facing, and their covered retort shape, with a lower side entrance, was obvious. Farther inside, sixty to seventy feet back from the entrance in the twilight portion of the cave, we found a total of eighteen active cave swallow nests. Each had been built along cracks in the domed ceiling, and each was open, not at all like those of the enclosed cliff swallow nests. At least two of the cave swallow nests contained young birds, and a third contained four eggs. Numerous pieces of eggshell littered the floor. I photographed the active nests to document their existence. These were the first cave swallow nests recorded for Big Bend National Park and Brewster County, Texas. This was also the first documented record of cave and cliff swallows nesting within the same cave, although cave and barn swallows often nest on the same building in Mexico. James Baker (1962) reported that all three species regularly occur together in villages throughout northcentral Mexico. Don and I later prepared a paper on our findings (Wauer and Davis 1972). MAY 27 (1970). Bird migration at Rio Grande Village has all but ended. Of forty-three species recorded this morning, only eight were obvious migrants: blue-winged teal; gadwall; American coot; olive-sided and least flycatchers; western wood-pewee; cedar waxwing; and MacGillivray's warbler. MAY 29 (1967). Today, much to my amazement, I found a dead mountain lion floating in Ernst Tinaja. I was working on the text for my booklet, Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River (ig7oa), which was later published by the Big Bend Natural History Association. I had driven the full length of the Old Ore Road, stopping to visit all the principal sites and measuring distances. Stopping near Ernst Tinaja about noon, I had followed the beautifully carved canyon to the huge, water-filled basin. The dead mountain lion was still fully intact and produced no noticeable odor; it appeared to have accidentally fallen into the steep-sided tinaja while try-

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ing to get a drink and, not able to climb out, eventually drowned. I estimated its demise to have happened only a day or two earlier. For additional information about this area, see December i (1967). MAY 30 (1967). As a follow-up to the May 18 visit to Campground Canyon, where Jon Barlow and I had found nesting black-capped vireos, I returned to that same area today to retrieve the vacant nest for the park's study collection. I located and collected the empty nest but found the adult male black-capped vireo still singing nearby. I also had heard a singing male gray vireo while climbing the steep slope. As I was crisscrossing the slope en route back to my vehicle, I discovered a gray vireo nest on a Gregg ash. The female was sitting tight, and she remained on the nest as I approached to within a few inches. I actually was able to photograph her crouched low in the nest from about twelve inches away. Finally, I reached up and touched the nest before she flew off; the nest contained four eggs. The male scolded me vehemently until I left the vicinity.

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JUNE J U N E 1 (1968). The park maintenance crew delivered a century plant to the Panther Junction Visitor Center today; I had earlier tagged it to be moved from lower Green Gulch. It was just beginning to grow its huge asparagus-like stalk, and I intended to position it just outside the visitor center entrance so that visitors could monitor its growth. Century Plant Blooms

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I also had painted and marked a fifteen-foot pole, marked off in inches. Both were in place by the end of the day. The Big Bend century plant, or Havard agave, takes twenty-five to fifty-five years to bloom, but the year that its stalk finally begins to grow, its growth is so fast that it can actually be measured daily. One plant brought to the visitor center in May 1967 grew sixteen inches in one twenty-four-hour period. All agaves are members of the amaryllis or daffodil family and bloom only once in their lifetime. On Agave havardiani, huge "platters" of yellow blooms eventually appear at the end of green branches, and each platter of flowers may last for a week to ten days. The flowers are natural cafeterias that are visited by a wide variety of animals, from insects to birds to bats, and the various animals attract an additional variety of predators. Big Bend's century plants are one of nature's most fascinating creations. For a sample of animals using a century plant, see June 13 (1968). J U N E 2 (1967). This evening, the Wauers, along with Jay and Ruth Jessen, hosted a natural foods dinner for several park friends. It began with sliced yucca stalk pieces, sprinkled with salt and cayenne pepper, baked heart of sotol and roasted javelina (obtained from a local rancher) for the main course, and sugared pricklypear slices for dessert. Beverages included margaritas (tequila made from century plants) before dinner, Mormon tea during, and margaritas afterward. The appetizer was excellent; the sotol was boring; the javelina was too greasy; the sugared pricklypear was fair; the Mormon tea was excellent; the margaritas were best. J U N E 2 (1971). For five consecutive years I conducted a breeding bird survey on a twenty-five-mile route (Hot Springs) inside the park, from the Hot Springs Junction, past Panther Junction, and west to Todd Hill. This survey was part of a nationwide program initiated by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. My last survey, taken on this date, was fairly typical of all the others. I recorded a total of 771 individual birds of thirty-three species on 50 three-minute stops along the route. The dozen most numerous birds recorded, in descending order of abundance, included blackthroated sparrow (219 individuals), northern mockingbird (108), pyrrhuloxia (68), scaled quail (44), ash-throated flycatcher (38), house finch (36), cactus wren (33), lesser nighthawk (32), verdin (27), mourning dove (26), brown-headed cowbird (25), and black-tailed gnatcatcher (24).

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J U N E 4 (1968). I spent the morning in Blue Creek Canyon, birding upcanyon for about three miles. The day was extremely warm, and there was little or no breeze. In about four hours I recorded twenty-seven bird species, three of which were of special interest. Just above the ranch house I discovered a pair of varied buntings carrying food. Both adults sang with food in their bills. Although they seemed to take special precautions against any predators following them, by watching carefully I was able to locate their nest in the midst of a rather dense area of low-growing shrubbery. The nest contained three youngsters, old enough to sit up and loudly beg for food. I also recorded several gray vireo males, singing along the canyon slopes approximately every quarter-mile apart. I was able to attract one male to within about fifty feet by spishing a single note very loudly. Although it carefully approached from shrub to shrub, once it located the source of the noise it climbed to the top of a Gregg ash and expressed its annoyance with a variety of harsh, scolding notes. Finally, just beyond the red-rock chimneys I found a recently fledged great horned owl sitting alone on a boulder in the middle of the drainage. It obviously was a youngster, as its downy feathers were still readily apparent. It allowed me to approach to almost arm's length before it flew up the canyon and disappeared. J U N E 5 (1970). This morning I surveyed the cacti on the open flats along the Paint Gap Road. This area was generally dominated by creosotebush, lechuguilla, tarbush, yuccas, and cacti. I found a total of eleven cactus species: cane and club chollas; tasajillo; Engelmann's and purple-tinged pricklypears; brown-flowered and strawberry cacti; devil's head; and catclaw, woven-spine pineapple, and nipple cacti. The majority of the cacti had already bloomed at least once this year. But the common Engelmann's pricklypears may have been at the height of their blooming season. Many of these robust pricklypears possessed bright yellow flowers, two to three inches high. These were the most obvious flowers in the desert today, and each was busy with bees and other insects. J u N E 7 (1969). While birding Cottonwood Campground this morning, I discovered a greater roadrunner nest seven feet high on a willow tree

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next to the river. Standing on a cottonwood log, I was able to peer into the nest, which contained four eggs. This was one of the highest-elevated roadrunner nests ever reported. Although I had found the nest when one of the birds had suddenly flown out of the tree, neither bird stayed nearby during my investigation. J U N E 7 (1970). An overnight trip to Boot Spring produced only thirty-five bird species; a low ebb in the bird life of the Chisos Mountains. The spring migration is over and the fall migration has not yet begun. I found a Colima warbler nest on the slope below Boot Spring, but the three nestlings were too small to band. In about five hours of netting birds at Boot Spring, I banded and released five Colima warblers, one blackheaded grosbeak, and three Scott's orioles. J U N E 8 (1968). I hiked to Boot Canyon and the South Rim today and stayed overnight in the NFS cabin. The day was bright and calm and not as hot as it had been in recent days. The Chisos Basin had received almost seven inches of rain so far this year, considerably more than during the same period in the last few years; the mountain slopes were lush. It seemed that the birds were responding to the abundance of greenery and a fresh food supply. I recorded a total of forty-three species during my day-and-a-half-long trek; the only bird considered a transient was a lone Empidonax flycatcher (either a dusky or Hammond's) in Boot Canyon. I also discovered a greater pewee, loudly singing its "ho-say maria" song from the upper slope of Emory Peak. This tropical flycatcher is a summer resident in the high mountains of southern Coahuila and Nuevo Leon, and this sighting was only the second for Texas. The remainder of the birds I found were typical summer residents. For me, the bird of the trip was an immature flammulated owl that I found along the Colima Trail during midafternoon. It had just captured a huge swallowtail butterfly. It held the butterfly in its mouth so that the butterfly's open wings nearly concealed the owl's head. It looked more like a huge yellow-and-black butterfly with a fat, streaked body than an owl. I attempted to take a picture, but when I approached, the owl, still holding its prey, flew off into the woods.

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J U N E 9 (1968). Laguna Meadow was bright green from recent rains. Several Big Bend century plants were in full bloom; each provided an important food source for a variety of wildlife. My interest today, however, was targeted at the base of the already dead century plants. I turned over several of these dry, brown skeletons in search of land snails. Snail biologist Lloyd Pratt of the Dallas Natural History Museum was eager to receive specimens of a rounded snail with three brown bands that had not yet been described. I collected four dead snails and a single live specimen during a two-hour search and later presented these to Lloyd for his examination. In 1971, based upon these and other snails found in the Laguna Meadow vicinity, he described a new land snail that he named agave snail (Humboltiana agavophile) (Pratt 1971). Pratt claimed that the species is found closely associated with Big Bend's century plants and is restricted to the uplifted block of Boquillas limestone at Laguna Meadow. J U N E i o (1967). I spent two hours observing gray vireos at their nest (originally found on May 30) in Campground Canyon today. Both adults were feeding their three nestlings; either one of the eggs had not hatched and had been discarded or one of the newly hatched birds had died or been taken by a predator. During my lengthy observations, I found that the male spent most of his time singing from adjacent perches on various shrubs and other posts, such as rocky outcroppings. On four occasions he brought a small caterpillar, a small bug, and two flies to the begging youngsters. The female seemed to bring in about the same amount of food but spent most of her time at the nest, either picking at it or sitting quietly at the edge. On one occasion she positioned herself in a way that sheltered the nestlings from the hot sunlight. J U N E 1 o (1970). As a further indication of the low ebb in the park's bird life, I recorded only forty-one species this morning at Rio Grande Village. Four sightings merit comment. The banded black-vented oriole (see July 4 [1969]) was still present at its favorite site. I found a male indigo bunting singing on the floodplain, but no evidence of a mate or a nest. Two pairs of bronzed cowbirds were present; one of the males was attempting to mount a female. I also discovered a pair of orchard orioles feeding young in a nest located about fifteen feet high in a sycamore tree.

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FOR ALL S E A S O N S J U N E 11 (1972). I spent most of the day with Paul Krausman, Ph.D.

student from the University of Idaho, who will spend the next two years in the park studying Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer. Paul's research eventually provided the park with welcome information about the deer's distribution, habitats, diet, competition with mule deer, and predator-prey relations. The results were later published by the National Park Service in Ecology of the Carmen Mountains White-tailed Deer (Krausman and Abies 1981). Paul estimated the Chisos Mountains population of white-tails at about 580 individuals, mostly above 4,500 feet elevation, and concluded that their population is limited primarily by free-standing water and dense vegetation. Lechuguilla and pricklypear make up 17 and 11 percent of their diet, respectively, although various forbs (14 percent) and grasses (4 percent) also are important. Of forty-nine dead white-tail deer found during the study, twenty-five were mountain lion kills, while the others died from undetermined causes or were killed by bobcats or coyotes. J U N E 12 (1968). Bobcats are reasonably common within the park, but they normally are shy and prefer to remain out of sight. However, today at noon, while I was eating lunch at home, an adult bobcat suddenly appeared just outside my dining room window. It lay down in the shade of a Torrey yucca, where it remained for about thirty minutes. I watched it through the picture window from about twenty feet away while I ate; it seemed to totally ignore me. Finally, without any obvious reason, it got up and walked away into the desert. I had not seen it there before, and I haven't seen it since. J U N E 13 (1968). For two hours this morning, from 8:00 to 10:00,1 sat in the shade of an Emory oak along Oak Creek, watching the activity at a huge, blooming century plant. I recorded a grand total of fourteen birds and two mammals that were utilizing the plant and/or its platter-size flowers in one way or another. Birds included nectar-feeders, insect-feeders, and a few that were simply using the tall plant as a resting or singing post. Three species of hummingbirds—lucifer, blue-throated, and broadtailed—came to sip the sweep nectar from the bright yellow flowers. They remained for only a few seconds before flying off on other pursuits. A pair

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Carmen Mountains White-tailed Deer

of Scott's orioles visited the flowers on two occasions, and an immature male also came by for a quick visit. White-winged doves were present most of the time, but I was never sure whether I was watching two or three individuals that returned after brief absences or if each visitor represented a different bird. At least two different ash-throated flycatchers utilized the tall agave for a lookout post from which they would sally forth after passing insects. On at least two occasions one of the ash-throats dived into the flowers themselves, apparently to capture an insect that had been attracted by the sweetness. Other insect-eaters that visited the flowering agave to forage for food among the flowers included a pair of ladder-backed woodpeckers, a pair of cactus wrens that flew off to feed a waiting family as soon as they collected an insect, a Bewick's wren, at least two male varied buntings, and several (probably) canyon towhees and rufous-crowned sparrows. When I first arrived, a Texas antelope squirrel was grazing in the middle of a huge flower cluster. It was almost hidden from view except when it raised up to check for danger. It remained only a short time after I arrived and then scampered

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down the tall green stalk and disappeared. It was later replaced by a larger rock squirrel that climbed the stalk to graze. It was present when the bluethroated hummingbird came by to feed and was buzzed several times before the blue-throat selected another platter of flowers. J U N E 15 (1976). Interactions between mammals and birds are not often reported. But John Egbert and I observed a fascinating happening today as a Harris' hawk trailed after a badger, apparently searching for whatever insects the badger might dislodge and ignore. The incident occurred north of the park in the open mesquite-creosotebush-dominated ranchlands along State Highway 385. We were initially attracted to the scene when the Harris' hawk flew from the road shoulder to the area of a watering trough as our car approached. We stopped and got out of the vehicle to view the hawk through binoculars. It was then that we saw the badger. It was methodically rooting under piles of cow dung and digging into the loose soil. By this time the hawk was standing on the ground nearby and watching the badger; the latter appeared to be ignoring the hawk completely. The badger moved from one dung pile to another, followed by the hawk, which examined the ground and overturned dung piles as soon as the badger moved on. At one time the hawk was no farther than three feet from the badger. At another time the hawk flew to the top of a fence post directly above the busy mammal. We watched these activities for about twelve minutes while the badger and hawk moved a distance of approximately three hundred feet. Not once did the badger seem to be disturbed by our presence or that of the hawk. We later examined the piles of cow dung overturned by the badger and also others that had not been disturbed. We discovered several arthropods—insects and centipedes—beneath the undisturbed piles but none on the ground surface under the disturbed piles. Although we did not observe the hawk take any prey, we surmised that it searched for arthropods missed by the badger. The relationship between the Harris' hawk and the badger might be that of mutualism, when both animals benefit from the association. However, unless the hawk acted as a lookout, it is doubtful if the badger received

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any benefit from the hawk. Opportunism is a more likely relationship. The Harris' hawk had learned to use the badger's feeding habits for its own benefit. J U N E 16 (1976). John Egbert and I had hiked to Boot Spring during the early morning hours, and, after making camp below the cabin, we had wandered down the canyon in search of Colima warblers. John was going to study the Colima warbler's nesting habits for several weeks, and I was orienting him to the canyon area and instructing him about our project. We located several singing warblers along the lower canyon and began to map the various territories. By late morning, we had moved upcanyon above the cabin, surveying the birds all the way to the South Rim. Late afternoon found us sitting on rocks among the oaks and maples in the canyon near the Juniper Canyon Trail junction. We watched a pair of Colimas foraging among the new green leaves, searching for the green caterpillars that appeared to form the major part of their diet. I was suddenly attracted to a larger bird that was quietly sitting among the dense foliage. I had not seen it arrive and had no idea how long it had been present. With binoculars, I was able to identify it as a cuckoo; its slender body and long tail, marked with white spots, were fairly obvious. But it took considerable time before I was able to see any additional characteristics. With patience I was able to see its all-dark bill and red eye ring—a black-billed cuckoo. It was the first park sighting of this eastern cuckoo. J U N E 17 (1968). I spent the morning with Dr. William Degenhardt, biology professor at the University of New Mexico, along the Grapevine Hills roadway. Bill and his students were doing a follow-up study on the area's vegetation and lizard populations. He had originally studied lizards there from 1956 to 1958, and his current interest was to determine what changes had occurred in the ten intervening years. He had an elaborate system of ground nets and associated can-traps scattered over the terrain on six 1- to 4-acre plots, located between Tornillo Flat and Green Gulch, from 2,8oo to 5,250 feet elevation. Bill was especially interested in three species: greater earless lizard and western and rusty-rumped whip tails. Leopard, side-blotched, and little striped whiptail lizards were also present. The re-

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Whip-poor-will

suits of this project were later published in the Transactions of the Symposium on the Biological Resources of the Chihuahuan Desert Region: United States and Mexico, which David Riskind and I originated and coordinated (Degenhardt 1977). Degenhardt's study revealed that in ten years the lizard species had remained pretty much the same but that there had been a significant change in the relative numbers of individuals in each species. An increase in plant density and diversity was also documented on all six plots, and before and after photographs were included in the report. Since lizards are usually dry-land species, many populations decline with increasing vegetation. Degenhardt found that the greater earless lizard was most severely affected by increased (recovering) vegetation and that the rusty-rumped whiptail may actually replace the western whiptail when vegetation increases. J U N E 19 (1968). I found a greater roadrunner nest at Rio Grande Village this morning. It had been built in a four-winged saltbush at the edge of very brushy area between the group campground and the Rio Grande. What made this particular nest different from several others that I have examined in the park was that this one contained three nestlings and three eggs, the largest set I had seen. However, Arthur Cleveland Bent points out that "sets with as many as 12 eggs have been recorded" (1964: 40).

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J U N E 19 (1971). I slept near the South Rim last night at a flat area approximately one hundred feet off the trail at a secluded site where my gear would not disturb a passing hiker. The sunset was remarkable, and I will long remember the rosy glow on the Sierra del Carmens. However, I apparently had placed my sleeping bag within the breeding territory of a whippoor-will, because it kept me awake much of the night. Although its loud and constant calls were enjoyable at first, they lost their appeal after a few hours. At one time the singing bird, presumably the male, was sitting within three feet of my head. From a distance, it is impossible to judge the volume of its calls. But from three feet, it resembles a cannon blast. The dawn chorus of songbirds was most welcome. J U N E 20 (1971). I spent several hours banding birds at Boot Spring today but netted only five Colima warblers and a lone Townsend's bigeared bat. What this nocturnal mammal was doing flying about during the midmorning hours is anyone's guess. It likely was a migrant and was hunting for food after a late arrival. David Schmidly claims that this species is the "most characteristic bat of caves and abandoned mine tunnels in the Trans-Pecos" (1977: 50). It had previously been found to utilize a nursery colony in a cave on Emory Peak. J U N E 21 (1967). "Ro, some folks at the information desk are reporting a thick-billed kingbird in the Basin. Do you want to talk with them?" Seasonal naturalist Dick Nelson, who had been working at the Panther Junction Visitor Center desk that day, had talked with the Hendersons, who were reporting their find. He had decided that the report was probably valid and that I would be interested. I immediately left my stack of paperwork and went to the front desk to talk with the Hendersons. Since there were no previously confirmed records of this flycatcher in Texas, it was of considerable interest. It was soon obvious that Mr. and Mrs. O. R. Henderson, of Clearwater, Florida, were experienced birders and that they were aware of the significance of their find. They had, in fact, already photographed the bird and agreed to send me a copy for documentation. Although the Hendersons were leaving the park, they gave me good directions on where to find this bird in the Chisos Basin.

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walked about one mile down the Window Trail to the approximate location, and were soon watching a real live thick-billed kingbird. For the next three hours we observed this bird, which remained within an area of about twenty-five acres. On numerous occasions it would dash out after a passing insect, which it usually caught with a loud snap of its huge, all-black bill. It called loud "kiterreer" and "cut-a-reep" notes on several occasions. Once it chased a passing violet-green swallow for several hundred feet before returning to its perch. We left our post at 2:00 P.M., but when I returned during the early evening hours, I was unable to locate the bird again. Several weeks later, I received a slide from the Hendersons of the thick-billed kingbird, sitting on the open branches of its Chisos Mountains perch. I included the photograph with a short article that appeared in the Southwestern Naturalist in December 1967. J U N E 21 (1971). What a marvelous and exciting display of natural power I have experienced during the last few days. The building of a thunderstorm is one of the most awe-inspiring sights on earth. Gigantic black-and-white mushrooming clouds above the nearby mountains rank high among the most spectacular natural phenomena that human beings will ever witness. In most parts of the country, the settings are not as conducive to such inspiring occurrences. Thunderstorms represent violent movements of air. They occur as a result of strong uplifting drafts that sometimes build the clouds to heights in excess of 75,000 feet. Meteorologists tell us that thunderstorms develop in three stages. First, small cumulus clouds build into larger masses of billowy, mushroom-shaped clouds called cumulonimbus, the familiar thunderheads that can be seen for more than a hundred miles. Second, when the ascending air reaches a low-enough temperature, precipitation occurs. Tiny water droplets are blown wildly around within the clouds until they join together to form larger droplets that are too heavy to remain in cloud form. Gravity takes over, and the droplets begin to fall as rain, ice crystals, or snow. Huge downdrafts are created when this occurs as the falling pre-

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cipitation cools the air below, producing the third stage. The entire cloud becomes a sinking mass of air and precipitation. Lightning is an electrical charge within a thundercloud or between it and the earth. Charges between clouds or the earth are released when electrical pressure becomes high enough. The first strokes are within a cloud; approximately 65 percent of all discharges occur there or between clouds. Lightning to the ground starts with a relatively thin "leader" stroke from the cloud and is followed immediately by a heavy return stroke from the ground. A single lightning strike goes back and forth from cloud to ground many times in less than a tenth of a second. A lightning discharge is incredibly powerful, up to 30 million volts at 100,000 amperes, but it is very short in duration; hence, the power of lightning has never been harnessed. The total energy of a major thunderstorm far exceeds that of an atomic bomb. The sudden heat from lightning causes the compression of shock waves that we call thunder. The distance of these can be estimated by sight and sound. Light travels at about 186,000 miles per second, and sound travels only 1,100 feet per second, or one mile in a little less than five seconds. Judge the distance of a storm by timing how long it takes for thunder to reach you after you see the lightning flash. If you hear the thunder forty seconds after the lightning, then you are eight miles from the storm. The energy of a Big Bend thunderstorm is almost beyond human imagination. I can think of few other places in the world that are better for watching Mother Nature's most spectacular show. Also see August 8 (1966) for a description of flooding. J U N E 22 (1971). I found two kingbird species—Couch's and western—nest-building at Rio Grande Village this morning. A lone Couch's kingbird was constructing a nest high on a cottonwood over the pond at the group campground; that individual remained there, defending its nest, until August 4, but a mate never did appear. The pair of western kingbirds was utilizing a tall cottonwood in the main campground. The adults were found feeding young on July 13, and a fledgling was seen there on August 4. J U N E 24 (1972). Apparently all the local violet-green swallows had gathered on the fence lines that surrounded the sewage lagoons in the

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Chisos Basin this morning. The majority of these birds were fledglings, and several were begging food from the nearest adult. It appeared that the adults were doing their best to keep the youngsters happy, but their best was not enough. The loud begging of thirty to thirty-five demanding swallows dominated the area. J U N E 25 (1969). At least three dozen band-tailed pigeons were present among the oaks near The Window today. New acorns were plentiful on the gray and Emory oaks, and the band-tails had arrived en masse to take advantage of that fresh food supply. I was reminded of what Walter Rooney, who had lived below The Window at Oak Creek from 1916 to 1923, had told Doug Evans in a taped 1966 interview, that "millions of pigeons" came into Oak Creek, scattered over a mile "like the wind blowing" when the acorns were on the trees. One pigeon that was killed had twenty-eight acorns in its gut. J U N E 27 (1968). I watched two Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer bucks feeding on sumac leaves along the lower portion of the Window Trail today. Both the evergreen and little-leaf sumacs were being browsed, and both bucks seemed to be concentrating on the fresh, new leaves. A few years later, Paul Krausman, who was studying white-tails (see June 11 [1972]), reported that evergreen and desert sumac represented only traces in their summer diet. Principal browse plants at that time of year included acacias, guayacan, and oaks, while the dominant forb was a spurge, Euphorbia serrula. J U N E 28 (1969). Today I unsuccessfully attempted to net and band the black-vented oriole that has continued to frequent the same area of Rio Grande Village since April 28. I used four mist nets placed at strategic places where the bird has been feeding in recent days, but to no avail. I did manage to capture and band many of its associates: two northern mockingbirds, one summer tanager, one blue grosbeak, seven orchard orioles, and two house finches. J U N E 30 (1970). The summer rains have apparently begun, as the park experienced more than two inches during the last few days (3.47 inches were recorded at Panther Junction in June). The recent storm that moved into the Big Bend National Park area from the southeast apparently

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brought a white-fronted dove with it. While birding Rio Grande Village this morning, I found a lone white-front walking around a campsite on the eastern edge. This was my first (and only) sighting for the park, although there were earlier reports at Dugout and the Chisos Basin on June 10 and 12,1956, respectively, by Alexander Sprunt Jr. The nearest known validated records (by a specimen or photograph) of this southern dove are from near Falcon Dam, approximately 350 miles below Big Bend National Park.

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JULY J u L Y 1 (1969). Once again I attempted to capture and band the black-vented oriole at Rio Grande Village, but today I tried a new technique. I placed a stuffed great horned owl on the ground with a mist net directly behind it so that the oriole would get entangled in the net if it attacked the owl. Although the oriole perched ten feet above the stuffed bird and watched while a pair of northern mockingbirds launched attack after attack on the owl, it did not join the mockingbirds, which were soon entangled. I next drew a black-vented oriole on a piece of cardboard, colored it with all the right colors, and mounted it on a stick in the ground next to the net. This, too, was a failure.

Black-vented Oriole at Mist

102 FOR ALL S E A S O N S The only productive results that morning were eight banded birds— two ladder-backed woodpeckers, one northern mockingbird (one of the two entangled birds was already banded), one summer tanager, one orchard and one hooded oriole, and two blue grosbeaks—but the blackvented oriole was still unbanded. J U L Y 4 (1969). Finally, success! Today was a red-letter day. I succeeded in capturing the elusive black-vented oriole. After a week trying to net it within its primary territory at Rio Grande Village, I decided I was going to stay after the bird if it took me all day. By moving one of the nets each time the bird changed position, I finally succeeded in capturing my nemesis bird at midday. I wondered afterward if it had decided to offer itself simply because of the massive effort I was expending. I carefully extracted it from the netting, banded, measured, and photographed it from all angles, and let it go. I immediately wrote the following note in my field book: "Rather ferocious in hand, continually trying to break away—chattered in squeaky, lispy, melodic notes—not same rattling call heard from trees. When released it flew directly up 40-50 feet, then over to thick brushdove into it." The black-vented oriole, a tropical oriole, has been reported in the United States only a few times. The Rio Grande Village record represented the first verified record for the United States, and further details about its occurrence were published in The Auk (Wauer I97ob); still further details about its behavior are included in A Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend (Wauer 1996). J U L Y 4 (1972). George Burdick and I took our wives to the little Mexican village of Boquillasjust across the Rio Grande and upriver from Boquillas Canyon, for the evening. We visited with Sefior Padilla regarding transportation into the nearby Maderas del Carmen (he had taken me into these remote Mexican mountains on several earlier occasions), and we also visited the local store and drank one or two cervezas at the cantina. Soon after dark, George observed a gecko larger than the common, native banded gecko on the store walls, and later in the evening we were able to collect two individuals from the adjacent outhouse. Soon after returning home we identified our collections as Mediter-

J U L Y 103 ranean geckos, a nonnative species that had never before been reported so far inland. Its westernmost distribution at that time was Del Rio and adjacent Ciudad Acufia. Our specimens extended its range a good 150 miles westward. During subsequent years it become a common resident throughout West Texas, and by 1995 it had been reported as far west as El Paso and north along the Rio Grande at least to Las Cruces (Jerry Johnson, personal communication). The Mediterranean gecko looks very different from the native banded gecko. It is an overall tan color and has a warty skin and huge eyes; the smaller banded gecko adult is covered with broad chocolate bands that alternate with narrower creamy bands. J U L Y 6 (1969). I could not find the black-vented oriole today, even though I searched all its previous haunts. Perhaps after being captured and manhandled it had left for places unknown. However, perhaps in compensation for the missing oriole, I discovered a least grebe in the pond on the northeastern corner of the campground; that bird represented the first park record. It, too, like the black-vented oriole, is a tropical species, although there had been numerous earlier records in South Texas. This least grebe must have liked its new environment, because it remained at Rio Grande Village at least until early July 1970. J U L Y 7 (1968). Cicadas were deafening this morning in the Chisos Basin. The warm weather seemed to intensify their loud songs. Only cicada males sing; the females are silent but are able to receive sound vibrations through their body walls. Males possess a pair of sound chambers, one on each side, on the undersurface at the base of the abdomen. Over each of these is stretched a membranous plate that produces the characteristic call. Each of the world's more than fifteen hundred cicada species produces a different call. The inability of the females to sing has produced the old adage "Happy be the male cicadas' lives, for they, you see, have voiceless wives." Also, on examining several shrubs I found a number of twigs with browning leaves, evidence that a female cicada had already deposited her eggs under the bark. After egg laying she partially severs the twig near the base by repeatedly puncturing it with her beak. This action checks the

iO4 FOR ALL S E A S O N S growth of the plant tissue; normal growth of a healthy plant would otherwise seal in the eggs so the nymphs would be unable to escape. Once the eggs hatch, the nymphs drop to the ground and immediately burrow in, locating a rootlet on which they feed without damaging the tree or shrub. The nymphs remain underground for a few to several years before they are fully grown. When they emerge, they climb onto a tree or shrub, and each adult cicada climbs out of its exoskeleton. After a few hours of drying, the cicada's life cycle, including the male's loud songs, begins anew. J U L Y 8 (1971). I spent several hours this morning watching peregrine falcons in Santa Elena Canyon. At least four birds, two adults and two fledglings, were present most of the time, flying along the cliffs, diving at real or imagined prey along the river, or perching on top of the high cliff. They also called to each other frequently; the fledglings seemed to be the most vocal. I never did see the adults bring any food to the younger birds, but I assumed they had already eaten earlier in the morning. I did see the two youngsters fly after an adult, screeching to be fed or begging, with wings quivering at their sides, when the adult landed on the cliff top. One of the adults seemed to take great pleasure in diving at turkey vultures that were perched on top of the cliff; they all scattered each time a peregrine swooped at them. Santa Elena Canyon has a long history of peregrine occupation, although aerie sites change almost every year. This year the birds were using a high ledge on the Mexican side of the river, barely visible from near the end of the Santa Elena Canyon Trail. The Santa Elena Canyon peregrines nest fairly early in the season, starting in early April, and young birds are flying by early May; they may remain in the vicinity until mid-July and then leave for locations unknown. The adults normally remain in the vicinity year-round. J U L Y i o (1969). The black-vented oriole reappeared at Rio Grande Village today. Bob Smith, biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and I found it in the same general area where it had been since April 28. It seemed perfectly at ease with its new band. It even interacted in the same old way with other orioles, chasing them around the abundant trees and shrubs.

J U L Y 105 J U L Y 13 (1968). Cottonwood Creek, which runs past the Old Ranch, is overgrown with vegetation this year; portions of the arroyo are running water for the first time in many years. I decided to investigate this new habitat to see what wildlife might occur there. I followed the arroyo for about a mile, recording whatever I encountered. Javelina tracks were everywhere, and it was obvious that they had been bathing in some of the shallow pools. I heard several running off through the adjacent thickets. Deer tracks were also plentiful in the wash. Coyotes and gray foxes had been taking advantage of the fresh water as well. Birds were most obvious. The mesic vegetation had attracted a number of species that normally occur only at wetlands. Yellow-billed cuckoos, Bell's vireos, yellow-breasted chats, and northern cardinals were most numerous. Just below the Old Ranch I found two adult crissal thrashers feeding a lone fledgling; I couldn't help but wonder if other youngsters had already been claimed by predators. Most surprising that morning, however, was the number of varied buntings singing along the arroyo. I counted seven males and one female, which was feeding a lone youngster. Although the Old Ranch and Cottonwood Creek had not previously been known as a good place to find this lovely bird, since then this area has become one of the park's most rewarding locations. J U L Y 13 (1969). I birded the Window Trail this morning, hiking down the trail and returning along Oak Creek to the service road and campground. I recorded a total of forty-one bird species, including a pair of lucifer hummingbirds, several broad-tailed hummers, and more than twenty black-chins, all feeding at flowering century plants. It was obvious that lowland nesting hummingbirds had by now moved into the mountains, where there were many more flowering plants. J U L Y 17 (1969). My talk this evening at the Chisos Basin Amphitheater was practically drowned out by the loud, penetrating calls of the Big Bend quonker. The continuous "quonk-quonk-quonk" calls emanate from Big Bend's endemic green katydid, known as Paracyrtophyllus excelus. Its distinct nighttime calls can hardly be mistaken for anything else. Summer nights at mid-elevations in the Chisos Mountains are truly unique.

io6 FOR ALL S E A S O N S J U L Y 19 (1978). I examined the restored Big Bend gambusia habitat at Rio Grande Village this morning. Park employees had recently restructured the pond and runoff ditches to provide this endemic fish with a wetland habitat similar to that in which it evolved. It appears that their effort has already proved successful. My notes made that day include the following: Good flow is evident below pond. Very shallow at start, but deeper (3-5 in.) in second 2/s of length. Gambusia very common in deeper flow, but present throughout. Upper end has lots of pond weed, and deeper part more open. Cattails beginning to grow in upper part and need to be pulled. I pulled 32. Screen over pipe ok, but needs changing in next few months. End of flow seeps into soil satisfactorily. No evidence of seeping over onto road or toward pump house.

For further details about the history of this species and its type locality, see January 18 (1968). J U L Y 20 (1969). My hike to Laguna Meadow this morning was slower than normal because of the abundant hummingbirds feeding on the many blooming century plants along the trail. Every plant had several black-chinned hummingbirds, and broad-tails were almost as numerous. I also observed a number of lucifers and at least one magnificent hummingbird and one rufous hummingbird. Although southbound rufous hummers have since then been reported in the park as early as June 27, this was the earliest fall migrant that I had seen. In fact, there is only a brief period, April 18 to June 27, between the latest spring and earliest fall migrant. Male rufous hummingbirds leave their breeding ground in northwestern North America very soon after mating and can be found throughout the western mountains during most of the summer months. Avian family activities were also evident today. I found a pair of rock wrens with three or four fledglings in the middle of the trail about one mile above the Chisos Basin Trailhead; a quarter-mile below Laguna Meadow, I found a crissal thrasher carrying food, apparently to a waiting family; and in Laguna Meadow itself I discovered a black-chinned sparrow carrying a huge mouthful of nesting materials—rather late to begin nesting for this little sparrow.

J U L Y 107 J U L Y 21 (1968). Numerous century plants, including those that seem to be hybrids with lechuguilla, are blooming along the Window Trail. I spent a few hours today photographing some of these unusual plants. Most botanists refer to these odd little century plants as Chisos agave (Agave glomeruliflora) but suspect that the Chisos Mountains plants are hybrids from a cross between the common Big Bend century plant (Agave havardiana) and the lechuguilla (Agave lechuguilla). But unlike most other hybrids, these plants are able to reproduce. Michael Powell (1988) considers Chisos agave a full species. J ULY 22 (1970). Ant specialist Dr. Arnold Van Pelt and I spent the entire day along the River Road looking for any ants that might occur there. During the course of the day we collected a dozen or more species. Since then, Van has spent several summers in the park working out the identification and distribution of the park's ant fauna. As of 1995, he had collected ninety-eight kinds of ants in the park. He reported on his Chisos Mountain collections in 1983: of twenty-nine genera, twenty-five were collected in grasslands, twenty-two in the pinyon-juniper woodlands, twentyseven in canyons, and seventeen in the high forests; twelve taxa were new records for Texas (Van Pelt 1983). J ULY 24 (1967). En route to Boot Spring today I climbed the steep talus slope on the west side of Emory Peak to examine and photograph the park's relict population of quaking aspens. Park ranger Eric Burr had counted 225 specimens of this little tree along the western and northern slopes in 1965, and I was curious about their well-being. Quaking aspens normally grow on higher, more extensive areas in the northern mountains, and their presence in Big Bend National Park suggests that the area was much cooler at some time in the past (also see November 19 [1967]). I found these trees doing very well; there were no obviously dead trees, and I found several young aspens growing among the talus. I later learned that one of the Emory Peak quaking aspens, measuring fifty-three feet tall and with a twenty-four-foot crown and a four-foot girth, is listed as the Texas "state champion" (Powell 1988). J u LY 26 (1969). I discovered a pair of groove-billed anis constructing a huge nest at Rio Grande Village today. The nest was located about fifteen feet high in a cottonwood along the nature trail. Both adults shared

io8 FOR ALL S E A S O N S

Quaking Aspens on ML Emory

in the nest-building activities, carrying billfuls of twigs, dead leaves, and grasses to the growing structure. That nest was never utilized, however; it was deserted in a day or two. But on August 5,1 found two anis, presumably the same birds, building two separate nests in a cottonwood at the northwest corner of the campground. They deserted these nests as well. These were the first and only nests recorded in the park. J ULY 27 (1968). I found myself in the middle of a herd of javelinas this morning while hiking in Green Gulch. The Chisos Mountains had received considerable rain during the last several days, and the morning was cool and overcast. I had hiked far up the eastern slope into a little valley to check the abundant oaks for possible Colima warblers. Although I failed to locate any Colimas, on the way back to my vehicle I took a different route and was suddenly face to face with about a dozen of these little native pigs. The majority of the javelinas immediately ran off, but three individuals, an old boar and two subadults, stayed behind within the little drainage, which showed lots of use. Javelina scat was abundant, and there was a wellworn trail at the bottom. The old boar snorted a few times, apparently protesting my presence, and then it and its two associates also walked away into the nearby brush.

J U L Y 109 I continued down the drainage, following the well-worn trail. But in less than a couple hundred yards I came upon two more javelinas lying in a puddle of mud. They were far enough away, and the breeze was apparently in my direction, so that neither of the two bathers was aware of my presence. I was able to watch them through binoculars as they continued their mud bath. Both were completely covered with wet mud, and they undoubtedly were thoroughly enjoying the occasion. I was never sure if I was watching a boar or sow, they were so covered with mud. Every few minutes one or the other would either roll or dive headfirst into the gooey matrix. They reminded me of domestic barnyard pigs. Finally, one apparently caught my scent; it stood up, snout in the air, sniffing to detect any danger. Then, suddenly, both of these mud-covered pigs bolted, running down the drainage and disappearing from view. J U L Y 30 (1967). Summer rains, more than four inches in the last thirty days, have already produced green grasses throughout the Chisos Mountains. The park's wildlife is responding. Between Panther Junction and the Basin Junction, I counted up to twenty skylarking Cassin's sparrows this morning. Their songs were commonplace wherever I stopped along the three-mile route. No other sparrow sings such a distinct threepart song. Scott Terrill, in The Audubon Society Master Guide to Birding, has the best description: "a long, single, musical trill that sounds like a long, drawn-out note at a distance: tseeeeeeee, with closing notes tee, tee to toy, tay" (1983: 226). Cassin's sparrows are true grassland sparrows that follow the rains, nesting only when rain produces spring or summer grass seeds; some years they are absent altogether. Also, as with other grassland birds, their territorial behavior has evolved with the absence of singing posts. Territorial birds fly high in the sky, spread their wings, and parachute downward, singing their unique songs. J ULY 30 (1970). I found a pair of orchard orioles feeding a bronzed cowbird youngster this morning at Rio Grande Village. This was only the second incident of bronzed cowbird parasitism on orioles recorded in the park; I had found a hooded oriole nest with two juvenile bronzed cowbirds on July 18. It appears that this cowbird, known in the park only since June

no

FOR ALL S E A S O N S

1969, is going to have a major effect on some species. The smaller brownheaded cowbird, a long-time resident in the park, has totally wiped out nesting yellow warblers (Wauer 1996). J U L Y 31 (1968). Badgers are few and far between in the park, and so finding one of these midsize mammals at Rio Grande Village was a real surprise. I had been birding the Daniel Ranch and was walking a loop route through the mesquite flat, east of the silt pond, when I discovered the lone badger. It apparently was in search of rodents, lizards, birds, or whatever prey species it might encounter. I believe that we saw each other at the same time, and it immediately retreated into the protection of a huge honey mesquite. But rather than continuing on, it backed up against the mesquite trunk, turned toward me, and snarled. I watched it for several minutes as it nervously watched my every movement. We had reached a stalemate. In a few minutes I continued on, leaving the badger to continue whatever it had been doing before our encounter.

AUGUST A U G U S T i (1967). Bird life in the lowlands is at its lowest ebb at this time of year. The breeding birds are quiet now, except for a much reduced dawn chorus, and only a few post-nesting species are beginning to appear. This morning at Rio Grande Village, I recorded only thirty-eight species; three of those—one great egret, one tricolored heron, and three spotted sandpipers—were transients. At the silt pond, I found an adult pied-billed grebe with four youngsters. The striped fledglings, with red head-patches, were following the adult along the edge of the cattails, diving for

-'.

' ''Montifain Lion

112 FOR ALL S E A S O N S food and also slowly sinking into the water so that only their heads were showing. I wondered if they were going through a survival training course. A U G U S T 3 (1967). My first ever mountain lion! It was about 10:30 P.M. I had just given a talk at the Chisos Basin Amphitheater, and after answering questions from the audience and staying for a brief discussion afterward, I started home. As I approached the upper paved pull-off in Green Gulch, I was startled by a large, long-tailed cat crossing the readjust ahead. A mountain lion! There was little doubt about its identity. I immediately slowed down and stopped about forty feet from where it too had stopped on the right side of the roadway, facing in my direction. Then, to my amazement, it sat down on the road shoulder, as if it was curious. The headlights from my vehicle highlighted its massive shoulders and legs, large, rounded head, and very long tail. Recovering from my initial surprise, I plugged a spotlight into the vehicle's cigarette lighter and slowly stepped outside with a camera. The lion seemed at ease and only mildly concerned about my movements. I was able to turn on the spotlight and take several slides before it casually got up and walked away into the darkness. The resultant slides showed little more than two shining eyes. But that sighting, my very first mountain lion, was strangely anticlimactic. After dreaming so many times of seeing a mountain lion in its natural environment, this one had seemed half-tame and more curious than alarmed. A U G U S T 5 (1969). Rio Grande Village was hot, calm, and dry this summer morning. I had arrived by 6:00 A.M. and had spent the first couple of hours birding all the key locations. All the birds recorded were summer residents, species to be expected at that time of year. Although my morning route had begun in the campground and included the Rio Grande Nature Trail, I returned to the campground area after checking out the silt ponds at the opposite end of the Rio Grande Village area. Walking through the campground on that second round, I was impressed with the number of vermilion flycatcher youngsters that were fly-catching from the abundant trees and other posts. Suddenly, high overhead, I saw a distinctly marked adult swallowtailed kite soaring with a small group of vultures. I did an actual double take

A U G U S T 113 at first, but there was no confusing this black-and-white, long-tailed raptor. Its dexterity and grace were obvious, especially in comparison with the seven turkey vultures and two black vultures with which it was associated. I knew that this bird was previously unrecorded at Big Bend National Park, and I later learned that it was only the second record for the entire TransPecos; one had been reported over Fort Davis, Jeff Davis County, on August 26,1966. My sighting also represented the westernmost Mexican record and only the second for the state of Coahuila (Wauer igyoc). I immediately got my camera from my vehicle and, within the next few hours, was able to take a dozen photographs of this amazing creature as it soared high overhead. The kite remained over Rio Grande Village and the adjacent area throughout the day: park ranger Cecil Garrett saw it that morning; park naturalist Roger Siglin observed it at noon; and seasonal naturalist David Easterla found it still present there in the late afternoon. By the following morning, however, it had moved on. A U G U S T 6 (1968). My first green kingfisher today at Rio Grande Village. I discovered this tiny, green-backed kingfisher at the little pond at the northeastern corner of the campground. It nervously called its sharp "tick" notes all the while I was present. It remained perched on a snag of a fallen cottonwood in the middle of the pond. It was still present there when I checked a second time about two hours later. This same bird (presumably) and one additional green kingfisher remained in the general vicinity at least until October 27, 1968. Since those first sightings, it has been recorded along the Rio Grande every month, although there are no nesting records (Wauer 1996). A U G U S T 7 (1966). A Lost Mine Trail hike was my first excursion into the backcountry after moving to Big Bend National Park. I had just spent several days en route to Big Bend from my previous assignment at Zion National Park, Utah, and an additional few days moving into my new quarters at Panther Junction. I desperately needed to stretch my legs and see some of my new surroundings. The Lost Mine Trail filled the bill; it was a wonderful introduction to the park highlands. The trail begins at Panther Pass at 5,800 feet elevation, so one already is in the heart of the Chisos Mountain woodlands. The trail runs for

114 FOR ALL S E A S O N S 2.5 miles to a 7,550-foot promontory on the western ridge of Lost Mine Peak. Casa Grande forms a great rocky tower off to the right of the trail, and the views along the upper half of the trail are outstanding. The full extent of Juniper Canyon, with a backdrop of the East Rim, is evident from the first overlook. One can trace Juniper Canyon from near the Boot Canyon pouroff into the desert lowlands beyond to Glenn Spring, which lies at the southwestern corner of Chilicotal Mountain. Farther along the trail are some spectacular views to the west, into the Chisos Basin and The Window. Near the end of the trail one can look into upper Pine Canyon and the oaks that support Colima warblers most years. Without a doubt, Lost Mine Trail offers a wonderful first perspective of Big Bend National Park. The bird life during my morning hike was rather sparse, although I found two lucifer hummingbirds along the trail feeding on red-flowering mountain sage. This Mexican hummingbird is one of Big Bend's specialties because it rarely occurs elsewhere in the United States. Its long, slightly decurved bill seemed perfectly adapted for taking nectar from the elongated flowers of the mountain sage. Several broad-tailed hummingbirds, the most common hummer of the Chisos woodlands, were also utilizing the blooming sage. The most obvious birds along the Lost Mine Trail that morning included canyon wrens that sang clean, descending and decelerating songs from the rocky slopes; canyon towhees, searching the ground on the trail and the adjacent forest floor; black-chinned sparrows, singing their very distinct songs and reminding me of a bouncing ping-pong ball; and the even more common rufous-crowned sparrows, busy searching for seeds and insects on the rock-strewn forest floor. A U G U S T 8 (1966). Storm clouds built up to the north of Panther Junction during the evening, producing heavy rain in the upper Tornillo Creek drainage. I stood outside after dark until about 10:00 P.M., watching an amazing lightning show in the northern sky. I had arrived in Big Bend National Park only a few days earlier, and this was the first of many lightning storms that I was to enjoy during the next six years (see June 21

[1971]).

A U G U S T 115 I was just getting ready to go to bed when the telephone rang; it was my assistant, Bruce McHenry, calling to tell me that lower Tornillo Creek was starting to flood, and he was going to drive down to see it for himself. I told him I would pick him up in a few minutes, and forty-five minutes later we drove out onto the lower Tornillo Creek concrete bridge. The creek was indeed flooding; in fact, the creek was so filled with water that it was actually lapping onto the bridge, which was trembling from the force of the rushing water below. We immediately got back in the vehicle and backed off the bridge in case it was swept away. Then, with flashlights, we further examined the rushing water that completely filled the creekbed. What an example of desert storms! I never pass over that bridge without thinking of that night of heavy rains on the upper Tornillo Creek drainage and the depth of the resultant runoff in lower Tornillo Creek. A U G U S T 9 (1969). Today is the last of a three-day visit to Boot Spring with Steve Van Pelt, son of ant biologist Arnold Van Pelt. Steve collected ants throughout our trip, and I birded the high country and banded birds that I was able to net at Boot Spring. I recorded a total of fifty-one bird species but banded only nine individuals: one screech-owl (gray phase), two acorn woodpeckers, three western wood-pewees, two Mexican jays, and one Colima warbler. And last evening, before dark, flocks of eighteen, nine, and forty-three band-tailed pigeons passed overhead. I am not sure if these birds were migrants, moving through the Chisos Mountains, or if they were resident birds en route to roosting areas. We found lots of early fall migrants during the three days: Cooper's, sharp-shinned, and Swainson's hawks; calliope and rufous hummingbirds; olive-sided flycatcher; western wood-pewee; least and other Empidonax flycatchers; white-breasted nuthatch; solitary and warbling vireos; blackthroated gray, Townsend's, hermit, black-throated green, Grace's, and Wilson's warblers; chipping sparrow; hooded oriole; and pine siskin. We also found two vagrants, probably from south of the border: broad-billed hummingbird and northern pygmy-owl. Lucifer hummingbirds were particularly common in Boot Canyon; on the afternoon of August 9,1 recorded eight males and seven females. I also found a regal ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus regalis)just

n6 FOR ALL S E A S O N S outside the cabin our first evening. This little snake is sometimes called "thimble snake" after its habit of twisting its brilliant orange-red tail into a tight thimble or spiral when alarmed. The waving, colorful tail may attract a predator's attention away from more vulnerable parts of the snake's body. Big Bend's ringneck snake lacks the neck-ring that is typical of the more northern races. A U G U S T 11 (1966). Finding a ten-inch centipede walking across the kitchen floor was rather unexpected, to say the least. I had never before seen such a big centipede; it was ugly and menacing. I immediately captured it in a large coffee can, but, thinking that it possibly could crawl out of that, I transferred it to a large glass jar. At that point I felt more comfortable and studied it at my leisure. Each of its numerous legs (a pair for each segment) was clawed, and its mouthparts looked lethal. I later learned that Big Bend's huge centipede, known as the giant desert centipede (Scolopendra hews), is not dangerous to humans, although a bite can be painful. What's more, it seems to prefer the shelter of buildings; I was to experience these huge creatures several additional times during the six years I lived in the park. A U G U S T 12 (1967). Dusk at Boot Spring was calm and extremely quiet. Except for the lonesome "peter" call of a tufted (black-crested) titmouse downcanyon and the distant "ja-cob" call of an acorn woodpecker, the silence was complete. I watched a Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer spike buck as it slowly wandered down the wooded slope, above the cabin, watchful for predators. It approached the gated corral, where suddenly it jumped the five-foot fence into the corral, stood still for a few seconds, checking for predators or other trouble, and then proceeded to feed on the horse feed that had been hauled up there for the park's pack animals. Apparently it had done this before, because it was still feeding at dark, when a whip-poor-will began to sing on the slope across the canyon. A U G U S T 13 (1966). Today, I found my very first white-eared hummingbird. A lifer! Boot Canyon was full of bird songs when I arrived there at about 10 A.M. I walked upcanyon toward the South Rim, watching for any birds and other wildlife that might appear. Several northbound migrants, including rufous hummingbirds and Townsend's, black-throated gray, and

A U G U S T 117

Giant Desert Centipede

Wilson's warblers, were present, feeding in the oaks and maples along the canyon bottom. Hummingbirds were also taking advantage of the redflowering mountain sage that dotted the adjacent slopes. I found the white-eared hummingbird, a brightly marked male, along the east-facing slope above the check-dam. It, too, was sampling the mountain sage nectar. Its bold white eyeline, short red bill with a black tip, and deep purple-black chin and crown were obvious in the late morning light. It continued to feed at one of several mountain sages, allowing me a wonderful view for several minutes. This is a relatively small hummer, compared with the more common broad-tailed and even larger blue-throated hummingbirds that also were present along the canyon. Through binoculars, its square, rather stubby, two-tone (black and green) tail was obvious. At one time during my observations it uttered a metallic chattering call, as if it had found an especially sweet flower. I later learned that my white-eared hummingbird, normally found only in the Mexican highlands, was one of the first ever recorded in Texas; I found the species only twice in six years. A U G U S T 13 (1967). Not long after moving to Big Bend I had acquired a copy of Herbert Brandt's book Texas Bird Adventures (1940), in which he described his 1937 visit to the high Chisos Mountains. It was on that trip that Brandt discovered two new birds (subspecies), the Chisos

n8 FOR ALL S E A S O N S (white-breasted) nuthatch and Chisos (Hutton's) vireo. He and his wife had stayed at Glenn Spring (see April 15 [1969]) and packed into the higher mountains by way of Juniper Canyon and a trail that enters Boot Canyon from the ridge halfway between the spring and the "boot." I was intrigued with this early route and decided to retrace it from Boot Spring back to the Juniper Canyon Trail. By walking directly down the ridge below the cabin, I was able to follow the route (little more than a deer trail in 1967) to where it crossed the canyon. From there I found a rather steep trail up the slope to a bench, from where a fairly decent trail continued over the top and eventually joined up with the current Juniper Canyon Trail. While I followed this route it was great fun to imagine the places where Brandt had found his first "Stephens" whip-poor-will, flammulated "screech-owl," "ant-eating" acorn woodpecker, Chisos nuthatch, "Lloyd bush-tit," Chisos vireo, and painted redstart, all names in vogue at the time. A U G U S T 14 (1971). A four-hour visit to Rio Grande Village this morning produced only forty bird species; only five of these were obvious migrants: olive-sided flycatcher, western wood-pewee, warbling vireo, dickcissel, and a flock of twenty-five lark buntings. Fall migration in the lowlands was hardly evident as yet. A U G U S T 15 (1970). Summer rainstorms in the Big Bend produce more than just wildflowers and eye-flies. The recent heavy rains have also brought out multitudes of millipedes, or "thousand-legs." They can be so numerous on the roads that it is impossible to drive without running over many of them as they slowly crawl to wherever they are going. C. S. Crawford (1976) reported finding 1,302 millipedes per hectare ("a conservative estimate") during a study in 1973. When disturbed they curl up into a tight circle, leaving their hard upper surface exposed and keeping their soft underside protected. After a dry period it is possible to find thousands of dried bodies, sometimes bleached white by the sun, on the roadways. Big Bend's millipede (Orthroporus ornatus) is one of the largest known. They usually live in dark, damp places, well supplied with decaying vegetable matter, on which they feed. Millipedes possess thirty to seventy segments, each with two pairs of legs. Reproductive organs are located at

A U G U S T 119 the anterior end of the body, between the second and third pair of legs; one or both pairs of legs on the seventh segment of the male are usually modified into copulatory organs. Most species are able to give off an illsmelling, yellowish fluid through openings along the sides of the body; this fluid is sometimes strong enough to kill insects placed in ajar with the millipede. The odor is similar to cyanide. Although the odor serves as a protection against predators, it does not hurt humans. These millipedes cannot bite. A U G U S T 15 (1996). Butterflies were unusually abundant this afternoon in upper Oak Creek Canyon. A recent rainstorm had left puddles along the canyon bottom, and sulfurs and a few other butterflies were clustered on all the wet spots. I photographed one of these clusters, which contained ten species. Cloudless, orange, and dainty sulfurs were most numerous, while smaller numbers of southern dogface and sleepy orange were flying in and out. At least two California sisters, pairs of marine blues and western pygmy-blues, a lone question mark, and a gray hairstreak visited the site during the approximately twenty minutes that I watched. All these lovely creatures were gathering moisture from the still-wet soils. More than a dozen other butterflies were flying along the drainage, and I was able to identify most of them. The most obvious species that

Butterflies at Wet Spot

120 FOR ALL S E A S O N S afternoon was the huge yellow-and-black two-tailed swallowtail, always in motion over the vegetation, so I was unable to photograph one. I did, however, photograph a queen, one of the more common species; a red-spotted purple, perched on an Emory oak leaf; a goatweed leafwing, sitting on an oak limb; and a funeral duskywing that seemed to pose for me on a sotol leaf. Perhaps the most abundant butterfly along Oak Creek was the Empress Leilia, sailing high in the oaks and always on the move. Other butterflies identified that afternoon included Texan crescent; common checkered-skipper; red satyr; Mead's wood-nymph; Reakirt's blue; Leda hairstreak; Horace's and mournful duskywings; orange skipperling; and Chisos banded-skipper. This latter species is one of the park's special butterflies; it is a tropical species that is known in the United States only from the Chisos Mountains. A U G U S T 16 (1966). My first visit to Pine Canyon. National Geographic photographer James Stanfield and I spent several hours exploring this moist forest environment today. Jim was looking for representative sites to photograph for an article on Big Bend National Park that was being written by Nathaniel T. Kenney. The article—"Big Bend Jewel in the Texas Desert"—appeared in the January 1968 edition. Although none of Jim's Pine Canyon photographs were used in the article (several others were), we had a fascinating experience with a whippoor-will that we found in the canyon. I discovered this goatsucker (its family name) along the trail, well camouflaged amid the leaf litter. It flew up as I approached and landed only a few feet away. Each time we approached, it flew only a few feet before alighting again in the open. It stayed just beyond a good photo angle for a dozen or more times, continuing to move up the drainage for several hundred feet. It acted as if it was trying to lead us away from a nest, but when I searched the ground where it was first discovered, I found nothing. A U G U S T 17 (1967). I started toward Rio Grande Village this morning, but halfway there hard rain changed my mind, and I returned to Dugout Wells to see what might be going on there. As I walked the narrow trail through the cottonwoods, I suddenly came face to face with three

A U G U S T 121 young elf owls. They were sitting on a mesquite limb at eye level, less than fifteen feet away. They may have been asleep at first, and they seemed little concerned with my presence. It was a marvelous experience to find these tiny owls in the open and so close up. After a few minutes of enjoying these birds, I gradually backed away and returned to my vehicle for a camera. Within less than five minutes I was right back at the same spot, but the owls had disappeared, and although I searched the area for about half an hour, I could not find them again. A U G U S T 17 (1969). I climbed the steep slope into Campground Canyon this morning, primarily to see if any black-capped vireos might still be present. I did not find any, although I did find a lone gray vireo below the mouth of the canyon. I also found a Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer doe with two very new fawns. Both fawns were heavily spotted, and neither seemed to be able to negotiate the rocky slope very well. In fact, the doe had apparently signaled the fawns to remain still as I moved up the slope. She ran off to the left, leaving her fawns in a relatively secure location. I discovered the two fawns only because they both got up and stumbled off in the direction their mother had taken when I got to within eight or ten feet of where they lay. I might have missed them altogether if they had not run away. A U G U S T 18 (1969). Driving across Tornillo Flat today, I spotted a lone pronghorn (antelope) standing one hundred feet or so off the highway. It was the first pronghorn I had seen in the park, although I had heard reports that a few still remained in the area. I stopped my vehicle, backed up, and stared at the pronghorn. It walked off a dozen feet and turned to watch me; it seemed as curious about me as I was about it. Scoping the surrounding terrain with binoculars, I could not find any others, so I assumed it was alone. Later, I learned that 136 head of pronghorn had been released in various locations in the park's lowlands in 1947 and 1948 in an attempt to restore this grassland species. The native population had disappeared from the area after cattle were introduced into the lush grasslands during the i88os. Overuse of certain areas, such as Tornillo Flat, had eliminated not only most of the soil-stabilizing grasses but also the native pronghorn.

122 FOR ALL S E A S O N S It will undoubtedly take many years before the grasslands recover sufficiently, at least in the Tornillo Flat area, to support more than an occasional pronghorn. A U G U S T 21 (1968). Tarantulas are commonplace along the roads and throughout the desert now. I counted more than two dozen of these large, hairy spiders on the road this morning between Panther Junction and Dugout Wells. Tarantula hawks (Pepsis formosa) also are fairly numerous; I encountered one of these large orange and velvet-blue wasps dragging a midsize tarantula across the loop road at Dugout. Tarantulas require four or five years to reach maturity, growing a little each year. I guessed that my midsize spider was three to four years of age. The wasp apparently had already subdued the tarantula, as it was not defending itself in the slightest. I followed the wasp's slow progress for more than an hour. The wasp never did attempt to fly off with the tarantula but pulled and tugged it over the rough, rocky terrain for about 120 feet. Finally it reached a hole in the ground that it apparently had already enlarged enough to hold its prey; tiny bits of stone and dirt were strewn about on the adjacent surface. I watched as the wasp backed into the hole, reached back and grabbed the tarantula, and pulled it down into the chamber. I knew that it would then deposit eggs into the body of the spider, which was still alive although completely paralyzed by the sting of the tarantula hawk. The eggs would soon hatch into tiny larvae that would feed on the body of the tarantula. Young wasps eventually emerge from the fully consumed and by-thendead spider. A U G U S T 22 (1971). Fall migrants are more numerous now at Rio Grande Village. This morning I recorded a total of forty-four bird species, of which eight were obvious migrants: American kestrel; spotted sandpiper; western wood-pewee; Townsend's and Wilson's warblers; northern waterthrush; western tanager; and chipping sparrow. A U G U S T 24 (1967). En route to the Chisos Basin this morning I noticed three mule deer standing around a Torrey yucca in lower Green Gulch. I pulled off the road in the first possible space and walked back down the road to where I could see what they were doing. I discovered that

A U G U S T 123

Tarantula Hawk with Tarantula they were tearing leaves off the yucca and eating the fleshy parts. I had never seen deer eat yucca before, and I wondered what nourishment they required to seek out this sharp-leaved plant when green grass seemed so abundant. I also wondered about the leverage necessary to pull yucca leaves off the plant, as they were doing. Later in the day I tried to tear some of the long green leaves from a Torrey yucca at Panther Junction; I found it impossible. A U G U S T 25 (1970). I found a lone spotted sandpiper, my first for the fall, this morning at the lower sewage lagoon in the Chisos Basin. Other obvious migrants seen in the area included a rufous hummingbird, American robin, warbling vireo, Townsend's warbler, and western tanager. The spring and summer rains had produced thickets of vegetation in the drainage below the lagoons that apparently were suitable for crissal thrashers and varied buntings. Both these species were present in substantial numbers. A U G U S T 26 (1969). I spent a good part of the day orienting Paul Whitson to the Chisos Basin, Oak Spring, and Cattail Falls, all areas adversely affected by increasing park visitation. Paul was about to undertake an assessment of the impacts to the park resources from visitor use in the Chisos Mountains. Although a preliminary report on his findings was submitted to the National Park Service in 1970, his final report, titled The Im-

124 FOR ALL S E A S O N S pact of Human Use upon the Chisos Basin and Adjacent Lands, did not appear until 1974. His principal recommendations included the phasing out of all use of horses on the mountain trails and the reduction of visitor and employee accommodations in the Basin, accompanied by a "vigorous rehabilitation-revegetation program" (1974: 70), using the appropriate indigenous plants, throughout. A U G U S T 27 (1967). I spent the evening with renowned scorpion specialist Dr. Willis J. Gertsch. I was amazed how easily Dr. Gertsch located these nocturnal creatures with a black light. We simply walked about in the Chisos Basin, shining the light ahead of us, and the scorpions stood out like diamonds. In a little over two hours we located several specimens of what was later reported as a new but widespread species, Uroctonus apacheanus (Gertsch and Soleglad 1972). This scorpion occurs from Arizona's Chiricahua Mountains east to the Chisos Mountains. The 1972 publication also includes a new species—Vejovis waueri— that Gertsch named for yours truly. This little scorpion is native only to Terrell County, Texas, and south into Mexico to the states of Sonora and Nuevo Leon. A U G U S T 28 (1966). The Window Trail in the early morning hours was cool and bright. Bird activity was exceptional. The oak trees were busy with acorn woodpeckers, band-tailed pigeons, and Mexican jays, all searching for acorns. Scott's oriole songs filled the air; their clear whistle-notes echoed off the rocky face of Pulliam Ridge. The bird of the morning, however, was a pair of varied buntings that were feeding two clumsy youngsters. I had located them at about the halfway point on the trail, where it passes through the brushy canyon bottom. I had heard their songs as I approached, but instead of finding a singing male, I discovered a pair of birds, actively searching the thicket for insects, which they then shoved down the throats of two begging youngsters. They could only have been out of the nest for a day or less, as they could barely manage to sit upright and beg. Mouths agape and their stubby wings fluttering each time a parent came near, they reminded me of some kind of fluffy squeeze-toy. The female bunting was a rather drab brown creature, lacking any

A U G U S T 125 wing-bars at all. The male, however, more than made up for its plain partner, as it sported a variety of exquisite colors, including a cinnamon red nape, red throat and breast, black face, blue-violet rump, and purplishblue underparts and back. In sunlight, the subtle colors gave it an almost surrealistic appearance. A truly gorgeous bird on a beautiful August morning. A U G U S T 29 (1970). I spent much of the day birding and banding at Rio Grande Village. I detected a total of fifty-seven species, and I netted, banded, and released fifteen birds of thirteen species: one least and two dusky flycatchers; one great crested flycatcher; one BelPs vireo; one orange-crowned warbler; one American redstart; one common yellowthroat; one Wilson's warbler; one yellow-breasted chat; one summer and one western tanager; one northern cardinal; and two painted buntings. A U G U S T 30 (1969). The kit fox is extremely rare in Big Bend National Park, and so finding one of these little carnivores along the roadside near the Old Ranch was a real treat. From a distance I was not at first sure whether it was a jackrabbit, a very young gray fox, or a kit fox. But as I came closer, and it turned sideways and looked at me, there was no doubt of its identity. Its tiny size and huge ears were unmistakable. That was my one and only sighting of this mammal in the park. Very little is known about the kit fox in Texas, although David Schmidly's book, The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas (1977), provides some basic life history insights. According to Schmidly, pairs establish pair bonds in October and November, breeding occurs from December to February, litters of four to five pups are born in March or April, and parental care continues for four to five months. Their diet consists of rodents, especially kangaroo rats, rabbits, small birds, and insects. He adds that records in the Trans-Pecos are scarce, as this little fox "is particularly vulnerable to predatory control measures aimed primarily at the coyote" (Schmidly 1977:135).

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SEPTEMBER S E P T E M B E R i (1970). Heavy rain fell all night. The storm had moved into the park from the southeast, and so I drove down to Rio Grande Village to see if any unusual birds were present. Although I recorded a total of sixty-four species in four hours, none were unusual for this time of year. Obvious migrants included blue-winged and green-winged teal; American kestrel; spotted sandpiper; sora; western wood-pewee; least and dusky flycatchers; eastern kingbird; tree and bank swallows; crissal thrasher; yellow, Townsend's, and Wilson's warblers; western tanager; chipping and lark sparrows; dickcissel; and yellowheaded blackbird.

Greater Roadrunner

128 FOR ALL S E A S O N S S E P T E M B E R % (1968). I stopped at Cottonwood Campground at noon to eat lunch. Sitting at one of the tables, I noticed a greater roadrunner walking along the edge of the grassy plot. It stopped now and then to look about, each time raising its long tail up and down. I watched it for several minutes, wondering if my presence was disturbing it in some way. It seemed to totally ignore me. It suddenly changed its behavior and began "creeping" forward, low to the ground with its tail extended, as if to give it better balance. Then, as if shot from a cannon, it swiftly ran and flew another five or six feet and grabbed a bird sitting on the ground that I had not previously seen. Not until the roadrunner had a strong grip on the bird did I recognize it as a young yellow-billed cuckoo. The roadrunner held the cuckoo down with one of its strong feet and whacked it several times with its large, heavy bill. By the second or third blow I couldn't detect any further resistance from the cuckoo. After another four or five whacks, the roadrunner picked up the apparently dead cuckoo in its bill and rapidly walked away. S E P T E M B E R 3 (1971)' Today was day one of a five-day river trip through the Lower Canyons of the Rio Grande, starting from La Linda and leaving the river at Dryden Crossing. The trip was planned and led by Bob Burleson and colleagues (John Baker, Tom Cowden, Ken Jennings, Ralph Jennings, Les Redman, David Riskind, Bill Salmi, and Tom Sedberry), principally to introduce a number of government officials to the significant resources of the Lower Canyons. Participating officials included Red Arnold and Arthur Stewart of the Bureau of Outdoor Recreation (BOR); Regan Bradshaw, Texas Parks and Wildlife magazine; Joe Friedkin, International Boundary and Water Commission; John Sypulski, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service; and myself, representing the National Park Service. It was a wonderful trip, and the 1971 Labor Day weekend will always be a memorable one to me because it marked my first trip through the Lower Canyons. Sites between Black Gap and Pinky Carruther's Bonewatering Crossing now are more to me than place-names on a map. Maravillas Creek marks the end of the northerly stretch of the river, which, below this tributary, flows southeasterly toward the Gulf of Mexico.

S E P T E M B E R 129 Dr. Robert T. Hill, following his 1899 trip through the Lower Canyon, was one of the first to describe the Maravillas Creek area: A horrible desert arroyo, leading northward for one hundred miles or more to Marathon . . . Now and then, in the intervals of years, great floods pour down its stony bottom, giving the boulders and other debris a further push toward the Rio Grande and the sea. Such floods, however, are so unusual and sporadic that I have never found a man who knew this stream to run from source to mouth. (1901:372) Just across from our Black Gap put-in spot is Castle Butte, a prominent landmark on the Mexican side of the river. Bob Burleson, our capable river guide, cook, and historian, told us about the legend of "the lost Negro mine." The Reagan brothers, early Big Bend ranchers, sent their black handyman out to round up some lost horses in the vicinity of Castle Butte. Although he didn't find the horses, after a long time the handyman returned to the ranch with his pockets bursting with gold nuggets. The brothers took his gold and chastised him for returning without the horses. Legend has it that he became fearful for his safety and fled the camp. Later, when the gold was assayed and found to be of exceptionally high grade, the cowboys went looking for the handyman, who had disappeared. Although an extensive search for more of the valuable ore was undertaken, the mine was never found. J. Frank Dobie also tells this story, although in a slightly different form, in Coronado's Children (1981). Below Maravillas Creek, the Rio Grande flows through an area romantically known as Las Vegas de los Ladrones (Outlaw Flat) for several miles before approaching the spectacular cliffs of Big Canyon. Below Big Canyon the river flows through spectacular canyons for the next forty or fifty miles. We camped below Asa Jones' waterworks the second night. Asa, a local rancher during the first half of the century, built this ingenious pumping device to haul water from a spring at the water's edge to the top of the cliff. Two series of pipelines between pumping stations carried the valuable water to a holding tank almost a thousand feet above the river. Other water tanks located about the ranch were then supplied by this one.

130 FOR ALL S E A S O N S A candelilla wax camp, complete with tanks andjacal ruins, still lies adjacent to the holding tank at the top of the cliff. We were able to climb to all this via an old trail cut into the cliff face. The historic site and the view from on top would have made a hike ten times as long worth the time and effort. Just below the waterworks is a large hot spring and one of the largest rapids on the Rio Grande. Although Hot Spring Rapids doesn't compare with Santa Elena Canyon's Rock Slide Rapids, it has all the excitement of "big river" rapids. About fifty yards below this point, on the Mexican side of the river, is the hot spring. Needless to say, we all utilized this beautiful warm pond to fill our jugs and to bathe our dirty bodies. Small fish (Mexican tetras) living in the spring constantly nibbled on the bathers. We departed with a relaxed spirit and a desire to see more of this rugged canyon country. Burro Bluff rises more than twelve hundred feet in a sheer cliff directly above Upper Madison and Burro Bluff Rapids and our third night's campsite. At the downstream side of the bluff is an old trail built for access to the Texas side. The Schupbach Trail (pronounced "Shipoe" and named for Parge Schupbach, an early settler) winds upward to a view up and down the river that is reminiscent of the view into Utah's Goosenecks of the San Juan. The canyon comes in from Mexico with only a very narrow wall between it and the river. It was the most exciting part of the trip to me. Although rapids have their special brand of excitement, there is nothing like a grandiose view from the top of the world. Even the beautiful and fascinating places beyond Burro Bluff, such as Horseshoe Falls, Panther Canyon, and San Francisco Creek, did not compare with the inspiring views from the heights of Burro Bluff. I returned home with a great deal more understanding and respect for the Big Bend Country and its varied topography of river and canyons. Hill described the Lower Canyons best when he said, "The sculpture is marked by queer, eccentric pinnacles projecting above the ragged skyline ... spires, fingers, needles, natural bridges and every conceivable form of peaked and curved rocks" (1901:371). S E P T E M B E R 5 (1969). I spent most of the day at Rio Grande Village,

S E P T E M B E R 131 birding (sixty-seven species) and banding. I placed six mist nets at strategic places along the little drainage on the east side of the campground just north of the nature trail. There was lots of movement through the area, and I captured, banded, and released a total of seventeen birds of nine species: one common ground-dove, one Townsend's warbler, one common yellowthroat, five yellow-breasted chats, three summer tanagers, three northern cardinals, one painted bunting, one dickcissel, and one orchard oriole. S E P T E M B E R 7 (1969). I found a porcupine at about 4,100 feet elevation in Green Gulch today. It was only the second porcupine recorded for the park; I had found one on the Rio Grande Village nature trail on September 9,1967. With both these sightings in early September, I could not help but wonder if this is the time of year that the species is inclined to wander. Finding a porcupine in the center of the Chihuahuan desert was totally unexpected. I had always considered porcupines an animal of the coniferous forests, where they can find plenty of cambium, the inner, living layers of tree bark, to eat. The fact that they are able to survive a long and slow trek from one mountain range to the other, across an arid landscape dominated by creosotebush, tarbush, and acacias, is remarkable. S E P T E M B E R 8 (1968). Rain dominated my two-day trip to Boot Spring, although I recorded fifty-two bird species. Many of these birds were migrants: sharp-shinned hawk; rufous hummingbird; olive-sided flycatcher; western wood-pewee; several Empidonax flycatchers; house wren; hermit thrush; solitary vireo; orange-crowned, yellow-rumped, blackthroated gray, Townsend's, black-and-white, and Wilson's warblers; western tanager; and chipping sparrow. A few Colima warblers were still present in Boot Canyon, as well. S E P T E M B E R 11 (1970). I recorded seventy-two species of birds at Rio Grande Village this morning, including eight white-faced ibises, the first park record. Storms in South Texas that had recently brought stormy and cooler weather to West Texas were also probably responsible for the presence of this bird of the coastal wetlands. I found these long-billed birds walking along an irrigation ditch searching for food. A few individuals remained in the area through September 18.

132 FOR ALL S E A S O N S S E P T E M B E R 12 (1972). Roy McBride captured and collared a mountain lion just outside the park in the Black Gap Wildlife Management Area today. It was the first of seven mountain lions that he was to catch and collar with radio transmitters, part of a long-term study of mountain lions within the Texas Big Bend country. Roy had worked for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as an animal control specialist for several years, and he was now going back to college to earn a master's degree at Sul Ross State University in Alpine. I had been instrumental in encouraging the study in and around the park and had written to my friend Clarence Cottam, director of the Welder Wildlife Foundation, in support of the foundation's funding of Roy's project. This study contributed considerable new information about mountain lions in the Big Bend. The adult female mountain lion, locally known as a "panther," that was collared on September 12 was subsequently located on fifteen occasions during the next year. It first moved north twenty-five miles from its capture site, then southeast twenty miles, northeast twenty miles, then east and south into Mexico for about fifty miles before recrossing the Rio Grande back into Black Gap. An adult male, collared along the Rio Grande near Bullis Gap on September 20, immediately crossed into Mexico for about thirty-five miles, then doubled back to near where it had been captured, then moved northwest twenty-five miles, returned about eighty-five miles into Mexico, and then headed northwest for fifty miles back into Texas. Male lions generally were found to cover more extensive areas than females. Roy reported that mountain lion diets in the Trans-Pecos consisted primarily of deer (49 percent), with porcupine and javelina next at 16 and 6 percent, respectively. Domestic livestock (horses, sheep, and goats) made up 13 percent of their diet, and the remaining ingredients were unidentifiable or included various smaller mammals, including coyotes, skunks, and ringtails. Roy also pointed out that in areas of prey abundance, a lion may kill daily, but when food is scarce it will kill only every few days, remaining near the carcass until it has consumed it. He stated that a lion "probably has the same impact on a deer herd whether the deer are overly abundant, or relatively scarce. The regulating factor that prevents lions from killing

S E P T E M B E R 133 too many deer in one area is a restless nature that causes them to hunt over such a tremendous area, and still maintain adequate space between themselves and other lions" (McBride 1974: 106). In a natural area such as Big Bend National Park, available water also is a controlling factor in deer numbers, hence mountain lion populations as well. S E P T E M B E R 15 (1969). The park's maintenance men were irrigating the cottonwoods at Cottonwood Campground today; water flooded the majority of the sites. Although campsites were limited, birds were present in higher than normal numbers, taking advantage of the situation. Several species were fly-catching over the flooded grounds: black-chinned hummingbird; western wood-pewee; Say's and black phoebes; vermilion, ashthroated, brown-crested, dusky, and least flycatchers; ruby-crowned kinglet; Bell's vireo; northern parula; Nashville, Virginia's, yellow, yellowrumped, Townsend's, and Wilson's warblers; summer tanager; and Bullock's oriole. Other species were chasing prey in or about the ponds: spotted sandpiper; white-winged and mourning doves; common ground-dove; northern mockingbird; crissal thrasher; northern cardinal; pyrrhuloxia; painted bunting; dickcissel; chipping, white-crowned, and Lincoln's sparrows; and Brewer's and yellow-headed blackbirds. It was a busy morning. S E P T E M B E R 16 (1970). Heavy rains had fallen throughout the park during the last two days; this morning was overcast but dry. In four hours of birding at Rio Grande Village, I recorded a total of sixty-eight species, good evidence that the fall migration is near its peak. Obvious migrants included great blue and green herons; cattle egret; yellow-crowned night-heron; white-faced ibis; American kestrel; blue-winged and green-winged teal; northern pintail; lesser yellowlegs; spotted and least sandpipers; sora; belted kingfisher; western wood-pewee; olive-sided, least, dusky, and great crested flycatchers; eastern kingbird; Nashville and Wilson's warblers; American redstart; western tanager; lark sparrow; lark bunting; dickcissel; and yellow-headed blackbird. S E P T E M B E R 17 (1968). Rio Grande Village was alive with sparrows this morning. Recent rains had created extensive areas of new grass, and there were plenty of seeding plants. The mesquite-dominated flats that surround the campgrounds had changed from the typical bare ground to a

134 FOR ALL S E A S O N S lush meadowlike habitat. Clay-colored sparrows were most numerous. I had never before or since seen so many of these attractive little sparrows. It seemed like the entire North American population had suddenly descended on the Rio Grande floodplain at Rio Grande Village. But clay-coloreds were not alone. During my four-hour survey of the Rio Grande Village area I recorded a total of forty-four bird species; seven of these were sparrows and allies: chipping, clay-colored, field, lark, blackthroated, and Lincoln's sparrows, and lark bunting. S E P T E M B E R 18 (1968). Today was exceptional! I found a blackvented oriole at Rio Grande Village this morning. This was to become the first black-vented oriole ever documented for the United States. I observed it for only a few minutes in the dense vegetation along the nature trail; then I was unable to find it again. I immediately documented its key features in my field notes, since I was unsure of its identity: "all black head, back and chest, also tail and crissum; orange-red belly and rump; black bill." Since Peterson and ChaliPs field guide to Mexican birds (1973) was not yet available, I instead referred to Emmet Blake's Birds of Mexico (1953) and George Sutton's Mexican Birds—First Impressions (1951) for help with identification. I was finally able to identify my discovery as "Wagler's Oriole," an earlier name for the black-vented oriole. But since I was not able to find the bird on several follow-up visits and I lacked adequate photographs and additional verification by other birders, my observation was put aside. However, almost seven months later, on April 28,1969, it reappeared. S E P T E M B E R 19 (1970). Today I took a one-day hike to Boot Spring via the Pinnacles and returned through Laguna Meadow. I recorded a total of forty-eight bird species in all, including a lone olive warbler at Boot Spring. It was one of the first Texas sightings. I was initially attracted to this warbler by the finchlike chips it was making as it fed among the foliage of an Arizona cypress tree next to the cabin. I immediately realized that the notes were very different from what I normally detected in Boot Canyon. It took me several minutes to find the perpetrator, which suddenly appeared in the open about fifty feet away from where I had been sitting, eating lunch at the picnic table. It was a brightly marked adult male with a tawny-brown head and breast, bold black

S E P T E M B E R 135 ear-patches, and a dark back and wings with pairs of white wing bars. This was my first and only sighting of an olive warbler in the park. This warbler is reasonably common in the coniferous forests of Mexico's Maderas del Carmen, fifty miles southeast of the Chisos Mountains. Finding it at Boot Canyon at that time of year suggests that it was a postnesting wanderer. There was one earlier report for the park; Charles Bender and William Mealy had found one on the South Rim on August 19, 1966. The only fully documented Texas record is one photographed in the Davis Mountains on May 19,1992 (Texas Bird Records Committee 1995). S E P T E M B E R 23 (1966). This morning I investigated a report of a canyon towhee nest inside an oatmeal box on a shelf in a garage at one of the Basin residences. Sure enough, this all-brown towhee had constructed its grass and hair nest inside the round cardboard container, and three healthy babies were actively begging for handouts when I arrived. A pair of canyon towhees chipped at me during my examination, running back and forth on the garage floor in alarm. I had never heard of such an odd location for a canyon towhee nest, although the nest itself was comparable to that described in Richard Headstrom's Birds' Nests of the West (1951). Headstrom points out that their nests are "usually within 10 feet; sometimes in dense clumps of cholla, in sage, greasewood, or cactus, or between yucca leaves" (1951: 127). Apparently, Chisos Basin towhees are opportunists that have learned to take advantage of all their surroundings. S E P T E M B E R 24 (1966). Herpetologist Roger Conant and I hiked to Boot Spring today, watching for snakes and lizards. Our three-day trip was designed so that Roger might sample the Chisos Mountain herpetofauna and also acquire a first-hand perspective of this unique mountain environment. He was in the process of revising his earlier field guide, ^4 Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of Eastern North America (1958), which included all of North America east of the 100th meridian. He planned to add the remainder of Texas, including all of the Big Bend country. The revised book (1975) includes all fifty-five reptiles (four turtles, twentyone lizards, and thirty snakes) and ten amphibians known in Big Bend National Park.

136 FOR ALL S E A S O N S

Mottled Rock Rattlesnake

I am forever amazed at the number of reptiles that a herpetologist can find in the field that a birder or someone with other interests never sees. My eyes were constantly on the lookout for birds, while Roger was constantly looking for snakes and lizards. He managed to find a dozen or more individuals that I missed altogether. For instance, Roger located a fine example of the mottled rock rattlesnake in a talus pile along the northern slope of Emory Peak. I had never before seen this colorful little snake. About twenty inches in length, it was an overall pinkish color, mottled with blackish pigment. The species also possesses a dark stripe that runs from the eye to the angle of the mouth. The mottled rock rattler found that day was later photographed by Isabelle Conant. Her photograph was utilized to illustrate the species (plate 36) in Roger's revised book. S E P T E M B E R 25 (1967). Migrants were common along the Rio Grande this morning between Castolon and Santa Elena Canyon. I recorded sixty species in three hours, including a number of water birds: two great blue herons, forty-three blue-winged teal, fifteen green-winged teal, two gadwalls, and fifteen American avocets. The avocets, resting on a mud island below Cottonwood Campground, flew up as I approached. Their black-and-white pattern and rusty necks, upturned bill, and long legs provided an odd appearance along the green-edged riverway.

S E P T E M B E R 137 Also at Cottonwood Campground, the mesquites and small cottonwoods were filled with songbirds. More than a dozen Wilson's warblers, nearly as many Nashville warblers, and a variety of other neotropical migrants—black-and-white warblers; western tanagers; blue grosbeaks; Brewer's blackbirds; and clay-colored, Brewer's, and lark sparrows—were all present and active. S E P T E M B E R 28 (1968). I discovered tonight that javelinas love spaghetti. Yesterday my wife had fixed a huge bowl of spaghetti, as we had invited friends for dinner. The dinner was postponed at the last minute when they left the park for a few days due to a death in the family. Although we ate huge helpings that first night, it was not as appealing the second night, and I decided to throw what was left outside for the javelinas that came by to drink every evening. At about 9:00 P.M., a javelina family of eight (two adults, three subadults, and three young of the year) appeared outside the dining room window. The adults immediately approached the spaghetti, sniffed it once or twice, and then began to roll in the stringy, gooey stuff. Within seconds they were covered from head to tail. Both adults seemed to thoroughly enjoy rolling in the starchy material. The remainder of the family sniffed at the spaghetti a few times, but they did not seem to appreciate it as much as the adults did. Although some of the spaghetti was undoubtedly eaten, the majority disappeared among the matted hair of the two adults. An hour later, when they all wandered away, the entire mass of spaghetti was gone. S E P T E M B E R 29 (1970). Migration continues in the lowlands; I recorded a total of sixty bird species this morning at Rio Grande Village. Obvious migrants included pied-billed grebe; great egret; green heron; cinnamon teal; osprey; northern harrier; American kestrel; killdeer; spotted and Baird's sandpipers; common snipe; sora; belted kingfisher; western wood-pewee; Cassin's kingbird; cliff swallow; ruby-crowned kinglet; house wren; orange-crowned, Nashville, yellow-rumped (Audubon's), and Wilson's warblers; American redstart; chipping, clay-colored, lark, and savannah sparrows; and Brewer's blackbird.

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OCTOBER O C T O B E R i (1968). I had a most unusual mountain lion experience this evening. I had hiked to Boot Spring in the late afternoon, and after a fast dinner from a can, I had continued upcanyon to the South Rim. The sunset was less than average; rain clouds blocked the view. In fact, it had rained most of the day, and the ground was still wet. On the way back to the Boot Spring cabin, where I was to spend the night, I had to use a flashlight most of the way.

Boot Canyon View

140 FOR ALL S E A S O N S At about the halfway point on the trail, still above the Juniper Canyon Trail junction, I discovered fresh mountain lion tracks, going both up and down the trail. On closer inspection, I found that several were on top of the boot tracks I had made a couple hours earlier. I immediately backtracked to the point where the lion, following my tracks, had stopped and turned back, probably when it heard me coming back down the trail. I was then able to follow its tracks to where it had left the trail and climbed up the slope into the forested woodland. Whether it had actually been following me or its route lay only coincidentally with mine, I will never know. I wondered how close it had been, and if I could have seen it if I had been looking farther down the trail. That incident was exciting and rather chilling at the same time. O C T O B E R 4 (1970). After three rainy days, it was good to get back out on the trail. The day was clear, calm, and cool, and the Window Trail was filled with bird song. I walked down the trail from the campground and later returned to the campground via Oak Creek and the service road. Of thirty-seven bird species detected on my hike, the most unusual was a male Allen's hummingbird that I found feeding on a tree tobacco just below the sewage lagoons. I sat on a nearby rock and studied this bird from about sixty-five feet for about twenty minutes as it fed on the tubular flowers. Its orange-red gorget, metallic green crown and back, and reddish brown tail were obvious in the sunlight. All the while it was feeding it made little buzzing sounds. I was even able to compare it with a male rufous hummingbird that briefly visited the tree tobacco, driving the Allen's away for a short time. Although there have been a few more recent reports of this West Coast hummer in Texas, this was one of the first for the state and the first for Big Bend National Park. O C T O B E R 5 (1968). I hiked to Boot Spring today with Pete Sanchez, long-time friend and colleague. It was obvious that the fall migration in the mountains had declined; of thirty-seven bird species recorded, the vast majority were permanent residents and winter visitors. Only a few were migrants, and only four were warblers: a few orange-crowned, Townsend's, yellow-rumped, and Wilson's. Pete is not a birder, and he was far more interested in geology and

O C T O B E R 141 photography, so we spent a good part of the day talking about the geological history of the Chisos Mountains. We found considerable remains of ash, clay, sandstone, and conglomerates, as well as the more pervasive lava that once covered the area. The major mountain peaks, such as Emory, Toll, and Vernon Bailey Peaks, Casa Grande, and the Pinnacles, are all remnants of volcanic materials exposed by erosion. The East, South, and West Rims are evidence of the massive layers of lava that once covered all the highlands. Ross Maxwell, geologist, the first park superintendent, and author, includes the following description in his Big Bend Country: Between Mesa de Anguila on the west and the Santiago-Sierra del Carmen ranges in the east is a Sunken Block, or rift valley, about forty miles wide. Most of the rift valley is floored by rocks of Gulfian age, about 70 to 125 million years old. Near the Sunken Block's center are the Chisos Mountains, a domal uplift of Tertiary rocks and intrusive igneous rocks about 30 to 70 million years old. The Chisos Mountains rise as a great rocky knot, some two thousand feet above the highest part of the mountain ridges on either side. (1985:36) O C T O B E R 8 (1970). It was extremely windy this morning at Rio Grande Village, and my morning's bird list included only thirty species. The strong wind apparently kept many birds from flying. I found six species of waterfowl—green-winged, blue-winged, and cinnamon teal; northern pintail; American wigeon; and ruddy duck—huddled out of the wind below the U.S. bank of the Rio Grande. Most interesting was the number of cinnamon teal; I counted ninety-one individuals in four flocks. O C T O B E R 10 (1969). Beavers were unusually active this morning at Rio Grande Village; perhaps it was because the day was overcast and rainy, and they were not yet ready to retire for the day. I found three individuals, two adults and what appeared to be a slightly smaller cub, along the riverbank above the Daniel Ranch. My presence did not seem to unduly disturb them, although each time they passed the point where I was standing, they made a wide detour out into the river. They apparently had a den under a large growth of cane in the near bank. I have never seen a "typical" beaver lodge in the park; Big Bend beavers utilize dens in the riverbank. Beaver cuttings are rare at Rio Grande Village, although an occasional cottonwood or willow tree is felled by one of these industrious mammals.

142 FOR ALL S E A S O N S

Beaver on Riverbank

For instance, the cottonwoods growing around the pond (often dry) at the northeast corner of the campground rarely grow very large because they are constantly trimmed by beavers. The park maintenance crew, at both Rio Grande Village and Cottonwood Campground, must put mesh wire around the base of newly planted cottonwoods. Although cottonwoods and willows are the beavers' preferred food source, they have also learned to feed on salt cedar saplings, acacias, and seepwillow. The limited amount of cottonwoods and willows along the entire length of the Rio Grande in the park and Lower Canyons undoubtedly limits their numbers. P. I. V. Strong and John Bissonette (1981) found beavers active along 49 percent of the river between Santa Elena and Boquillas Canyons, and they estimated that population at 134 individuals. O C T O B E R 11 (1966). A black-tailed rattlesnake frightened the daylights out of me today. Just as I was entering Laguna Meadow, a huge blacktail rattled almost at my feet, reared up, and was ready to strike if I took another step. My reaction was instantaneous, and my heartbeat must have doubled. As soon as I moved back out of danger, it crawled into the nearby brush but continued its warning rattle. I had come to within a step of being struck by that huge poisonous reptile.

O C T O B E R 143 Black-tailed rattlesnakes are fairly common (for snakes) throughout the park; they have been recorded from the lowest to the highest elevations. They can readily be identified by their all-black tail. The western diamondback and Mohave rattlesnakes have a black-and-white banded tail, and the park's other two rattlesnakes—prairie and rock—lack either a banded or black tail. The prairie rattlesnake has dark cross-bands on its body and a whitish line above the corners of its mouth; the rock rattlesnake (also see September 24 [1966]) has a mottled appearance and a dark stripe from its eye to the angle of its mouth. O C T O B E R 13 (1969). Early this morning I drove north from Panther Junction, through Persimmon Gap, out of the park, and then back on State Highway 2627 toward La Linda. I turned off the highway onto the Adams Ranch Road and drove to a point where I could hike back into the park onto the eastern slope of the Dead Horse Mountains. I spent the remainder of the day hiking toward the highest ridges, recording the birds and cacti that I found. I detected twenty-two birds and fourteen cactus species. Texas rainbow cactus was the only truly abundant cactus I found that day, while dog cholla, Engelmann's pricklypear, Texas cactus, and cob cactus were commonplace. Tasajillo and living rock were fairly common. I found seven species in smaller numbers: strawberry cactus, devil's head, devil's claw, Turk's head, sea-urchin cactus, and pancake pincushion, and, at the ridgetop in a small stand of pinyons and junipers, a single biscuit cactus. None of these plants were flowering at this time of year. O C T O B E R 16 (1971). I hiked to Quail and Neville Springs today to survey the spring flow, cacti, and bird life en route. These two springs are located southeast of the Grapevine Hills, but I approached them from the highway near Hannold Hill. I found a total of thirteen cactus species. Most common were tasajillo; brownspine and purple-tinged pricklypears; brown-flowered and strawberry cacti; devil's head; and cob cactus. Less numerous cacti included Engelmann's pricklypear; slender-spined and Texas rainbow pitayas; mountain cob cactus; long mamma; and nipple cactus. Tasajillo, also known as pencil cholla or Christmas cactus because of the bright red fruits that appear at about Christmastime, was truly abun-

144 F°R ALL SEASONS dant. This is a small cholla that is readily identified by its size and the yellow sheaths that cover each of its half-inch- to inch-long spines. The sheaths can actually be pulled off. In spring, moderately large, yellowishgreen flowers appear along the slender stems. Neville Spring was completely dry, although Quail Spring was flowing about three hundred yards (see November 26 [1967] for details about the spring survey). Grasses and seepwillow were common along the edge. Bird life was most abundant in the vicinity of Quail Spring, although I encountered a few individuals throughout the area. I recorded twenty-one species in all: turkey vulture; American kestrel; scaled quail; greater roadrunner; verdin; ruby-crowned kinglet; cactus and rock wrens; black-tailed gnatcatcher; northern mockingbird; sage and crissal thrashers; loggerhead shrike; yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warbler; pyrrhuloxia; canyon and green-tailed towhees; black-throated sparrow; lark bunting; house finch; and lesser goldfinch. O C T O B E R 18 (1968). Today was overcast and cool at Rio Grande Village, but it produced the very best fall birding I have experienced. There appears to be a second surge of fall migrants in mid-October. In about four hours, I recorded seventy-three species, including a few unusual records. Most exciting was the flock of six or eight Sprague's pipits, found on the grassy flat north of the campground; I had not seen this bird in the park before. This grassland bird is readily identified by its distinct behavior; when disturbed, it will suddenly take flight, ascend rapidly a hundred feet or more, fly a short distance, and then drop almost like a rock back to earth. I also found a pair of scaled quail with eight tiny youngsters following the adults in a line, one after the other; this is rather late in the season for young quail. I also discovered a pair of wood ducks at the silt pond; the male was a gorgeous creature. That was the first time I had found this species in the park. Finally, I recorded a total of eleven species of sparrows: Cassin's, chipping, clay-colored, Brewer's, field, vesper, lark, blackthroated, savannah, grasshopper, and Lincoln's. The late-summer and fall rains had produced an excellent grass seed crop on the otherwise barren flats, and these seed-eaters were taking advantage of the plentiful food supply.

Giant Daggers bloom in late March.

View of the Sierra Quemada, including Elephant Tusk (far left), from the South Rim.

View from the Rio Grande Village Nature Trail, looking west up the Rio Grande to Hot Springs Canyon and the Chisos Mountains.

The Chisos Basin in 1969, showing the old cabins, corral, ranger station, service station, and store, and the new motel units and lodge.

View of the South Rim (7,200 ft) from along the East Rim Trail.

Black-tailed Rattlesnake close-up. This venomous snake is fairly common in the Big Bend.

Mule Deer buck in the desert near Panther Junction.

A banded Colima Warbler being held by the author, who studied this bird extensively from ig66 to 1972.

Catclaw Cactus is one of the park's "fish-hooked" cacti.

O C T O B E R 145 O C T O B E R 18 (1970). At 9:oo A.M. I arrived at Hot Springs, where Bernice and Jack McGee, Bernice and Charles Nickles, and Donald and Reba Uzzell greeted me like longtime friends. Actually, I had never met any of these folks before, although I had been corresponding with the Nickleses for the last several months regarding fragments of a bizarre "clay tablet," containing thirteen lines of seventy alphabet-like characters, that Donald had found at Hot Springs eight years earlier. Photographs of the complete tablet taken that day had later been sent to several ancient-language professors, who considered the tablet authentic. Our meeting on that Sunday morning was to reenact the discovery, to acquire additional pieces that might have been missed, and also to obtain additional photographs for an article that the McGees were writing for the magazine True West (1972). After general introductions and a brief discussion of what we hoped to accomplish, we crossed the trickling flow of Tornillo Creek and approached the high limestone bank beyond, where Donald began to search for the discovery site. It took almost an hour before he rediscovered the L-shaped tunnel, approximately thirty feet up the steep slope, in which he had obtained the clay fragments eight years earlier. They had been stacked on top of one another out of the weather near the bend of the tunnel. I, too, climbed the steep talus slope and peered into the tunnel, finding little more than dust and debris. But the tunnel did appear human-made; we measured the openings at four by nine inches and twenty-two and nineteen inches deep. We removed several tiny fragments of dry mud, undoubtedly originally from the creekbed and placed there sometime in the past. But none of the new fragments contained any characters, and each was typical of dry mud or clay that forms in the creekbed after flooding. I was convinced that the eleven neatly stacked fragments in that tunnel high above Tornillo Creek could not have been placed there except by the hands of humans. The original fragments had been taken to park headquarters by the Uzzells and Nickleses soon after their discovery. But my predecessor considered the "mud tablet" little more than "goat-herder doodlings," and by the time the park staff moved into the Panther Junction Visitor Center, it had disintegrated and was discarded. Nickles' photographs, on the other

146 FOR ALL S E A S O N S hand, continued to interest scholars. Finally, in mid-July 1977,1 received a letter from the McGees, informing me that Harvard's Barry Fell, specialist in ancient languages, had made a tentative translation. Fell includes the tablet's interpretation in his book Saga America as follows: It is written in a variant of Libyan alphabetic script, except for the repeated refrain in line 6, which uses first Lycian, then Lydian letters to repeat the word given in Libyan on line 5 (D-U-A, "Heal us"). The upper section reads left to right, the part below the horizontal broken line is written in boustrophedon, each line reversing its direction. The approximate translation is: (i) Why this suffering (2) Oh, what anguish (3) A call to prayer, 29th (4) December, Year 6 (5) Heal us (6) Heal us, Heal us. (7) "The faithful are beset (8) by sorrows. Guide, O Mithras (8) Show forth (9) thy strength and (10) promise of aid (11) as revealed by (12) Ahuramazda." The lower section appears to be a quotation copied from some other document written in boustrophedon. (1980:165) Fell believes that the Big Bend tablet helps to confirm the theory that Zoroastrians, Roman followers of Mithraic sun worship, probably from Iberia, came to America as either explorers or refugees. According to Fell, the possible time frame of these visitors is from 100 B.C. through 400 A.D., with the tablet apparently dating their Hot Springs visit at December 29,6 A.D. O C T O B E R 22 (1966). We visited our friends Jim and Virginia Court at Castolon this evening and didn't start toward home until about 10 P.M. En route, between Castolon and the Basin Junction, we counted more than a dozen common poorwills sitting on the roadway; it must have been the height of their fall migration. They were relatively easy to spot because their eyeshine was bright red in the oncoming headlights. On most occasions the poorwills flew up and out of danger, but a few times I was forced to swerve sharply to avoid hitting them. Common poorwills are members of the nightjar or goatsucker family, as are the whip-poor-wills and nighthawks. All the nightjars that nest in the temperate zone of North America normally migrate south for the cooler winter months. The exception is the common poorwill in some portions of the western deserts. A few have been found in hibernation on open ledges

O C T O B E R 147 in protected side-canyons in the Mohave Desert in winter. I have searched in similar places in the Big Bend lowlands to no avail. O C T O B E R 22 (1967). My hike to Boot Spring, via Laguna Meadow and a return to the Basin the next day by the Pinnacles Trail produced an even fifty bird species. Although the majority of these were typical of those that might occur at that time of year, there were a few surprises: a male yellow-shafted northern flicker at Laguna; the one and only Lewis' woodpecker I have ever seen in the park, flying over Boot Canyon; thirty-two common ravens circling over Boot Spring at midday; a lone pyrrhuloxia female above Boot Spring, the highest I had ever found this desert bird; a golden eagle that flew low over Boot Spring at dusk; and a northern sawwhet owl that I heard singing near the cabin just after dark. O C T O B E R 23 (1966). Today will forevermore be special to me! I found a rufous-backed robin at Rio Grande Village, a sighting that represents the very first for Texas and one of the first for the United States. This tropical thrush had been reported in Arizona on one earlier occasion. I spent the entire morning at Rio Grande Village, birding all the best locations, recording a total of fifty-four species. By midmorning I was north of the campground along the line of springs that is now known as the Gambusia Ponds. Several common snipe flew away in typical zigzag fashion, with harsh "skipe" calls, as I approached. A pair of pyrrhuloxias, two or three northern mockingbirds, a Say's phoebe, and a few rock wrens were evident on the dry limestone hillside above the springs. I paused in front of a particularly dense area of cordgrass, salt cedar, common buttonbush, and tree tobacco and squeaked with the back of my hand against my lips. A pair of northern cardinals immediately responded, flying into view from the honey mesquites beyond. Sudden movement in the foreground attracted my attention, and I watched as a robin-size bird flew up from the undergrowth, where it apparently had been drinking or feeding. For a brief second I thought it was an American robin, but on closer examination through binoculars I could see the bird's rufous back and flanks, which contrasted with its otherwise gray plumage. A rufousbacked robin! It stayed still, watching me for another eight or ten seconds, and then it dropped back into the foliage. I squeaked it back into view once

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Texas Alligator Lizard again, but it was extremely nervous and stayed for only a few seconds before flying into the adjacent mesquites in about the same place the cardinals had appeared. I was unable to find it again. Two days later I got another very brief glance at the bird in the same locality, but I was unable to take a photograph. I could not locate it again on several succeeding days. Up until mid-1995, there had been only four "accepted" records of this Mexican bird in Texas: one below Falcon Dam on December 29, 1975; one photographed at Langtry on November 11-18, 1976; one near Fort Davis on February 9, 1992; and a specimen from El Paso on October 27, 1993 (Texas Bird Records Committee 1995). O C T O B E R 23 (1967). This afternoon, en route to Boot Spring via the Pinnacles Trail, I encountered a Texas alligator lizard slowly walking along the trail very near the junction with the Emory Peak trail. It was huge, measuring two lengths of my fieldnote book (later estimated at more than fourteen inches). Because of its short legs and long snout, it looked more like a baby alligator than a lizard. Known to science as Gerrkonotus liocephalus infemalis, it is one of Big Bend's most interesting reptiles. According to Roger Conant, it feeds on "insects, spiders, newborn mice, and

O C T O B E R 149 small snakes and lizards" (1975:134), and it occurs only in the Big Bend and Edwards Plateau regions of Texas, south to San Luis Potosi in Mexico. Texas alligator lizards normally are active only during midsummer after the rainy season begins. O C T O B E R 24 (1970). I spent the day birding along the Rio Grande from Castolon to Santa Elena Canyon with Russ and Marion Wilson, friends from California. We recorded a total of sixty species, several of which were rather unusual. The bird of the day, as far as I was concerned, was a Harris' hawk that we found at the Santa Elena Canyon picnic area. That sighting was one of the first times I had seen this raptor in the park. In addition, we discovered a flock of migrants at Cottonwood Campground that included orange-crowned, Nashville, Townsend's, and yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warblers; an American redstart; and a Philadelphia vireo. O C T O B E R 25 (1967). This morning at Rio Grande Village I found a loggerhead shrike carrying something it had impaled on a mesquite thorn. On closer examination, I discovered a large, fat, green caterpillar with the thorn protruding from its side. Shrikes are known to kill their prey in this fashion and will often festoon a thorny shrub or barbed wire with numerous specimens. These birds lack the strong feet that other predators such as hawks use to tear their prey apart, and so they utilize thorns or barbed wire as tools. In recent years, researchers have proven that decorating particular sites, such as a mesquite tree, yucca, cactus, or barbed-wire fence, is also a male shrike's method of attracting females into his territory. O C T O B E R 26 (1969). I found the first eastern phoebe of the year at Rio Grande Village this morning, an indication that the wintering birds had finally arrived. Of fifty-six species detected during my four-hour visit, fifteen are likely to remain all winter: American kestrel; belted kingfisher; northern (red-shafted) flicker; ruby-crowned kinglet; house wren; American pipit; orange-crowned and yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warblers; green-tailed towhee; chipping, clay-colored, song, Lincoln's, and swamp sparrows; and western meadowlark. Other species will undoubtedly arrive during the next several days. O C T O B E R 27 (1967). At about 4:oo P.M. today, park ranger Roger

150 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Siglin called me at Panther Junction to tell me that he had found a cattle egret at Rio Grande Village; this was the first for the park and one of the first ever for West Texas. I immediately drove down and found Roger's cattle egret at the pond behind the store. I watched it for several minutes before it lifted off and flew across the Rio Grande into Mexico. The species was not found in the park again until April 1968, but since then it has been reported during the spring and fall migrations on numerous occasions. Strong northerly winds had blown since midnight, and the cattle egret had undoubtedly arrived with that front. Also in the area I found a large flock of golden-crowned kinglets and smaller numbers of ruby-crowned kinglets and brown creepers. These birds apparently had also arrived with the storm. O C T O B E R 29 (1971). George Burdick and I spent the morning at Rio Grande Village, birding and banding birds. We recorded a total of forty species, including a magnolia warbler, only the second park record. We placed four mist nets at the edge of the trees near the Rio Grande and captured, banded, and released eleven individual birds of six species: one great crested flycatcher, two northern mockingbirds, one brown thrasher, two yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warblers, four pyrrhuloxias, and one chipping sparrow. O C T O B E R 30 (1966). Laguna Meadow was literally filled with migrants this afternoon, but the vast majority of them were yellow-rumped warblers, all of the western Audubon's race. In a little over an hour, I counted more than 150 individuals. They were slowly moving south, stopping to glean insects from the various pinyon, juniper, and oak trees that dominate Laguna. The moving flock of birds also included smaller numbers of red-breasted and white-breasted nuthatches; golden-crowned and ruby-crowned kinglets; and Townsend's warblers. A lone sharp-shinned hawk, apparently part of the same southern movement, was also present.

NOVEMBER N O V E M B E R 3 (1967). Golden eagles are seldom seen in the park's desert lowlands; they are far more common at midelevations and, during the summer months, in the highlands. So finding three individuals perched on the ground near the lower Tornillo Creek bridge on this very windy morning was a real surprise. I stopped the vehicle about two hundred feet away, and Kent Rylander and I climbed out to see what they were about. All three individuals lifted off and flapped away down Tornillo Creek, having a difficult time flying against the strong headwind. As soon as they disappeared from view, we searched the ground where they

Golden Eagle

152 FOR ALL S E A S O N S had been but found no sign of food. Apparently they had simply stopped to rest, and we were fortunate to find them. These three birds probably were migrants that had followed Tornillo Creek on their way south into Mexico. The park's three or more pairs of resident golden eagles are supplemented every winter when northern birds arrive to overwinter in the park's open flats that surround the Chisos Mountains. There they prey on the common black-tailed jackrabbit and a variety of other creatures. N O V E M B E R 4 (1967). Early this morning I found a dead desert shrew in the middle of the trail at about 6,600 feet elevation just above the Chisos Basin Trailhead. I picked it up and examined it carefully but could find no sign of injury. I later made it into a study skin that was accessioned into the Big Bend National Park study collection. Although there are a few other records of this little insectivore for the park, this was my first. This species (Notiosorex crawfordi) is the only shrew known for Trans-Pecos Texas. David Schmidly, in The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas, reports that all known specimens of the species "have been taken in desert scrub vegetation" (1977: 26). This specimen, however, was found in pinyon-juniper woodlands. N O V E M B E R 5 (1967). It was already hot by the time Kent Rylander and I reached the Rio Grande floodplain below Castolon. We had visited a number of sites since leaving Panther Junction, and our final stop was going to be Santa Elena Canyon. We stopped briefly at Cottonwood Campground, although in 1967 the cottonwoods were small and had not attracted the bird life that was to be present there by the 19805. The tree tobacco plants, growing along the river, were in bloom, and we identified lone lucifer and broad-tailed hummingbirds and several black-chinned hummingbirds feeding on the large yellow blossoms. Not far from Santa Elena Canyon we stopped along the roadway at a dense growth of cottonwoods, willows, and tree tobaccos to see what hummingbird species might be present there. Almost immediately we discovered an immature male Anna's hummingbird feeding on the tree tobacco flowers. We watched it for several minutes to be sure of its identity, and we were both able to see its reddish forehead. It was collected and represents the first park record and only the second Anna's hummingbird record for

N O V E M B E R 153 West Texas (Wauer and Rylander 1968). Since then it has become a "rare and irregular migrant and winter resident in west and central Texas and on the upper coast" (Texas Bird Records Committee 1995: 74). N O V E M B E R 6 (1966). Kibby Spring lies along the western flank of Casa Grande at about the same elevation as Panther Pass. A faint trail runs west from the Lost Mine Trail parking area for about one mile to the old spring site. This was my first-ever visit to the spring, part of my long-term effort to visit all the park springs (see November 26 [1967] for details). Kibby Spring was little more than a trickle, although that visit produced two firsts for me. A lone golden-fronted woodpecker was present when I arrived but flew off soon afterward. All during the remainder of my six-year tenure at Big Bend National Park I did not see this species again. However, since the early 19803, it has become the single most common woodpecker at cottonwood groves along the Rio Grande. The second species of interest at Kibby Spring was a pair of ringtails that I watched for several minutes as they chased one another around the rocky hillside. I have visited Kibby Spring several other times since 1966, and I have never failed either to see ringtails or to discover very recent evidence of their presence. There undoubtedly is a viable population of this fascinating mammal in this area. N O V E M B E R 7 (1966). Fall color in the mountains is pretty well limited to the mountain maples, quaking aspens, and a few oaks. Few people associate fall color with West Texas. But today, the maples along the trail below Laguna Meadow and in Boot Canyon were at their peak. I took numerous photographs of the gorgeous red-colored maples as well as the fallen leaves that practically covered the ground in places in Boot Canyon. The quaking aspens on Emory Peak were just past their peak, although their golden leaves, along with the red maples and fewer burnt-orange oak leaves, provided wonderful contrasts with the green foliage of the numerous junipers, pinyon, and evergreen oaks and the blackish cliffs. N O V E M B E R 9 (1989). This is my first visit to the park in several years; it is wonderful to be back in my favorite place in the whole world. Several changes have occurred in recent years. Of sixty-five bird species I recorded this morning at Rio Grande Village, two species were surprising. I found a total of five Harris' hawks among the cottonwoods behind the

154 FOR ALL S E A S O N S store, more than I had seen in the park in the six years that I lived there. I also found eight golden-fronted woodpeckers in the area; I had seen only one individual during the same six years (see November 6 [1966]). But now this large woodpecker apparently is nesting in the area and seems to be the area's most abundant woodpecker. N O V E M B E R 12 (1971). The brushy flat near the mouth of Boquillas Canyon contained numerous sage thrashers this morning. In about an hour I counted sixteen individuals, and I am sure that I missed many of them. These birds were sitting on various shrubs or flying from one to another as I walked a loop route through the area. Recent rains had apparently created perfect conditions for this bird of the western sagebrush plains. N O V E M B E R 12 (1971). I spent most of the morning wandering about the open flats near Rock Spring, a small, isolated spring located southeast of Panther Junction and northwest of Nugent Mountain. The National Park Service was in the process of developing a revised master plan for the park and was searching for a logical place to relocate employee accommodations and the campground from the Chisos Basin. The Rock Spring area, west of the Rio Grande Village roadway, had considerable potential. Due to the abundant cenizas there, I begin calling the area "Ceniza Flat." The area already had available water and nearby powerlines, and it offered easy access and could be developed so that it could not be seen from the highway. The purpose of my visit today was to access the area's natural resources to determine if any rare or endangered animals or plants might be present that could be threatened by development. I found no resident species of importance, although I did find a Sprague's pipit, undoubtedly a late migrant. Rock Spring was flowing for about three-quarters of a mile, and it was being heavily used by javelinas, deer, and numerous birds. I later wrote a report suggesting Ceniza Flat be considered for development, since it was a place that contained no unique or outstanding resources and would help relieve the impact on the Chisos Basin. Although the master planners took my recommendations into consideration and even did some preliminary surveying, they favored expansion of the Panther Junction residential area instead.

N O V E M B E R 155 N O V E M B E R 15 (1966). Midday atop Emory Peak was calm and peaceful. The views in every direction were superb. Far to the west, the deep cut of Santa Elena Canyon seemed close enough to touch. To the east, the limestone layers of the Sierra del Carmens reminded me of a layer cake, and the higher volcanic range of the Maderas del Carmen just beyond looked like a jagged fortress. Below my perch to the north, I could see the Chisos Mountain Lodge and cottages. I also could pick out my vehicle and the antlike people scurrying to and fro in the Chisos Basin. Nearby, twenty or more western bluebirds were foraging for insects along the high rocky slopes, and a pair of red crossbills called distinct "jip jip" notes in passing. I focused my binoculars on one of the male bluebirds just as it landed on a stone outcropping. It had captured a small grasshopper, and I watched it

Singing Coyotes

156 FOR ALL S E A S O N S peck it apart and consume its soft parts, discarding the legs. It then began to preen, providing me with a truly outstanding view of its colorful bright blue, russet, and gray plumage. A few minutes later it flew up from its perch, hovered briefly, and then dashed away after a passing insect that it captured with a loud snap of its bill. N O V E M B E R 17 (1968). Coyotes were exceptionally vocal this early morning as I hiked up Tornillo Creek from the upper bridge. At one point I could hear four groups of cries and yelps from various directions. This is the time of year when coyotes are most active, when their breeding cycle begins and families are reaffirming territories. However, all morning I saw only one individual, who was walking across the drainage ahead of me. But from the numerous coyote songs early on, I knew that the local population included a dozen or more. Although coyote populations are extremely difficult to estimate, David Schmidly, in The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas, claims that Trans-Pecos populations range from one to four animals per square mile (1977:132). During the years that I have hiked the Big Bend country, I have come to admire and appreciate the wily coyote. Not only has this natural predator survived considerable persecution by area ranchers and predator-control officials, but it has learned to take advantage of whatever nature provides. For me, the coyote is one of Big Bend's most inspiring creatures. The coyote's morning songfest, echoing across the open desertscape, is one of my most cherished memories. N O V E M B E R 17 (1990). Today I introduced Bob and Pat Cahn, two friends from the Washington, D.C., area, to my favorite park. We had just attended a meeting of the George Wright Society in El Paso, and I had enticed Bob and Pat to see some of my world. We birded Rio Grande Village in the early morning; had lunch at Dugout Wells; drove the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive to Castolon, Cottonwood Campground, and Santa Elena Canyon; and walked a portion of the Window Trail in the evening hours. On the next morning we visited the Old Ranch and Government Spring and then left the park to head home to Victoria, Texas. During that very brief survey of the park we recorded a total of sixtyone bird species, none of which were unusual. We stayed overnight at the Chisos Mountain Lodge and had dinner with my long-time friend Jim Car-

N O V E M B E R 157 rico, the park superintendent. The Cahns were suitably impressed with their Big Bend visit. N O V E M B E R 18 (1994). This evening at the K-Bar (the bunkhouse for researchers) I visited with bear biologists Al Conent and Cherly Mulluhan. Al and Cherly had just spent a few days in the park, assessing the area's black bear population for the National Park Service. During our conversation I learned a number of interesting facts, principally that these specialists believe that Big Bend's bear population is healthy and on the increase. The majority of the park bears already were denning for the winter, although these southern bears spend considerable time during warmer winter days outside their dens. Pregnant females den earliest, while males tend to stay out longer. Al said that southern bears have about the same denning times as more northern populations, although the southern bears spend more time outside their dens, lounging about. He also pointed out that some Mexican black bears wander all winter long, even though "physiologically they behave like denners" and don't eat. I asked about the park population, and they did not have a good answer for me, although they stated that the local population had not yet peaked. They explained that the park bears were still working the drainages and not spending much time on the slopes or the lower flats. The bears had recently been feeding primarily on madrone berries. Al said that when the Chisos habitats began to fill, the young males would spend more time exploring the lowlands. N O V E M B E R 19 (1967). From the highway, several small overhangs were visible at the base of the extensive limestone ridge east of Nine Point Draw. I left my vehicle at a small pull-out near the highway bridge and set off across the open flats to investigate. The overhangs had undoubtedly been utilized long ago by Archaic peoples; the ceilings were blackened from ancient fires, and stone chips lay scattered about on the nearby ground. I examined the walls for pictographs or petroglyphs, but none were evident. The rear corners of the overhang were filled with debris and layers of scat that had been deposited there by wood rats. That debris included an amazing assortment of materials, from sticks and leaves to stones, bones, and a variety of human articles, such as can pull-tops, bits of paper

158 FOR ALL S E A S O N S and glass, and other odds and ends. The gathering of debris by wood rats is the basis for their "pack-rat" name. Similar wood rat "middens" in the immediate area, as well as on Burro Mesa and in the lower Chisos Mountains, had been studied by Phillip V. Wells (1966) to date the region's changing vegetation. Wells was able to date the various layers of the middens, some of which had taken many thousands of years to build. Radiocarbon tests revealed that fifteen to twenty thousand years ago the lowlands of Nine Point Draw and Tornillo Creek supported a pinyon woodland much like that found today in the Chisos Mountains. Wells theorized that gradual climate changes were responsible for the increased aridity and the shift from woodlands to desert. One fascinating relict of that climate change is the Carmen Mountains white-tailed deer. This is a smaller than normal white-tail that now occurs only in isolated populations in the Chisos, Rosillo, Christmas, Del Norte, and Chinati Mountains in West Texas and in Mexico's Sierra del Carmens and Sierranias del Burro. These populations once had been contiguous, but with the drying lowlands, the white-tails followed the shrinking habitat into the cooler mountains, eventually forming isolated populations. During the last ten thousand years or so, mule deer have invaded the desert lowlands. N O V E M B E R 19 (1994). I hiked the Lost Mine Trail this evening for the first time in several years. The slopes of Casa Grande contained a yellow tinge from the turning oak leaves. The recent months had been extremely dry, producing fewer than normal flowering herbs and shrubs. A few mountain sages were still blooming on the higher slopes, however. Just beyond interpretive signpost 21,1 found a rufous hummingbird feeding on one of the bright red mountain sage flowers. A very late sighting in the mountains for this little rufous hummer. N O V E M B E R 22 (1967). Bob and Mickey Burleson and I hiked into Devil's Den today. The Burlesons, from Temple, Texas, are true lovers of the Big Bend and spend considerable time exploring the park's backcountry sites. Devil's Den, located in the northern portion of the park near Dog Canyon, is one of these. The indistinct trail provides a 5.6-mile round-trip route from the start of the Dog Canyon Trail.

N O V E M B E R 159 Devil's Den itself is a mile-long gash on the north-facing slope of Dagger Mountain. It is possible to drop into the canyon bottom or to hike along its western edge for better photographic opportunities. The canyon bottom has numerous potholes that fill with water during rains, attracting lots of wildlife. House finches were most numerous, drinking from the pools or sitting on the rim. Other birds recorded along the bottom included the ladder-backed woodpecker; verdin; Bewick's and rock wrens; pyrrhuloxia; black-throated and white-crowned sparrows; and canyon and green-tailed towhees. N O V E M B E R 22 (1970). I hiked from K-Bar to Estufa Spring and on through Estufa Canyon to Banta Shut-In today. It was a long but very pleasant day, totaling about fifteen miles round-trip. I undertook the hike as research for a booklet that I was writing, Hiker's Guide to the Developed Trails and Primitive Routes, which was published by the Big Bend Natural History Association in 1971.1 found Estufa Spring completely dry; a huge dead cottonwood had fallen over in the drainage, and the area looked devastated. Even the tracks of javelinas, so common at most springs, were minimal. Banta Shut-in, situated at the narrows on Tornillo Creek, is a fascinating place. It was formed by intrusive rocks that are part of the McKinney Hills laccolith. The narrows consists of blocks of hornfels, a hard, finegrained metamorphic rock that was utilized by Indians for stone implements. The area was once an important quarry, and the surrounding grounds were scattered with many chips and cast-off pieces of worked stone. I also recorded a total of twenty-nine bird species during the day, including a number of sage thrashers on the flats between K-Bar and Estufa Spring. N O V E M B E R 24 (1971). I spent the day with John Bissonette, Ph.D. student at the University of Michigan who will spend the next three years in the park studying javelinas. His research was eventually published by the National Park Service in a little book titled Ecology and Social Behavior of the Collared Peccary in Big Bend National Park (1982). John intensely studied five groups of javelinas, following them about day and night, documenting their various habits. He found that the groups

i6o FOR ALL S E A S O N S held their own territories with little or no overlap by adjacent groups. They "marked vegetation and rocks with scent gland excretions, and scat piles were observed scattered among boundary lines" (Bissonette 1982: ix). Each group was always dominated by an alpha male, but hierarchy of subgroups was determined by size. John documented at least three types of vocalizations, aggressive, submissive, and alert, all determined by pitch, intensity, and continuity. "Five alert-alarm patterns were reported: (i) cautious approach; (2) stationary alert; (3) slow departure; (4) cautious departure; and (5) fast departure" (Bissonette 1982: x). John found that Big Bend's javelinas showed a seasonal habitat preference, utilizing dense vegetation during the summer months and more open areas in winter. Lechuguilla was their preferred food, with pricklypears in second place, but "seeds of woody plants, fruits, and forbs were preferred and taken when available." They also "showed a preference for certain vegetative parts of lechuguilla. Generally, only the core leaves and basal parts of the modified leaves and the roots were eaten" (Bissonette 1982: xi). N O V E M B E R 26 (1967). Desert springs are extremely important for the health of the park environment, and any change in the flow can have devastating effects upon area wildlife. In order to establish a baseline for a long-term monitoring program of area springs, I started to visit as many springs as possible to obtain a rough assessment of the flow, the surrounding vegetation, and current and past uses. Several other park employees got involved with this project, and an initial baseline inventory was completed by Virginia Howarth in 1976. A secondary survey was undertaken by the park staff in 1985; a third survey was completed by John Forsythe in 1990; and a comprehensive database, incorporating all past surveys, was completed by a field crew of eight AmeriCorps workers in 1995. The 1995 database includes a grand total of 325 water sources throughout the park. These include 266 springs and seeps, 34 tinajas (natural tanks), 17 wells/windmills, and 8 stock tanks. Only twenty-one of the springs contained surface water on five or more surveys: Ash, Bonito, Burro, Carrasco, Chilicotal, Cicada, dela Ho, Dodson, Dog, Dominguez,

N O V E M B E R 161 Elephant, Fresno, Gap, Pefia #1, Rough, San Jacinto B, Trap, Tule, Ward, Wasp, and Well. While reviewing the 1995 data, I discovered that Virginia Howarth, in surveying the springs in 1976, had named one of the unnamed springs for me. Wauer Spring is located in Pine Canyon, along the south side of the drainage at about 5,500 feet elevation. I had reported this spring for the first time in 1967. Virginia reported that the spring was being used by "many birds and some deer" (Howarth 1976). Chilicotal Spring, along the northeastern edge of Chilicotal Mountain, was one of the first areas I visited on my spring survey. The spring site, with several willow and cottonwood trees, is visible southwest of the highway just below Dugout Wells. I left my vehicle along the roadway and hiked across the desert terrain to the base of a low cliff at which numerous seeps were present. The largest flow measured four to five gallons per minute and ran for about two hundred yards into a sandstone wash. Javelina and deer tracks were everywhere, and it was readily apparent that these mammals spent considerable time there. The remains of a rock house still stood in the drainage below the main spring; it was roofless and had not been used for many years. This structure was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. John Rice from 1900 until he died in 1926; his widow continued to live there for several more years. Further evidence of human use included considerable rock chips that had been left there by Indians in the distant past. I tasted the water and found it slightly alkaline but potable. I sat there for a long time trying to imagine what it would have been like to live in the rock house. Life would have been extremely difficult, but evenings, looking out across the desert toward the Sierra del Carmens, would have had considerable appeal. N O V E M B E R 27 (1966). In 1966 it was possible to drive to a parking area below Oak Spring, just below The Window. The remains of the old Francis Rooney-Homer Wilson house were still evident, although the house was torn down by the Park Service a few years later (see April 2 [1968] for details about prioritizing the park's abundant historic sites). The two-story frame house was originally (about 1911) located at the

i6s> FOR ALL S E A S O N S Rooney Ranch on Nine Points Mesa; it was a Sears and Roebuck prefabricated house that was hauled to Nine Points from the Marathon Railhead. Soon afterward, however, Rooney took a foreman job at the Study Butte Quicksilver Mine and moved the house to Oak Spring. Homer Wilson purchased the house and surrounding lands in 1929, and until Wilson died in July 1943, it served as headquarters for Wilson's extensive ranch, which included the entire western half of the Chisos Mountains. The house and sheds were in a poor state of repair in 1966, but huge oak and hackberry trees were still common along the drainage. Intermittent pools of water were present along the drainage that I followed to the base of the pouroff. Although the pouroff was dry, evidence of earlier runoff after heavy rainfall in the Chisos Basin was obvious. The bird life was surprisingly sparse. I recorded only about a dozen species, and no band-tailed pigeons. Walter Rooney, who had lived at Oak Creek from 1916 to 1923 as a youngster, once reported that "millions of pigeons" came into Oak Creek "like the wind blowing" when the acorns were on the trees (see June 25 [1969]). Late November was too late for acorns.

DECEMBER D E C E M B E R i (1967). Today, Roger Siglin and I drove the Old Ore Road, the twenty-five-mile primitive road between the paved Boquillas - Rio Grande Village highway and the Dagger Flat Road. The name of this road comes from the use the northern half of the route received for hauling ore from a terminal located near Willow Tank northward to the nearest railroad in Marathon from 1909 to 1919 (for additional details about the ore tramway, see January 14 [1971]). The Old Ore Road provides an excellent perspective of the eastern portion of the park, including its fascinating history. We

Christmas Bird Count Participants

164 FOR ALL S E A S O N S spent considerable time at the village site of La Noria, walking about the ruins and visualizing its heyday when Max Ernst operated the Big Tinaja Store. Ernst began development here in 1898, and La Noria was a productive farming community from 1900 to the mid-i93Os. In 1913, following the Mexican Revolution of 1910, La Noria became the site of a U.S. Army camp, from which soldiers patrolled the entire Rio Grande from Sierra Blanca to Boquillas. Soldiers were stationed at La Noria until 1921. We also walked up Ernst Canyon for about a mile to Ernst Tinaja, a huge, natural tank that, over the millennia, has been carved into the limestone base by flash floods. Soldiers swam in the tank and installed a metal ring on the edge so that they could easily climb out. Other historic sites visited along the route included the Loftin Place, Willow Tank, the Ore Terminal, McKinney Ranch, and McKinney Spring. Willow Tank, named after the willows growing there, is one of dozens of similar tanks built throughout the Big Bend country by early-day ranchers for watering their stock. Willow Tank is rather unique, however, because it was constructed around a natural spring that surfaces there. Seven greenwinged teal flew up and away on our arrival. D E C E M B E R 2 (1966). Today I received a significant lesson about the adaptability of desert animals. Hiking across upper Tornillo Flat, I came upon a herd of javelinas that were feeding on lechuguilla plants, tearing off the leaves to get to the fleshy stalk. Until then, I had considered that hardy desert plant impossible to eat, except by a few insects, and next to impossible to mutilate. But there were four javelinas creating havoc with a number of these very tough, fibrous plants (for more information about javelina diet, see November 24 [1971]). I eventually learned not to take anything for granted in the desert, especially when it comes to these little native pigs. I have since seen javelinas chew up pricklypear leaves like lettuce, and I have seen them scavenge along the highways for dead and dried roadkills. They will eat everything from snakes to skunks to mice to dead javelinas. D E C E M B E R 3 (1967). I watched two bobcats hunting along the rather open, west-facing slope halfway between the Chisos Basin and Laguna Meadow today. Once I discovered the two mammals, I sat on a rock

D E C E M B E R 165 and watched them through binoculars; they seemed totally oblivious to my presence. I soon realized that I was watching an adult bobcat with what was probably its almost-grown kitten. They seemed to be crisscrossing the steep slope, stopping now and then to listen or to stare at a nearby patch of grass. The adult led the way, with the kitten following close behind; both moved and stopped together as a unit. On one occasion the kitten seemed to lose interest, and I detected a low growl, apparently made by the adult, that immediately got the kitten's attention. At one stop, the adult suddenly sprang forward, back arched somewhat like a house cat, and extracted a small rodent from a patch of grass. I watched as it turned and gave the limp rodent to the kitten, who took it, dropped it on the ground, pawed it two or three times, picked it up again, tossed it to the side, and then pounced on it in an inexperienced way. Then it picked it up and swallowed it whole. A second or two later they continued up the slope and soon disappeared from view. D E C E M B E R 3 (1968). I found a greater roadrunner at Rio Grande Village this morning with a huge praying mantis in its bill. It appeared that the insect was as much in charge as the bird. It seemed that the mantis had a good hold on the roadrunner, and the bird did not know quite what to make of the situation. For about fifteen minutes I watched the roadrunner walk about with this huge insect attached to its forehead. Finally, the roadrunner rubbed the mantis off against a shrub, grabbed it in its bill, swiftly killed it, and swallowed it whole. D E C E M B E R 7 (1967).Jim Court and I visited Trap and Mule Ears Springs today as part of my comprehensive spring survey (see November 26 [1967]). We found that both spring sites were being heavily used by wildlife: deer, javelinas, coyotes, and numerous birds. I recorded a total of thirty-one bird species at the two springs, which supported an assortment of desert plants: a few willows, honey mesquites, and salt cedars, and lots of seepwillows, arrowweed, javelinabushes, and grasses. Trap Spring lies in the bottom of a sandy wash and consists of a series of seeps that were flowing for about a hundred yards. Mule Ears Spring, located about half a mile up the drainage, was flowing about fifty yards and producing an estimated two to three gallons of water per minute. Nearby

i66 FOR ALL S E A S O N S were the remains of an old adobe house and rock corral, part of the Castolon ranching properties. An old pipeline once carried water from the spring to a stock tank near the paved roadway. D E C E M B E R 7 (1971). An epidemic of Venezuelan equine encephalitis (VEE) had recently killed more than fifteen hundred horses in Texas. Scientists from the Center for Disease Control (CDC) in Atlanta, Georgia, were attempting to isolate host species. At least eight kinds of mosquitoes are known to carry the virus. I got involved with two separate projects; I spent ten days in South Texas (below Brownsville at Boca Chica) and an additional three days at Castolon, intensely netting birds, taking blood samples from them, and banding and releasing them. During the daylight hours of December 7, 8, and 9 at Castolon, I worked with Herb Trevino and Ted Baker of CDC, capturing mammals, birds, and reptiles. I processed a total of seventy-eight individual birds of fifteen species: two mourning doves, one screech-owl, one verdin, one brown creeper, one loggerhead shrike, three pyrrhuloxias, three Brewer's sparrows, twenty-nine clay-colored sparrows, one vesper sparrow, one black-throated sparrow, one grasshopper sparrow, one Lincoln's sparrow, one swamp sparrow, one golden-crowned sparrow, and thirty-one whitecrowned sparrows. At Boca Chica I had processed more than five hundred individual birds. The resultant report revealed that none of the Big Bend birds or mammals carried the virus. But the report concluded that 4 percent (all from Boca Chica) of the two thousand birds in Texas tested positive for VEE. A few mammals, such as a cottontail, an evening bat, a Mexican ground squirrel, and pocket and white-footed mice, also tested positive. The CDC report concluded that "VEE virus activity was far greater in large domestic animals than in birds, wild mammals, or reptiles" (Sudia et al. 1975: 48). D E C E M B E R 10 (1967). Snow had fallen yesterday on the Chisos Mountains and Mexico's Sierra del Carmens to the southeast; a strong eastern wind had blown the entire day. This morning was still cold and blustery. Yesterday's cold front had apparently also brought with it a number of unusual bird species. While birding Rio Grande Village this morning I found an American black duck (the first and only park record) in a pond

D E C E M B E R 167 with a mallard and a gadwall, and a lone rusty blackbird (also the first park record). In addition, I discovered two European starlings feeding on the ground with several meadowlarks. I assumed that the starlings had also arrived with the storm; these were the first and only starlings that I have detected within the park. D E C E M B E R 10 (1969). The Chimneys Trail begins at a small pulloff along the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive, halfway between the side roads to Burro Mesa Pouroff and Mule Ears Overlook. The trail skirts the northern edge of Kit Mountain and passes a series of volcanic chimneylike spires, from which its name was derived, and then continues west to Lunas, on the Maverick-Santa Elena Canyon Road. The trail is hot and dry in spring, summer, and fall and so is best taken during the cooler winter months. Temperatures were in the fifties and sixties throughout the morning hours, making it a wonderful day to wander and to study anything that attracted my attention. Black-throated sparrows were especially numerous on the open creosotebush-dominated flats. Other desert birds recorded included a red-tailed hawk; common raven; black-tailed gnatcatcher; cactus and rock wrens; northern mockingbird; loggerhead shrike; pyrrhuloxia; and house finch. The open arroyos, some containing thickets of honey mesquite, mescat acacia, ceniza,javelinabush, and skeletonleaf goldeneye, produced a few additional species: mourning dove, northern (red-shafted) flicker, ruby-crowned kinglet, gray vireo, spotted towhee, and chipping sparrow. Of special interest was the gray vireo that sang briefly after I spished loudly to attract birds into view. Except for a December 30,1950, sighting by Karl Haller of a lone gray vireo in the Chisos Basin, this was the first winter record for Texas. I later told Dr. Jon Barlow about this sighting, and that led to several additional records of wintering gray vireos in the park (see January 3 [1970]) and eventually to an article in the Canadian Journal of Zoology (Barlow and Wauer 1971). However, my most exciting observation that December morning occurred just above The Chimneys when a mountain lion crossed the trail about 150 feet ahead of me. I had been wandering back and forth, identifying various birds, when the "panther" suddenly appeared as if by magic

i68 FOR ALL S E A S O N S out of the desert vegetation. It rapidly crossed the trail and disappeared. Its gray-tan color and long tail were obvious, but it was visible only for about two seconds. When I swiftly walked to where it had crossed the trail, I found little more than a few tracks in the dust and gravel. In spite of trailing it for several hundred feet and scoping the surrounding flats from a low hill, I could not find it again. It had completely disappeared. D E C E M B E R 12 (1967). Today, Jim Court, Bill Jensen, Mike Shields, Roger Siglin, and I hiked cross-country from Dominguez Spring, accessible from the River Road, to the Blue Creek Canyon parking area. We stopped at six spring sites along the way, but Dominguez Spring was the only one with any appreciable amount of water. Dominated by seepwillows and grasses, it was flowing for about seventy-five feet and, in places, was two to three feet wide and one to two inches deep. I recorded fifteen bird species about the spring that morning: sharp-shinned hawk; scaled quail; mourning dove; ladder-backed woodpecker; Say's phoebe; rubycrowned kinglet; black-tailed gnatcatcher; verdin; cactus and rock wrens; yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warbler; pyrrhuloxia; spotted towhee; blackthroated sparrow; and house finch. D E C E M B E R 15 (1968). Today's 14.5-mile round-trip hike to the South Rim was a wonderful but exhausting trip that I will long remember. The day was cool and bright, and it seemed like the many views from the high rims were even more spectacular than usual. I ate lunch on the South Rim, where I watched a pair of common ravens playing on the thermals that arose from the warmer lowlands. A golden eagle passed below me at one point; I had an unusual view of this large raptor, whose huge head was a golden sheen. When I walked off the trail to examine a late-flowering Stewart's gilia with lavender petals, I almost stepped on a huge nipple cactus that was well hidden among the grasses. On closer examination I discovered several more of these flattened cacti. Other cactus species found in the immediate area included several brown-flowered cacti and a few specimens of Texas claret-cup, strawberry, and mountain cob cacti. D E C E M B E R 16 (1970). Continuing my exploration of all the park's primitive hiking routes for my hiker's guide, I hiked the six-mile round-trip to Dog Canyon this morning. One of the park's most interesting desert

D E C E M B E R 169

Cane Cholla with Ice

hikes, the route follows Nine Point Draw through Dog Canyon to the park boundary and the Black Gap Wildlife Management Area. The canyon cuts through a high limestone ridge that is grotesquely folded and faulted at this point. From within the canyon one can see massive layers of Santa Elena limestone rising vertically out of the canyon floor. The structure is an anticline that has been overturned. Few places illustrate the forces of nature as does Dog Canyon. Dog Canyon was earlier called "Camel Pass," because Lt. William E. Echols led an experimental camel train (known as the Hartz Expedition) through the canyon in 1860. The purpose of that expedition was to determine the value of camels as beasts of burden in the desert. The canyon was later named Dog Canyon after "an early-day traveler found a dog guarding an oxen-drawn wagon in the canyon. The owner of the oxen was never found," according to Ross Maxwell (1968:35). D E C E M B E R 17 (1967). The Big Bend country had just experienced three days of frost, fog, and rain, and snow had fallen in the higher Chisos Mountains overnight, but this morning was bright and clear. I drove up Green Gulch before the snow had begun to melt and found some amazing scenes. The contrasting colors of the white snow, green leaves, and black to

170 FOR ALL S E A S O N S reddish cliffs produced some wonderful photographic opportunities. I even found a red-barked Texas madrone tree, partially covered with snow. But some of the most remarkable scenes were at lower elevations, where many of the desert plants were dripping with ice. I took a dozen or more slides of tiny icicles hanging from cane chollas and a long-dead century plant stalk. D E C E M B E R 21 (1966). My first Christmas bird count at Big Bend National Park. Four of us—Sharon and I, John Galley, and Roger Siglin— spent the entire day (from 6:30 A.M. to 6:15 P.M.) censusing birds in the Rio Grande Village area. We tallied a total of 961 individual birds of 73 species. The dozen most common species, in descending order of abundance, included 174 yellow-rumped (Audubon's) warblers, 115 northern mockingbirds, 77 pyrrhuloxias, 57 ruby-crowned kinglets, 32 northern pintails, 29 northern rough-winged swallows, 28 northern cardinals, 26 western meadowlarks, 20 killdeer, 19 swamp sparrows, and 18 marsh wrens, chipping sparrows, and house finches (tied). There were no unexpected species. In 1967, John Galley, Roger Siglin, and I tallied 858 birds of 78 species within this same fifteen-mile-diameter count circle. We encountered two unusual species: two golden-crowned kinglets and a rusty blackbird that had been present at Rio Grande Village for more than a month. The following year (on December 26, 1968), Don Davis, Helen Grimes, Roger Siglin, and I recorded 1,435 individuals of 85 species, including an unexpected dusky flycatcher. The 85 species represented the highest number of birds recorded on this count area. In 1969, Betty Crabtree, Dick Youse, and I recorded 724 birds of 67 species, including 3 whistling swans along the river at Rio Grande Village. In 1970, four counters—Jay and Ruth Jessen, J. L. Moriarty, and I— tallied a total of 1,038 individual birds of 83 species. Four species were unusual that year: 5 rufous and 2 Anna's hummingbirds, a thick-billed kingbird, and a rusty blackbird. On my final eastern Big Bend National Park count in 1971, Mike Findley, Jeanne and Mark Leckert, and I recorded 1,020 birds of 75 species. Three of those were unexpected: common poorwill, a Cassin's kingbird that had been present at Rio Grande Village all month, and a European starling.

D E C E M B E R 171 D E C E M B E R 23 (1966). My first Chisos Mountains Christmas count. Participants John Galley, Bob Barbee, and Sharon and I tallied a total of 1,364 individuals of 68 species in twelve hours. Bob and I hiked to Boot Spring via Laguna Meadow, returning via the Pinnacles Trail, while Sharon and John covered the lower areas from Panther Junction into Green Gulch. The dozen most common species that day, in descending order of abundance, included 126 ruby-crowned kinglets, 96 chipping sparrows, 90 canyon towhees, 83 clay-colored sparrows, 77 scaled quail, 69 dark-eyed (45 Oregon, 19 gray-headed, and 5 slate-colored) juncos, 53 lark buntings, 50 house sparrows, 48 black-throated sparrows, 47 rufous-crowned sparrows, 47 pine siskins, and 46 spotted towhees. The only unusual species recorded were a lone Townsend's warbler and 3 field sparrows. In 1967, John Galley, Roger Siglin, Joe Terry, and I tallied 2,643 individuals of 74 species on the Chisos Mountain count, including 4 unexpected species: 2 Williamson's sapsuckers and a lone western scrub-jay, varied bunting, and field sparrow. In 1968, Don Davis, Dick Nelson, Roger Siglin, and Sharon and I recorded 2,748 individuals of 76 species. Unusual birds on this day included high counts of 58 band-tailed pigeons, 129 rock wrens, and 58 Cassin's sparrows, as well as 3 eastern bluebirds and 3 Scott's orioles. In 1969, only 599 individual birds of 43 species were tallied by Ruth Jessen, Burr, Frances, and Harold Williams, and Sharon and me. None of the 1969 species were unexpected. The highest number of birds on the five Chisos Mountains Christmas counts occurred on December 29,1970, when Ruth Jessen, J. L. Moriarty, Noberto Ortega, Jim Tucker, and I tallied 3,909 individual birds of 80 species. There were no unusual birds. In 1971, Gloria and John Tveten and I recorded 1,530 individuals of 71 species. Two of these were unusual: a broad-tailed hummingbird that had been present all fall, and a gray vireo. D E C E M B E R 30 (1966). My first Santa Elena Canyon Christmas count was cold and windy; a low of 30 degrees F. was recorded at Castolon. Jim Scudday, biology professor from Sul Ross State University in Alpine, and I tallied 3,502 individual birds of 70 species. The dozen most common species, in descending order of abundance, included 1,315 lark buntings, 413 white-crowned sparrows, 328 mourning doves, 278 chipping sparrows, 224 vesper sparrows, 152 Brewer's sparrows, 89 clay-colored sparrows,

172 FOR ALL S E A S O N S 42 western meadowlarks, 39 green-tailed towhees, 36 scaled quail, 35 green-winged teal, and 34 northern mockingbirds. Several unusual species were recorded: 7 western scrub-jays; a lone gray catbird; 4 Townsend's solitaires, normally found only in the mountains; and 4 Baird's sparrows. The extremely high number of sparrows was surprising. In 1967, Roger Siglin and I recorded only 739 individuals of 73 species on the Santa Elena count, including 2 unexpected species, an Anna's hummingbird and 2 golden-crowned kinglets. The following year (1968), Jim Court, Helen Grimes, G. H. Rinehart, Roger Siglin, H. Lee Watson, and I tallied 1,625 individuals of 76 species. Three species were unusual that year: 4 dusky flycatchers, a lone northern parula, and 4 Baird's sparrows. I did the Santa Elena Canyon Christmas count alone on December 21, 1969, recording only 333 individual birds of 53 species. The only unusual bird was 5 golden-crowned kinglets. In 1970, Guy Anderson, J. L. Moriarty, Jim Tucker, and I tallied 2,967 individuals of 72 species. Highlights included a gray vireo, representing the park's first Christmas bird count record, and a high count of 682 clay-colored sparrows. Finally, the 1971 Santa Elena Christmas count was the highest. Gloria and John Tveten and I recorded a total of 3,202 individual birds of 78 species, including one lazuli bunting and a golden-crowned sparrow that represented a new park record. D E C E M B E R 31 (1966). New Year's Eve! My first at Big Bend National Park, terminating one of the most exciting and fulfilling years of my life. I felt so very fortunate to be living in and experiencing one of nature's most exquisite settings. It seemed that everything I had ever learned and done before had somehow led me to this place at this particular time. There is yet so much to see and do, to learn and understand, enjoy and appreciate. I walked out under stars tonight that were brighter than at anywhere else I had ever lived. And as I gazed upward into that great universe, I was profoundly thankful for this opportunity to spend part of my life within the Texas Big Bend.

Afterword After spending the better part of my life in the national parks, and after visiting every national park in North America, I am often asked which of all the national parks is my favorite. My answer is always the same: Big Bend National Park! The usual follow-up question to that answer is, Why? What is so special about Big Bend? What is it that appeals to you most? And my response always includes the fact that Big Bend is extra special to me for a number of reasons. First, from the perspective of an avid birder, Big Bend is the number one birding park. More bird species (450 plus) have been found there than in any other national park, and, because of its location along the Mexican border, unexpected tropical species can occur at any time. Big Bend National Park is an extremely exciting place to bird! One species—the Colima warbler—occurs nowhere else north of the border. Second, Big Bend contains a tremendous variety of animals and plants, all interacting in ways that cannot help but amaze the observer. One cannot assume anything in Big Bend. Nature has provided the Big Bend country with a huge assortment of endemic species; each sprang from more widespread species, evolving into what they are today because of their unique environment. Finally, Big Bend National Park contains a special essence that is rather addictive, something that is difficult to articulate. It includes an assortment of sights, sounds, and smells that gradually permeate one's soul so that they cannot be ignored. Early mornings in the desert, with its abundant lechuguilla, ocotillo, and cacti, the distant cries of coyotes and the dawn chorus of birds, and the smell of the desert, are truly magnificent. So are the sounds of silence available in the desert. Nowhere else have I been able to refocus so well as in Big Bend. The subtle murmur of the breeze stirring the desert plants is what has maintained my sanity over the years.

174 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Those sounds are therapy that help me blend into the natural environment; they make me part of the scene and cure my ills. Henry David Thoreau understood the need for silence. He wrote, "I love to be alone. I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude" (1942: 95). And Sigurd Olson, in referring to wilderness, stated that it "is a spiritual necessity, an antidote to the high pressure of modern life, a means of regaining serenity and equilibrium" (1963). These are some of the reasons for my love of Big Bend National Park. For thirty years I have enjoyed the Big Bend country. I have experienced its grand scenery and varied wildlife, marveled at the resiliency of the desert vegetation, and watched the changing landscape. And now, looking back on those thirty years, I cannot help but think of the changes that have occurred, good and bad, subtle and obvious. When I first hiked through Laguna Meadow to the South Rim and back through Boulder Meadow and Juniper Flat, those areas were dominated by bare ground with only a scattering of stipa grasses. Yellownosed cottonrats, native rodents that live among these grasses, were few and far between. We placed dead limbs of junipers along the trail to protect the few grassy patches so they could expand. Today, those same areas are dominated by thick stipa grass meadows, and the cottonrats have become common once again. While mammologists A. E. Borell and M. D. Bryant (1942) found them only in Laguna and Boulder Meadows and Pine Canyon in 1940, yellownosed cottonrats can be found throughout the Chisos Mountains and even into lower Green Gulch today. The lush grasslands of the Chisos Mountains experienced more than half a century of continuous abuse from overgrazing, starting in the i88os. In 1942, when the State of Texas purchased most of the privately owned ranches within the area for a national park, the ranches were granted free grazing privileges until the actual creation of the park in 1944. At the time of purchase, 3,880 cattle, 9,000 sheep, 25,700 goats, and 310 horses were resident. In 1944 and 1945, however, up to 25,000 cattle, 8,000 sheep, 18,000 goats, and 1,000 horses were removed from the park area. The ranchers had taken advantage of the two-year grace period and increased the num-

A F T E R W O R D 175 bers of cattle utilizing the range far beyond the carrying capacity, causing severe degradation of the grasslands. Although it will never be known how many wells and dirt tanks were constructed during the ranching years, one thing is certain. It was during this period that the springs began to decline rapidly, resulting in the need for additional watering facilities, including piping of water from distant springs, often by closing off all free flow. Springs that had long served as valuable water sources for both humans and wildlife were depleted. A by-product of ranching was predator control. Rancher Homer Wilson actually built miles of "panther-proof" fences. Government and private trappers maintained semipermanent trapping camps. A local Panther Club paid $25 for each mountain lion killed. Castolon's La Harmonia Company bought and sold pelts, and according to Brewster County historian Clifford Casey (1969), business continued at a lively pace until about 1940. La Harmonia shipped fifty gray wolf hides to a dealer back east in 1925, probably the height of the trapping program. Although regular shipments usually were confined to raccoon, beaver,javelina, skunk, gray fox, and bobcat, wolf and bighorn pelts were occasionally included as well. Nor were golden eagles ignored in the ranchers' predator control measures. According to Virginia Madison (1968), from 1930 to 1942, game warden Ray Williams killed 2,500 golden eagles during 1,400 hours of flying, an average of nearly two eagles an hour. The status of native wildlife at the time the park was established was reasonably well documented by several biological surveys. Although black bear populations had survived the ranching years, the heavy land use during the last two years, coupled with several severe drought years, totally wiped out the remaining population. The wolf, ocelot, and perhaps also the jaguar had already been wiped out by predator control measures (a breeding population of the jaguar may never have occurred within the Big Bend). The last known desert bighorn was shot by a hunter near Santa Elena Canyon in 1916. The status of birds during the prepark years is not so well documented. Swainson's hawks and, perhaps, golden eagles were more com-

176 FOR ALL S E A S O N S mon during the ranching years. The more open range supported higher populations of black-tailed jackrabbits, a prime golden eagle prey species. The aplomado falcon, a resident bird that preys primarily on birds, lizards, and small mammals of the yucca grasslands, disappeared during this same period. Population declines of wild turkeys and Montezuma quail also occurred during the ranching years. Turkeys "were exterminated by hunters, predators and an increasingly unfavorable environment," according to Ross Maxwell (1985: 41). Montezuma quail suffered a similar decline, and Maxwell reported that the last known covey was eliminated in 1936-1937 by local Civilian Conservation Corporation enrollees, who "chased the quail, killed them with a stick, and enjoyed a quail barbecue" (1985: 41). On the Rio Grande floodplain, the eradication of yellow warblers provides an example of secondary change brought about by the ranching years. According to Josselyn Van Tyne and G. M. Sutton (1937), the yellow warbler was a common nesting species during the 1930s, but it was totally gone by the 19605 (Wauer 1973). This loss is attributed to increased populations of brown-headed cowbirds, which are known to be attracted to cattle and the readily available seed in cattle droppings. Cowbirds are brood parasites that lay eggs in songbird nests, a practice that over time can literally wipe out populations of preferred host species. Vegetative conditions in the Chisos Mountains and foothills were at an all-time low in 1944. To make matters worse, the fifty-nine years of grazing ended with a number of severe drought years. Oaks were wiped out in many of the lower canyons, and there was a significant die-off of Arizona pines and other highland conifers in the mountains. The oak-savannah vegetation in Green Gulch was replaced with a shrub-juniper habitat. Aridland plants were able to move farther up the slopes, often getting a foothold in the highest parts of the Chisos Mountains. Within only a few years after cattle were removed from park lands, some vegetation began to recover. The Chisos Mountains grasslands responded almost immediately. Thickets of thorny shrubs that had resulted from overgrazing but were also controlled by grazing appeared in the canyon bottoms. Pockets of phreatophytes formed in nonmaintained

A F T E R W O R D 177 earthen stock tanks and along deteriorating pipelines and ditches. However, the more arid lowlands that had been denuded of vegetation and badly eroded, such as Tornillo Flat, showed little or no recovery. The native pronghorns, once plentiful within the lowlands north of the Chisos Mountains, could not recover. Although a grassland restoration program was undertaken on Tornillo Flat by the Soil Conservation Service soon after park establishment, the reintroduction of 136 head of pronghorn there in 1947 and 1948 failed. Even today, the Tornillo Flat grasslands cannot support a viable population of pronghorns. Some of the most exciting recoveries have occurred through the natural return of two large predators, mountain lions and black bears. Although there are no data on mountain lion distribution and abundance prior to the ranching years, most biologists believe that lions resided primarily in the uplands, held in check perhaps by wolves, which resided primarily in the lowlands. Both these large carnivores preferred deer but occasionally also took smaller creatures. Both lions and wolves were heavily persecuted during the ranching years. Wolves were totally eliminated, but mountain lions managed to hold on. Even after the park was established, predator control continued outside the park, primarily on sheep range, and undoubtedly kept the population of these far-ranging mammals at a minimum. Predator control specialist Roy McBride of Alpine told me that lion as well as coyote numbers in West Texas "were at an all-time low by 1960." At about the same time, mule deer populations exploded. The increase in the park was due to the recovering grasslands, following the removal of livestock, and also to the eradication of the screwworm, which had contributed to deer decline since its introduction into Texas about 1842. During the early 19603, the market for sheep and wool declined to the point that most West Texas sheep ranchers went out of business. So did predator control. In adjacent Mexico, at about this same time ranches were being purchased primarily for recreation, not ranching, so predator control activities also declined south of the border. As might be expected, mountain lion populations began to increase. They soon were being reported regularly throughout the Big Bend coun-

178 FOR ALL S E A S O N S try, including places where they had never or rarely been reported before. In Big Bend National Park, lion sightings increased annually throughout the 19705 and 19805. By the 19905, undoubtedly due to the increased lion population, mule deer populations showed a marked decline. But within only a few years, a decline of mountain lion reports followed. By spring 1996,1 began to detect an increase in mule deer numbers. The return of black bears to the national park was even more exciting. The first park report in many years was that of a lone bear, photographed by Bill Rabenstein, near Hot Springs in spring 1969. It undoubtedly represented a wanderer from Mexico's Sierra del Carmens, where the species was reasonably common. Next, Dave Brown and I found fresh evidence of bears in Juniper Canyon in February 1977. Since then bears have been reported consistently, with the first sow with cubs in 1978. The park staff estimated that fifteen to twenty black bears were residing within the park by spring 1996. Wildlife biologists estimate that "the Chisos Mountains can support up to 30 adult bears" (Manning 1996:3). I also have detected considerable change in the park bird life in thirty years. Only once during my six-year residency (1966-1972) did I see a golden-fronted woodpecker in the park. But now this bird is commonplace along the Rio Grande at Rio Grande Village and Cottonwood Campground. There also is good evidence that varied buntings and blackchinned sparrows have increased in numbers. Both species were considered rare before 1937, according to Van Tyne and Sutton, but sightings have increased considerably since the late 19605. Breeding varied buntings are now commonplace in weedy drainages between 3,400 and 5,000 feet elevation, such as along Oak and Cottonwood Creeks, at Government Spring, and north of Dugout Wells. Breeding black-chinned sparrows are common on brushy slopes between 4,500 and 6,500 feet elevation. Several new bird species have appeared and begun to nest in the park during the last thirty years. The first Cooper's hawk nests were recorded at Rio Grande Village and Cottonwood Campground in 1992 and 1993. Gray hawks, a bird that was recorded only three times before 1971, have nested at Rio Grande Village annually since 1988. Western scrub-jays were first detected in Green Gulch in 1967, and a small population has begun to expand there since the early 1990s. Carolina wrens have also moved into the park in

A F T E R W O R D 179 recent years; although there are no nesting records, they were recorded at Rio Grande Village all spring and summer of 1996. Lucy's warblers began to appear at scattered locations along the Rio Grande in the 19605, and at least since 1986 they have nested at Cottonwood Campground. Bronzed cowbirds first appeared in 1969 and began parasitizing oriole nests the following year; their numbers have increased annually. Although increases and decreases in the bird life are extremely difficult to document (changes can be attributed to various factors, especially the amount of precipitation and resultant seed crops, and so population changes can be cyclic in nature), a few population declines are evident. Like the yellow warblers, which were decimated by increasing numbers of brown-headed cowbirds, the number of breeding orioles, especially in the Rio Grande Village and Hot Springs area, has declined. This is probably the result of increasing numbers of bronzed cowbirds. Black-capped vireo numbers also declined during the 19805 and the first half of the 19905, also due, undoubtedly, to brood parasitism by brownheaded cowbirds. But with the closure of the Chisos Remuda, a magnet for feeding cowbirds, black-capped vireo populations are expected to recover. One of the most obvious indicators of change is the increased numbers of native cottonwood trees that have begun to appear in foothill arroyos that had not supported these trees for half a century. Cut for building construction and mine timbers, all the mature cottonwoods had disappeared by the turn of the century. But as the mountain grasslands gradually recovered, more of the valuable rainfall seeped into the groundwater to eventually resurface at lower elevations. Cottonwood Creek and Hannold Draw are two examples of recovering watercourses where, by 1994, in spite of its being the third year of a drought, these drainages flowed for several hundred yards or more and supported numerous cottonwoods and other phreatophytes. Cottonwood Campground is one of the park's best birding sites today. But thirty years ago it had little more than a few dozen young trees that could support very few of the resident and migratory birds. In recent years, this area has attracted a number of truly unusual migrants and nesting species, including tropical and thick-billed kingbirds and Lucy's warbler. Some other positive changes in the park's natural resources are di-

i8o FOR ALL S E A S O N S rectly related to actions undertaken by the park staff. The construction of two Big Bend gambusia ponds at Rio Grande Village has increased the survival chances for this endemic and endangered fish. The partial closures of the roads into Pine and Juniper Canyons and Cattail Falls so that these destinations require at least an additional mile hike have significantly protected those areas. The 1995 closure of the Chisos Remuda was another positive step that benefited the park's natural resources. It will not only reduce cowbird numbers throughout the mountains but also reduce nonnative plants that are distributed by the horses. Hikers will also appreciate cleaner and safer trails (Window and South Rim Trails) that are not dominated by flies and the smell of ammonia. Finally, with the addition of the Hart Ranch near Persimmon Gap and the Lower Canyons receiving Wild and Scenic River designation, along with the establishment of the Big Bend Ranch State Park on the west side, the overall acreage of protected lands within the Big Bend has almost doubled. The underground installation of fiber-optic cables throughout the park in 1996, to be followed by the removal of most of the unsightly utility poles, will greatly enhance the wilderness character of the area. At the same time, the entire Big Bend country has experienced gradually deteriorating water and air quality, at least since the 19705. During the 19605, I was able to drink the water flowing in Boot and Pine Canyons and at dozens of desert springs. No more! By the mid-1970s, Giardia (a diarrhea-causing protozoan) had become a factor, affecting the water quality throughout the park. While clear, clean skies with normal visibility of up to two hundred miles were typical thirty years ago, moderately hazy views on most days, with poor conditions of less than thirty miles visibility 6 percent of the time, are today's norm. On a few days each year, Big Bend experiences the worst air quality, in terms of visibility impairment, within any western national park. It is unlikely to get any better, as two coal-fired electricitygenerating power plants operate near Piedras Negras, Mexico, about 125 miles to the southeast of the park. Neither plant is equipped with control devices for sulfur dioxide, particulates that create a white haze and play an important role in the formation of acid rain. Park Service scientists believe

A F T E R W O R D 181 that Big Bend will experience as much as 60 percent reduced visibility on the clearest summer days. A binational working group, including representatives of the NFS and EPA, along with their counterparts in Mexico, has been established to discuss solutions to the problem of air pollution. Consideration is being given to the installation of extremely expensive scrubber devices, the effects of using locally mined low-quality coal, and modification of the plants to burn a cleaner fuel. Your voice in support of cleaner air may be essential. The vast majority of park visitors see only the obvious. They detect very few changes in the landscape. The massive canyons, the stately peaks and ridges, and the vast expanse of desert remain the same. But when they can no longer see the distant cliffs of Mexico's Sierra del Carmens or Santiago Peak to the north because of poor air quality, they will take notice. As for me, I will continue to go to the Big Bend to get renewed and watch the birds and other wildlife. I will continue to walk the mountain trails and wander across the desert. I will continue to listen to the dawn chorus of birds, the cries of the coyotes, and the silent breezes.

Question Mark Butterfly

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Common and Scientific Plant Names Agarito. Berberis trifoliolata. Allthorn. Koeberlinia spinosa. Arizona cypress. Cupressus arizonica. Arizona pine. Pinus arizonica. Arrowweed. Tessaria sericea. Beargrass. Nolina erumpens. Bicolor cactus. Thelocactus bicolor. Big Bend cane cholla. Opuntia imbricata var. argentea. Big Bend century plant. Agave havardiana. Bisquit cactus. Mammillaria vivipara var. radiosa. Blackbrush acacia. Acacia rigidula. Black dalea. Daleafrutescens. Blind pricklypear. Opuntia rufida. Button cactus. Epithelantha bokei. Brown-flowered cactus. Echinocereus russanthus. Brownspine pricklypear. Opuntia phaecantha. Caliche bahia. Bahia absinthifolia. Candelilla. Euphorbia antisyphilitica. Cane. Arundinaria gigantea. Cane cholla. Opuntia imbricata. Cardinal flower. Lobelia cardinalis. Catclaw cactus. Echinocactus uncinatus wrightii. Catclaw mimosa. Mimosa biuncifera. Cat-tail. Typha angustifolia. Ceniza. Leucophyllumfrutescens. Century plant. Agave havardiana.

184 FOR ALL S E A S O N S

Chisos agave. Agave glomeruliflora. Chisos bluebonnet. Lupinus havardii. Chisos oak. Quercus graciliformis. Chisos pitaya. Echinocereus chisosensis. Chisos pricklypear. Opuntia lindheimeri var. chisosensis. Club cholla. Opuntia aggeria. Coahuila scrub oak. Quercus intricata. Cob cactus. Coryphantha tuberculosa. Common buttonbush. Cephalanthus occidentalis. Cordgrass. Spartina pectinata. Creosotebush. Larrea tridentata. Date palm. Phoenix spp. Desert baileya. Baileya multiradiata. Desert ceanothus. Ceanothus greggii. Desert hackberry. Celtis pallida. Desert olive. Forestiera angustifolia. Desert sumac. Rhus microphylla. Desert verbena. Verbena wrightii. Desertwillow. Chilopsis linearis. Devil cholla. Opuntia schottii. Devil's claw. Echinocactus texensis. Devil's head. Echinocactus horizonthalonius. Dog cholla. Opuntia aggeria. Duncan's cactus. Mammillaria duncanii. Edwards nicollet. Nicolletia edwardsii. Eggleaf silktassel. Garry a ovata. Emory oak. Quercus emoryi. Engelmann's pricklypear. Opuntia engelmannii. Euphorbia. Euphorbia serrula. Evergreen sumac. Rhus virens.

C O M M O N AND S C I E N T I F I C P L A N T N A M E S 185 Fendler bladder-pod. Lesquerellafendleri. Fourwing saltbush. Atriplex canescens. Foxtail cactus. Mammillaria pottsii. Fragrant sumac. Rhus aromatica. Giant dagger. Yucca faxoniana. Golf-ball cactus. Mammillaria lasiacantha. Goodding willow. Salix gooddingii. Gray oak. Quercus grisea. Gregg ash. Fraxinus greggii. Guayacan. Porlieria angustifolia. Havard agave. Agave havardiana. Havard nama. Nama havardii. Hillside vervain. Verbena necmexicana. Honey mesquite. Prosopis glandulosa. Javelinabush. Condalia ericoides. Leatherstem. Jatropha dioica. Lechuguilla. Agave lechuguilla. Limoncillo. Pectis tenella. Littleleaf sumac. Rhus microphylla. Little walnut. Juglans microcarpa. Living rock. Ariocarpusfissuratus. Long mamma. Mammillaria macromeris. Longspur columbine. Aquilegia longissima. Mariola. Parthenium incanum. Mesa greggia. Nerisyrenia camporum. Mescat acacia. Acacia constricta. Mexican pinyon. Pinus cembroides. Mormon tea. Ephedra sp.

i86 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Mountain cob cactus. Mammillaria dasyacantha. Mountainmahogany. Cercocarpus montanus. Mountain sage. Salvia regla. Narrowleaf cottonwood. Populus angustifolia. Needlegrass. Stipa sp. Netleaf hackberry. Celtis reticulata. New Mexico dalea. Dalea neomexicana. Nipple cactus. Mammillaria meicantha. Night-blooming cactus. Cereus greggii. Ocotillo. Fouquieria spkndens. Oleander. Nerium oleander. Pancake pincushion cactus. Mammillaria heyderi var. applanata. Pink vervain. Verbena ambrosifolia. Purple-tinged pricklypear. Opuntia macrocentra. Quaking aspen. Populus tremuloides. Range ratany. Kramer ia grandulosa. Red berry juniper. Juniperus pinchotii. Salt cedar. Tamarix sp. Sea-urchin cactus. Mammillaria echinus. Senna. Cassia durangensis. Seepwillow. Baccharis salicifolia. Slender-spined pitaya. Echinocereus pectinatus var. minor. Skeletonleaf goldeneye. Viguiera stenoloba. Soaptree yucca. Yucca elata. Sotol. Dasylirion leiophyllum. Strawberry cactus. Echinocereus enneacanthus var. stramineus. Strawberry hedgehog. Echinocereus enneacanthus var. dubius. Stewart's gilia. Gilia stewartii.

C O M M O N AND S C I E N T I F I C PLANT NAMES 187 Stream orchis. Epipactis gigantea. Sycamore. Platanus occidentalis. Tarbush. Flourensia cernua. Tasajillo. Opuntia leptocaulis. Texas buckeye. Ungnadia speciosa. Texas claret-cup. Echinocereus triglochidiatus var. gurneyi. Texas falseagave. Hechtia texensis. Texas filaree. Erodium texanum. Texas madrone. Arbutus xalapensis. Texas persimmon. Diospyros texana. Texas rainbow pitaya. Echinocereus pectinatus var. neomexicanus. Torrey yucca. Yucca torreyi. Tree tobacco. Nicotiana glauca. Turk's head. Echinocactus hamatacanthus. Whitebrush. Aloysia gratissima. White-flowered cactus. Echinocactus erectocentrus var. pallidus. Woolly dogweed. Dyssodia pentachaeta. Woolly paper-flower. Psilostrophe tagetina. Woven-spine pineapple cactus. Echinocactus intertextus.

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References American Ornithologists' Union. 1957. Check-list of North American Birds, Fifth Edition. Baltimore, Md.: Lord Baltimore Press. . 1983. Check-list of North American Birds, Sixth Edition. American Ornithologists' Union. Baker, James K. 1962. Association of Cave Swallows with Cliff and Barn Swallows. Condor 64:326. Barlow,Jon C., and Roland H. Wauer. 1971. The Gray Vireo (Vireo vicinior Coues; Aves: Vireonidae) Wintering in the Big Bend Region, West Texas. Canadian Journal of Zoology 49(6): 953-955. Bent, Arthur Cleveland. 1964. Life Histories of North American Cuckoos, Goatsuckers, Hummingbirds and Their Allies. New York: Dover Publications. Bissonette, John A. 1982. Ecology and Social Behavior of the Collared Peccary in Big Bend National Park. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service. Blake, Emmet Reid. 1953. Birds of Mexico. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Borell, A. E., and M. D. Bryant. 1942. Mammals of the Big Bend Area of Texas. Univ. California Publ. Zool. 48:1-62. Brandt, Herbert. 1940. Texas Bird Adventures. Cleveland, Ohio: Bird Research Foundation. Brown, William E., and Roland H. Wauer. 1968. Historic Resources Management Plan: Big Bend National Park. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service. Casey, Clifford B. 1969. Soldiers, Ranchers and Miners in the Big Bend. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service. Conant, Roger. 1958. A Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of Eastern North America. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co.

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. 1975. A Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of Eastern and Central North America. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co. Correll, Donovan Stewart, and Marshall Conring Johnston. 1970. Manual of the Vascular Plants of Texas. Renner: Texas Research Foundation. Crawford, C. S. 1976. Feeding-Season Production in the Desert Millipede Orthoporus ornatus (Girard) (Diplopoda). Oecologia 24: 265-276. Degenhardt, William G. 1977. A Changing Environment: Documentation of Lizards and Plants over a Decade. In Transactions of the Symposium on the Biological Resources of the Chihuahuan Desert Region: United States and Mexico, ed. Roland H. Wauer and David H. Riskind. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service. Dobie, J. Frank. 1981. Coronado's Children. Austin: University of Texas Press. Fell, Barry. 1980. Saga America. New York: Times Books. Gertsch, W. J., and M. Soleglad. 1972. Studies of North American Scorpions of the Genera Uroctonus and Vejovis (Scorpionida, Vejovidae). Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History 148(4): 549608.

Headstrom, Richard. 1951. Birds3 Nests of the West. New York: Ives Washburn. Hill, Robert T. 1901. Running the Canyons of the Rio Grande. Century Magazine 61:371-387. Howarth, Virginia. 1976. Water Source Report for Big Bend National Park, Texas—Wauer Spring. Report to National Park Service, i p. Hubbs, Clark, and Roland Wauer. 1973. Seasonal Changes in the Fish Fauna of Tornillo Creek, Brewster County, Texas. Southwestern Naturalist 17(4): 375 -379. Hubbs, Clark, James E. Johnson, and Roland H. Wauer. 1977. Habitat Management Plan for Big Bend Gambusia, Big Bend National Park, Texas, 1977. Report to National Park Service, 26 pp. Kendall, Roy 0.1971. The Rhopalocera of Big Bend National Park, Texas. Report to the National Park Service, 53 pp.

R E F E R E N C E S 191 Kenney, Nathaniel T. 1968. Big Bend Jewel in the Texas Desert. National Geographic (January): 104-133. Krausman, Paul R., and Ernest D. Abies. 1981. Ecology of the Carmen Mountains White-tailed Deer. Washington, B.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service. Madison, Virginia. 1968. The Big Bend Country of Texas. New York: October House. Manning, Mary Kay. 1996. Big Bend Bears. Big Bend Paisano (newspaper) (Spring/Summer): 6. Marshall, Joe T.Jr. 1967. Parallel Variation in North and Middle American Screech-Owls. Los Angeles: Monographs of the Western Foundation of Vertebrate Zoology, 1-72. Maxwell, Ross A. 1968. The Big Bend of the Rio Grande. Bureau of Economic Geology, University of Texas at Austin. . 1985. Big Bend Country. Texas: Big Bend Natural History Association. McBride, Roy T. 1974. The Status and Ecology of the Mountain Lion (Felts concolor Stanley ana] of the Texas-Mexico Border. Master's thesis, Sul Ross State University, Alpine, Texas. McGee, Bernice and Jack. 1972. Mystery Tablet of the Big Bend. True West (July-August): 10-15,42-47,50. National Audubon Society. 1981. National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Neck, Raymond W. 1996. Texas Monthly Field Guide Series: A Field Guide to Butterflies of Texas. Houston: Gulf Publishing Co. North American Butterfly Association. 1995. Checklist & English Names of North American Butterflies. Morristown, N.J.: North American Butterfly Association. Olson, Sigurd. 1963. The Singing Wilderness. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Peterson, Roger Tory, and Edward L. Chalif. 1973. A Field Guide to Mexican Birds. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co. Pospisit,JoAnn. 1994. Chihuahuan Desert Candililla: Folk Gathering of a Regional Resource. Journal of Big Bend Studies 6: 59-73.

192 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Powell, A. Michael. 1988. Trees & Shrubs of Trans-Pecos Texas. Texas: Big Bend Natural History Association. Pratt, Lloyd L. 1971. Humboltiana agavophile, a New Helmanthoglyptid Land Snail from the Chisos Mountains, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Southwestern Naturalist 15: 429-435. Raitt, Ralph J. 1967. Relationship between Black-eared and Plain-eared Forms of Bushtits (Psaltriparus). The Auk 84: 503-528. Ralston, Barbara E., and Richard H. Hilsenbeck. 1989. Taxonomy of the Opuntia schottii Complex (Cactaceae) in Texas. Madrono 36(4): 221-231. Schmidly, David J. 1977. The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas. College Station: Texas A&M University Press. Strong, P. I. V., and J. A. Bissonette. 1981. Management Report: BeaverCottonwood Interactions in Big Bend National Park, 1980-1981. Report to National Park Service, 66 pp. Sudia, W. D., et al. 1975. Epidemic Venezuelan Encephalitis in North America in 1971: Vertebrate Field Studies. In Epidemic Venezuelan Equine Encephalitis in North America in 1971,36 -50. Sutton, George M. 1951. Mexican Birds—First Impressions. Norman: University of Oklahoma. Terrill, Scott B. 1983. Cassin's Sparrow. In The Audubon Society Master Guide to Birding, ed. John Farrand Jr. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Texas Bird Records Committee. 1995. Checklist of the Birds of Texas, Third Edition. Austin: Texas Ornithological Society. Thoreau, Henry David. 1942. Walden, or Life in the Woods. New York: New American Library. Trails Illustrated. 1994. Big Bend National Park, Texas. Evergreen, Colo.: Trails Illustrated. U.S. Department of the Interior. 1980. Environmental Assessment for the General Development Plan: Rio Grande Wild and Scenic River, Texas. National Park Service, Denver Service Center. Van Pelt, Arnold. 1983. Ants of the Chisos Mountains, Texas (Hymenoptera: Formicidae). Southwestern Naturalist 28(2): 137-142.

R E F E R E N C E S 193 Van Tyne, Josselyn, and G. M. Sutton. 1937. The Birds of Brewster County, Texas. Occas. Publ. MILS. Zool. Univ. Mich. 37:1-119. Wauer, Roland H. 1967. First Thick-billed Kingbird Record for Texas. Southwestern Naturalist 12(4): 469-487. . 1968. The Groove-billed Ani in Texas. Southwestern Naturalist 13(4): 452. . 1969. Winter Bird Records from the Chisos Mountains and Vicinity. Southwestern Naturalist 14(2): 249-259. . i97Oa. Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River. Texas: Big Bend Natural History Association. . I97ob. The Occurrence of the Black-vented Oriole, Icterus wagleri, in the United States. The Auk 87(4): 811-812. . 197OC. A Second Swallow-tailed Kite Record for Trans-Pecos Texas. Wilson Bulletin 82(4): 462. . 1973. Status of Certain Parulids of West Texas. Southwestern Naturalist18(1): 105-110. . 1980. Naturalist's Big Bend. College Station: Texas A&M University Press. . 1994. Report on Five Breeding Bird Study Plots at Big Bend National Park. Report to National Park Service, 45 pp. . 1995. Second Report on Five Breeding Bird Surveys at Big Bend National Park, Texas. Report to National Park Service, 48 pp. . 1996. A Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend. Houston: Gulf Publishers. Wauer, Roland H., et al. 1971. Hiker's Guide to the Developed Trails and Primitive Routes. Texas: Big Bend Natural History Association. Wauer, Roland H., and George Burdick. 1975. Range Extension of Mediterranean Gecko in Coahuila, Mexico. Southwestern Naturalist 19(4): 446. Wauer, Roland H., and Donald G. Davis. 1972. Cave Swallows in Big Bend

National Park, Texas. Condor 74(4): 482. Wauer, Roland H., and M. K. Rylander. 1968. Anna's Hummingbird in West Texas. The Auk 85: 501.

194 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Wauer, Roland H., and James F. Scudday, 1972. Occurrence and Status of Certain Charadriiformes in the Texas Big Bend Country. Southwestern Naturalist 17(2): 210-211. Wells, Phillip V. 1966. Late Pleistocene Vegetation and Degree of Pluvial Climatic Change in the Chihuahuan Desert. Science 153: 970-975. Whitson, Martha. 1976. Courtship Behavior of the Greater Roadrunner. The Living Bird (June): 215-255. Whitson, Paul D. 1974. The Impact of Human Use upon the Chisos Basin and Adjacent Lands. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service.

Index Boldface type indicates illustrations. Abies, Ernest D., 90 acacia, 49; mescat, 26, 167 aerial tramway, 7 aerial views: Persimmon Gap, photo section; Sierra del Carmens, photo section agarito, 49 agave: Big Bend, 107; Chisos, 107; Havard, 86 air pollution, 181 air quality, 180 Alamo Creek, 45 Allan, Philip, 23 Allen, Roy, 11 allthorn, 50 Alpine, Texas, 17 Alto Relex, 24 American Ornithologists' Union, 20, 34 AmeriCorps, 160 Anderson, Guy, 172 ani, groove-billed, 80, 107-108 Apache Canyon, 22 Arizona Fish and Game Department, 3 Arnold, Red, 128 Asa Jone's waterworks, 129 ash, Gregg, 12, 78, 83, 87 Ash Spring, 160 aspen, quaking, 107, 108, 153 avocet, American, 136

badger, 92 -93, no bahia, caliche, 26

baileya, desert, 26 Bailie, Jim, 34 Baker, James, 82 Baker, John, 43, 128 Baker, Ted, 166 banding (birds), 11, 23, 54, 68, 80, 88, 98, 115, 125, 131, 150, 166 Banks, Richard, 19 Banta Shut-In, 159 Barbee, Bob, xi, 171 Barker House, 48 Barlow, Jon, xi, 2, 74, 75, 7$- 79, §3; and Roland H. Wauer, article in Canadian Journal of Zoology, 167 Basin Junction, 67, 109, 146 bat: evening, 166; Townsend's bigeared, 95 Baylor University, 43 bear, black, 19, 66-67, 70-73, 71, 157, 175, 177, 178 beargrass, 17 beaver, 141- 142, 175 Belisle, Harold, 43 Bellamy, Anne, xi Bender, Charles, 135 Bent, Arthur Cleveland, 94 Berger, Byron, 80 Big Bend National Park, 98, 113, 133,

152, 153, 172, 173, 174, 178 Big Bend Natural History Association, 53,56,61,82,159 Big Bend Ranch State Park, 180 Big Bend tablet, 145-146

196 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Big Canyon, 43, 129 bighorn, desert, 175 Big Tinaja Store, 164 Bird Ecology Seminar, 61, 66 Bishop, Sam, xi, 18 Bishop, Sarah, xi Bissonette, John, xi, 142; Ecology and Social Behavior of the Collared Peccary in Big Bend National Park, 159-160 bittern: American, 78; least, 76 blackbird: Brewer's, 56, 79, 133, 137; red- winged, 56; rusty, 167, 170; yellow-headed, 127, 133 Black Gap Wildlife Management Area, 43, 128, 129, 132, 169 bladder-pod, Fendler, 26 Blake, Emmet R.: Birds of Mexico, 134 bluebird: eastern 52, 171; mountain, 47; western, 155-156 bluebonnet, Chisos, 26 Blue Creek Canyon, 9, 11, 17, 27, 46, 48,61,74,77,87,168 bobcat, 90, 164 -165, 175 Bonito Spring, 160 Boot Canyon, 12, 41, 43, 49~5, 57, 61, 70, 74, 76, 77, 88, 114, 116, 118, 134, 139,147,153,180 Boot Spring, n, 12, 22, 23, 32, 41, 50, 70, 74, 75, 80, 93, 116, 118, 134, 139, 140, 147, 148 Boquillas, Mexico, 102 Boquillas Canyon, 7, 8, 18, 31, 36, 81,

102, 142, 154 Boquillas Crossing, 41, 47, 48 Boquillas Del Carmen Mining Company, 7 Borell,A. £.,174 Boulder Meadow, 174 Bourbon, Bill and Sarah, 62

Bradshaw, Regan, 128 Brandow, Gary, 11 Brandt, Herbert: Texas Bird Adventures , 52,117 -118 breeding bird surveys, 54~55> 5$-59, 86 Brown, Dave, xi, 3 -4, 19, 178 Brown, William E. (Bill): and Roland H. Wauer, Historic Resources Management Plan, 46 Brownsville, Texas, 166 Bryant, M. D., 174 buckeye, Texas, 12, 51, 78 Bullis Gap, 132 bunting: indigo, 89; lark, 33, 35, 42, 56, 118, 134, 144, 171; lazuli, 59, 76, 172; painted, 55, 59, 68, 69, 125, 131, 133; varied, 56, 59, 69, 74-75, 87, 91, 105,124-125,171,178 Burdick, George, xi, 102, 150 Bureau of Outdoor Recreation, 43, 128 Burleson, Bob, xi, 43, 128, 129, 158 Burleson, Harry, 43 Burleson, Mickey, xi, 158 Burr, Eric, 107 Burro Bluff, 130 Burro Bluff Rapids, 130 Burro Mesa, 21 Burro Spring, 160 bushtit,35,50,77 butterflies, 88, 119-120, 181 buttonbush, common, 147 cactus, photo section; bicolor, 24; biscuit, 143; brown-flowered, 10, 11, 21, 32, 39, 87, 143, 168; button, 8, 24; catclaw, 6, 25, 87, photo section; Christmas, 143; cob, 8, 10, 21, 25, 26, 32, 39, 143; Duncan's, 6; foxtail, 5-6; golf-ball, 6, 8, 25, 26,32,39;

I N D E X 197 mountain cob, 6, 22, 25, 143, 168; night-blooming, 53; nipple, 32, 39, 87, 143, 168; sea-urchin, 6, 8, 21, 22, 25, 26, 143; strawberry, 6, 10, 21, 22, 25, 39, 87, 143, 168; survey, 6, 7-8, 10, 21, 22, 25, 32, 143; woven-spine pineapple, 8, 22, 87 Cahn, Bob and Pat, 156-157 Campground Canyon, 78, 80, 83, 89, 121 candelilla, 16, 17 candelilla wax, 16-17, 5X, 13° candelilla wax plant, 16 - 17, photo section cardinal, northern, 22, 55, 7°, 105, 131, 133, 147, 170 cardinal flower, 51 Carithers, Joe, 56 Carrico,Jim, 156-157 Casa Grande, 50, 114, 141, 153, 159 Casey, Clifford, 175 Castle Butte, 129 Castolon, 18, 33, 37, 45, 46, 53, 136, 146, 149, 156, 166, 171 catbird, gray, 172 Cattail Falls, 9, 51, 55, 123, 180 ceanothus, desert, 17 Cedar Spring, 27, 48 ceniza, 8, 154, 167 Ceniza Flat, 154 -155 Center for Disease Control (CDC), 166 centipede, giant desert, 116, 117 century plant, 85, 86, 89, 90-91, 105, 107 Cernan, Eugene, 38 Cerro Castolon, 38 Chalif, Edward L., 134 chat, yellow-breasted, 55, 59, 66, 105, 125,131 Chilicotal Mountain, 114, 161

Chilicotal Spring, 160 Chimneys, The, 2, 167 Chimney Trail, 167 Chisos Basin, 17, 27, 35, 37, 50, 54, 60,

61, 74, 75, 76, 95, 96, 98, 99, 103, 114, 123-124, 135, 152, 154, 155, 162, 164, 167, photo section Chisos Basin Amphitheater, 42, 105, 112 Chisos Mountain Lodge, 37, 155, 156 Chisos Mountains, 10, 11, 19, 27, 31, 39, 48, 67, 69, 75, 88, 90, 105, 108, 109,

115, 117, 120, 124, 141, 152, 157, 158, 161, 166, 169, 171, 174, 176 Chisos Remuda, 179, 180 cholla: Big Bend cane, 22; cane, 1, 8, 10, 21,39, 87, 169-170; club, 87; devil, 21, 22, 24; dog, 8, 22, 25, 26, 32, 143; pencil, 143 Christmas Bird Count, 2, 163; in Chisos Mountains, 171; at Rio Grande Village, 170; in Santa Elena Canyon, 171 -172 Cicada Spring, 160 Ciudad Acuna, Mexico, 103 Civilian Conservation Corporation (CCC), 176 Clabaugh, Larry, xi, 23 claret-cup, Texas, 168 Clark, Bob, 43 Clement, Roland, 56 Colima Trail, 88 columbine, longspur, 51, 55 Compton's (historical site), 53 Conant, Isabelle, 136 Conant, Roger, xi, 42; A Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of Eastern North America, 135; on Texas alligator lizard, 148 - 149 Conent, Al, 157 coot, American, 39, 42, 78, 79, 82

198 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Cottam, Clarence, 132 cottonrat, yellow-nosed, 174 cottontail, 61 cottonwood, narrowleaf, 6 Cottonwood Campground, 37, 48, 57, 61, 62, 87, 128, 133, 136, 137, 142, 152, 156, 179 Cottonwood Creek, 21, 105, 178

Court, Jim, 11, 18, 27, 146, 165, 168, 172 Court, Virginia, 146 cowbird: bronzed, 89, 109, 179; brownheaded, 48, 54, 59, 86, 110, 176, 179 Cowden, Tom, 128 coyote, 4, 90, 105, 125, 155, 156, 165, 173, 181 Crabtree, Betty, xi, 76, 170 Crabtree, Charles, xi, 76 crane, sandhill, 18 Crawford, C. S., 118 creeper, brown, 150, 166 creosotebush, 8, 22, 26, 49, 81 crossbill, red, 12, 155 Cross Canyon Trail, 16 cuckoo: black-billed, 93; yellow-billed, 20, 105, 128 Cummings, Cal, 43 curlew, long-billed, 48, 78 cypress, Arizona, 134

Dagger Flat, 39 Dagger Flat Road, 163 Dagger Mountain, 159 dalea, New Mexico, 26 Dallas Museum of Natural History, 30,

89

Daniel Ranch, 31, 48, 56, no Davis, Don, xi, 25, 82, 170 Davis Mountains, 52, 135 Dead Horse Mountains, 25, 30, 143

deer, 48, 154, 161, 177; Carmen Mountains white-tailed, 12, 90, 91, 98, 116, 121-122, 158; mule, 59, 67, 90, 158, 177-178, photo section Degenhardt, William, 93-94 Delaby, Addie and John, xi, 15 dela Ho Spring, 160 Del Norte Mountains, 158 Del Rio, Texas, 103 devil's claw, 25 Devil's Den, 158-159, photo section devil's head, 4, 6, 8, 10, 21, 22, 26, 32, 39,87,143 Dick, James, 75 dickcissel, 118, 127, 131, 133 Dobie,J. Frank: Coronado's Children, 129 Dodson Place, 11

Dodson Spring, 160 Dodson Trail, 11 Dog Canyon, 18, 158, 168, 169 Dog Spring, 160 dogweed, woolly, 26 Dominguez Spring, 160, 168 Douglas, Deborah, xi dove: common ground-, 131, 133; mourning, i, 3, 59, 69, 86, 133, 166, 167, 168, 171; white-fronted, 99; white-winged, 3, 51, 54, 69, 91, 133 Dryden Crossing, 128 duck: American black, 166; ruddy, 141;

wood, 144 Dugout Wells, 38, 54, 55, 57, 61, 99, 120, 122, 156, l6l, 178

eagle, golden, 5, 12, 22, 147, 151- 152, 168,175,176 Easterla, David, xi, 113

I N D E X 199 East Rim, 74, 114, photo section Echinocereus ctenoides, 53 Echols, William E., 169 Eddleman, Doug, 76 Egbert, John, xi, 92, 93 egret: cattle, 133, 150; great, ill, 137 Elephant Spring, 161 Elephant Tusk, 49 El Paso, Texas, 148 Emory Peak, 17, 76, 88, 95, 107, 136, 141, 148, 155 Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), 181 Ernst, Max, 164 Ernst Basin, 7 Ernst Tinaja, 82, 164, photo section Estufa Spring, 159 Evans, Doug, 98 falcon: aplomado, 176; peregrine, 31, 56, 75, 104; prairie, 29 -30 Falcon Dam, 99, 148 fall color, 153 falseagave, Texas, 8, 22, 81 Fell, Barry: Saga America, 146 filaree, Texas, 26 finch: Cassin's, 12; house, 1,3,39,

50, 54, 59, 86, 98, 144, 159, 167, 170 Findley, Mike, 170 fish: Big Bend gambusia, 9, 73, 106; bluegill, 8; blue sucker, 33; Chihuahua shiner, 33; goldfish, 8; gray redhorse, 33; green sunfish, 8; Mexican tetra, 34, 130; mosquitofish, 9, 34; plains killifish, 34; red shiner, 33; river carpsucker, 33 Fleming, Mike, xi flicker, northern, 42, 55, 147, H9, 16?

Flippo, Mark, xi flycatcher, 77; ash- throated, 47, 48, 50, 54, 59, 69, 86, 91, 133; browncrested, 133; cordilleran, 47; dusky, 125, 127, 133, 170, 172; Empidonax, 78, 79; great crested, 125, 150; least, 47, 82, 115, 125, 127, 133; olive-sided, 56, 82, 115, 118, 131; sulphur-bellied, 76; vermilion, 56, 112, 133 Forsythe, John, 160 Fort Davis, Texas, 113, 148 fox: gray, 105, 175; kit, 125 Fresno Creek, 49 Fresno Spring, 161 Friedkin, Joe, 128 Fritz, Ned, xi, 75 gadwall, 42, 47, 82, 136, 167 Galland, Dick, 43 Galley, John, xi, 19, 75, 170, 171 gallinule, purple, 55 gambusia, Big Bend, 9, 73, 106, 180 Gambusia Ponds, 147 Gano Spring, 53 Gap Spring, 161 Garrett, Cecil, 113 Gehlbach,Fred,43 Gerrish, Paul, xi, 9 Gertsch, Willis J., 124 Giardia, 180 gilia, Stewart's, 168 Glenn Spring, 51, 114, 118, photo section gnatcatcher: black-tailed, 50, 59, 86, 144, 167; blue-gray, 42, 69 goldeneye, skeleton-leaf, 12, 167 goldfinch: American 47; lesser, 22, 50,

144 Government Spring, 156, 178

200 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Graber, Bill, xi grackle, great-tailed, 47 Grapevine Hills, 23, 93, *43 grass: cordgrass, 147; stipa, 174 Grater, Russ, xi Gravel Pit, 53 Great Smoky Mountains, 70 grebe: least, 103; pied-billed, in, 137 Green, Aaron A., 51 Greene, Earl, 66 Green Gulch, 10, 54, 55, 61, 66, 75, 85, 93, 108, 112, 122, 131, 169, 174, 176 greggia, mesa, 26 Grimes, Helen, 170, 172 grosbeak: black-headed, 54, 67, 88; blue, 59, 69, 98, 102, 137; rosebreasted, 75 guayacan, 26 Gulf of Mexico, 128

hackberry: desert, 49; netleaf, 51 Haller, Karl, 167 Hannold, Curtis Lloyd, 59 Hannold, Nina Marie, 59, 60 Hannold Draw, 59-60, 179 Hannold Hills, 143 harrier, northern, 78, 137 Hart Ranch, 180 Hartz Expedition, 169 hawk: Cooper's, 62, 115, 178; ferruginous, 12; gray, 47, 178; Harris', 9293, 149, 153; red-tailed, 21, 30, 167; sharp-shinned, 43, 115, 131, 150, 168; Swainson's, 56, 115, 175; zone-tailed, 56,58,75 Hays, Wesley, 76 Headstrom, Richard: Bird's Nests of the West, 135 hedgehog, strawberry, 21, 32

Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. O. R., 95, 96 heron: great blue, 42, 133, 136; green, 47, 133, 137; tricolored, 78, in Hetrick, Wes, 74 Hill, Robert T., 129, 130 Horseshoe Falls, 130 Hotchkiss, Julie and Ty, xi, 65 Hot Spring Rapid, 130 Hot Springs, 8, 38-39, 46, 86, 145,

178, 179 Hot Springs Canyon, 8 Hot Springs Trail, 39 Howarth, Virginia, 161 Hubbs,Clark,xi,33,73 hummingbird: Allen's, 140; Anna's, 152-153, 170, 172; black-chinned, 48, 50, 69, 105, 133, 152; bluethroated, 51, 55, 61, 68, 81, 90, 92, 117; broad-billed, 115; broad-tailed, 47, 68, 79, 80, 90, 105, 114, 117, 152; calliope, 115; lucifer, 42, 56, 81, 90, 105, 114, 115, 152; magnificent, 61, 68, 80, 106; rufous, 31, 106, 115, 116, 123, 131, 140, 158, 170; white-eared, 116, 117 ibis, white-faced, 131, 133 Indian: campsite, 17, 157; quarry, 22, 159 insects: ants, 107; Big Bend quonker, 105; butterflies, 88, 119-120; cicada, 103 - 104; praying mantis, 165; short-horned grasshopper, 3; yucca moth, 39 - 40

jackrabbit, black-tailed, 152, 176 jaguar, 175 Jameson, John, xi javelina, 4, 5, n, 31, 37-38, 48, 86, 105,

I N D E X 201

io8-io9, 137, 154, 159-160, 161, 164, 165, 175, photo section javelinabush, 165, 167 jay: blue, 18; Mexican, 32, 67, 75, 115, 124; western scrub-, 75, 171, 172, 178 Jennings, Ken and Ralph, 128 Jensen, Bill, xi, 22-23, 36, 168 Jensen, Mur, 36 Jessen,Jay,xi,86,i70 Jessen, Ruth, xi, 86, 170, 171 Johnson, Jerry, xi, 103 Johnson Ranch, 53 Jones, Ted, 75 junco, dark-eyed, 1, 12, 23, 30, 171 juniper, red berry, 25, 30 Juniper Canyon, n, 12, 19, 93, 114, 118, 178, 180 Juniper Canyon Trail, 118, 140 Jumper Flat, 174 K-Bar, 157, 159 Kenney, Nathaniel T, 120 Kesterke, Al, 43 kestrel, American, 122, 133, 137, 144, 149 Kibby Spring, 76, 153 killdeer,39,42,i37,i70 kingbird: Cassin's, 137, 170; Couch's, 97; eastern 127, 133; thick-billed, 57, 81, 95-96, 170, 179; tropical, 179; western 47, 97 kingfisher: belted, 42, 133, 137, 149; green, 113 kinglet: golden-crowned, 12, 150, 170, 172; ruby-crowned, 5, 11, 42, 47, 5^, 78, 133, 137, 144, 149, 150, 167, 168, 170, 171 kite, swallow-tailed, 112-113 Kit Mountain, 167

Krausman, Paul, xi, 90, 98; and Ernest D. Abies, Ecology of the Carmen Mountains White-tailed Deer, 90 La Clocha, 53 Laguna Meadow, 17, 31, 41, 43, 50, 61, 74, 76, 77, 106, 134, 142, 147, 150, 153, 164, 171, 174 La Harmonia Company, 175 Lajitas, Texas, 5, 17 La Linda, Texas, 17, 36, 128, 143 Lane, Jim, xi, 74 Langtry, Texas, 148 La Noria, Texas, 164 Lasley, Greg and Cheryl, 66 Las Vegas de los Ladrones, 129 leatherstem, 8 lechuguilla, 8, 22, 81, 87, 90, 107, 160, 164, 173 Leckert, Jeanne and Mark, 170 LeSassier, Anne, 75 limoncillo, 26 living rock, 6, 8, 21, 22, 25, 26, 143 lizard: banded gecko, 102; greater earless, 93, 94; leopard, 93; little striped whiptail, 93; marbled whiptail, 38; Mediterranean gecko, 102103; rusty-rumped whiptail, 93, 94; side-blotched, 93; Texas alligator, 148-149; western whiptail,

93,94 Loftin Place, 164 long mamma (cactus), 21, 32, 143 longspur, chestnut-collared, 38, 56 Loop Camp, 53 Lost Mine Peak, 114 Lost Mine Trail, 113-114, 153, 158 Lower Canyons of the Rio Grande, 43, 128-130,142,180

202 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Lunas, 167 Lunn, Joe, 47 Maderas del Carmen, 50, 102, 135, 155 Madison, Virginia, 175 madrone, Texas, 170 maguey, 17 mallard, 167 maple, mountain, 153 Maple Canyon, 66 Marathon, Texas, 7, 161, 163 Maravillas Creek, 128 - 129 Mariscal Canyon, 8, 15, 18, 43 Mariscal Mine, 6, 46, 53, photo section Mariscal Mountain, 15, 22, 46, 49, 81 Marshall, Joe, 48 Maxwell, Ross: Big Bend Country, 141, 176; The Big Bend of the Rio Grande,

23, 169 McBride, Roy, xi, 132-133, 177 McGee, Bernice and Jack, xi, 145-146 McHenry, Bruce, xi, 115 McHenry, Dick, 43 Mclntosh, Bob, 43 McKinney, Brad, 66 McKinney Hills, 159, 164 McKinney Ranch, 164 McKinney Spring, 164 meadowlark, western, 149, 170, 172 Mealy, William, 135 Mesa de Anguila, 5, 141 mescal, 17 mesquite, honey, 165 Mexico International Boundary and Water Commission, 43 mice, 166 millipede, Big Bend, 118-119 mimosa, catclaw, 26 mining, 7

mockingbird, northern, 3, 50, 54, 59,

70, 86, 98, 102, 133, 144, 147, 150, 167, 170, 172 Mohave Desert, 147 MoriartyJ. L., 170, 171, 172 Mormon tea, 86 Morris, Bob, 43 Moser, Don Carlos, 8 mountain lion, 61, 90, 111, 112, 132133, 139 - 140, 167-168, 177, photo section mountainmahogany, 17, 50 Mouse Canyon, 29, 30 Mule Ears Overlook, 167 Mule Ears Spring, 165 Mulluhan, Cherly, 158 nama, Havard, 26 National Audubon Society, 56, 65 National Park Service, 17, 41, 43, 44,

154, 157 Nelson, Dick, xi, 75, 95, 96, 171 Neville Spring, 143, 144 New Mexico State University, 35 Nickles, Bernice and Charles, 145 nighthawk: common, 81; lesser, 55, 86 night-heron, yellow-crowned, 133 Nine Point Draw, 157, 161, 169 Nugent Mountain, 154 nuthatch: red-breasted, 12, 150; whitebreasted, 55, 115, 118, 150 oak: Chisos, 27; Coahuila scrub, 17; Emory, 65, 75, 90, 98; gray, 77, 98 Oak Creek Canyon, 10, 55, 90, 98, 105, 140, 162, 178 Oak Spring, 123, 161, 162 ocelot, 175 ocotillo,49,i73

I N D E X 203 Old Ore Road, 21, 25, 82, 163 Old Ranch (Sam Nail Ranch), 21, 50, 56,61,68-69,105,156 olive, desert, 49 Olson, Sigurd, 174 orchis, stream, 51 Ore Terminal Trail, 25 oriole: black-vented, 54, 60, 65-66, 76, 89, 98, 101, 102, 103, 134; Bullock's, 47, 48, 56, 59, 69, 133; hooded, 39, 47, 48, 60, 68, 102, 109, 115; orchard, 60, 68, 89, 98, 109,

Persimmon, Texas, 49 Persimmon Gap, 18, 26, 143, 180, photo section Peterson, Roger Tory: and Edward L. Chalif, A Field Guide to Mexican Birds, 134 pewee, greater, 88 Phelan, Dick, 43 phoebe: black, 39, 60, 133; eastern, 149; Say's, 2, 54, 68, 133, 147, 168 Piedras Negras, Mexico, 180 pigeon, band-tailed, 55, 67, 98, 115,

131; Scott's, 54, 88, 91, 124, 171 Ortega, Noberto, xi, 49, 171 osprey,56,i37 overgrazing, 174 owl: burrowing, 53; eastern screech-, 42, 80, 115, 166; elf, 36 -37, 55, 121; flammulated, 41-42, 75, 80, 88, 118; great horned, 38, 87; northern pygmy-, 115; northern saw-whet,

124, 162, 171 pincushion, pancake, 143 pine, Arizona, 176 Pine Canyon, 3, 4, 19, 54, 55, 57, 61, 67-68, 114, 120, 161, 174, 180 Pinky Carruther's Bone-watering Crossing, 128 Pinnacles, 50, 75, 141 Pinnacles Trail, 74, 147, 148, 171 pintail, northern, 133, 141, 170 pinyon, Mexican, 60 pipit: American, 149; Sprague's, 144, 154 pitaya: Big Bend, 39; Chisos, 21; slender-spined, 25, 143; Texas rainbow, 6, 8, 21, 22, 25, 143 poorwill, common, 80, 146-147, 170 porcupine, 131 Powell, A. Michael, xi; Trees & Shrubs of Trans-Pecos Texas, 107 Pratt, Lloyd, xi, 30, 89 predator control, 177 pricklypear, 90; blind, 6, 21, 22, 24;

23, 147 Padilla, Lorenzo, 43 Paint Gap Hills, 32, 87 Parmeter, Mike, xi, 74-75, 76 Panther Canyon, 130 Panther Club, 175 Panther Junction, i, 3, 26, 29, 32, 35, 60, 67, 85, 86, 95, 98, 109, 122, 123, 143, 145, 154, 171 Panther Pass, 113, 153 parula: northern, 47, 68, 77, 79, 133, 172; tropical, 66 Paterson, Paul, 76 Pawlick, Mike, 66 pecan, 50, 69 Peckham, Doyle and Helen, 74 Pena # i Spring, 161

brownspine, 8, 22, 25, 39, 143; Chisos, 10, 11, 24; Engelmann's, 10, 21, 22, 25, 26, 32, 87, 143; purpletinged, 6, 10, 21, 22, 25, 32, 39, 87, 143; spiny-fruit, 21

204 FOR ALL S E A S O N S pronghorn, 121 - 122, 177 Pulich, Warren and Warren, Jr., 76 Pulliam Peak, 78 Pulliam Ridge, 54, 66, 124 pyrrhuloxia, i, 3, 5, 59, 70, 86, 133, 144, 147, 150, 159, 166, 167, 168, 170 quail: "blue," 24; Montezuma, 3, 19, 57, 176; scaled, i, 21, 24, 25, 59, 86, 144, 168, 171, 172, 176 Quail Spring, 143, 144 Rabenstein, Bill, 178 raccoon, 175 rail, Virginia, 35 Raitt, Ralph, 35 ratany, range, 26 rattlesnake: black-tailed, 32, 142-143, photo section; Mohave, 143; mottled rock, 136, 143; prairie, 143; western diamondback, 32, 143 raven: Chihuahuan, 73-74; common, 5, 12, 48, 67, 73-74, 147, 167, 168 Reagan brothers, 129 Redman, Les, 128 redstart, 77; American, 78, 79, 125, 133, 137, 149; painted, 50, 118 Rice, Mr. and Mrs. John, 161 Rinehart,G. H.,i72 ringtail, 153 Rio Grande, 8, 15, 16, 18, 24, 26, 31, 32, 34, 43, 48, 57, 59, 102, 113, 136, 149,

150 Rio Grande Village, 8, 18, 20, 25, 33, 35, 36, 42, 47, 48, 52, 55, 56, 57, 60, 62, 65, 66, 68, 73, 74, 78, 82, 89, 94, 97, 98, 99, 101, 102, 103, 106, 107, 110, 111, 113, 120, 122, 125, 127, 130,

131, 133, 134, 141, 142, 144, 147, 149,

150, 154, 165, 166, 170, 178, 179, 180, photo section Rio Grande Village Nature Trail, 112 Rio Grande Wild and Scenic River, 44 Riskind, David, xi, xii, 43, 57, 94, 128 River Road, 17, 18, 24, 53, 81, 107 roadrunner, greater, 2, 20 - 21, 35-36, 87-88,94,127,128,144,165 Robber's Roost, 2, 3 robin: American, 123, 147; rufousbacked, 147-148 Robinson, Carl, xii Rock Slide Rapids, 130 Rock Spring, 154 Romero, Aline and Forest, 60 Rooney, Francis, 161 Rooney, Walter R., 18, 98, 162 Rooney Ranch, 162 Rooneys Place, 53 Rosillo Mountains, 158 Rosillos Ranch, 18 Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive, 21, 39, 52, 156, 167 Rough Spring, 161 Rowlett, Rose Ann, xii, 80 Royal Ontario Museum, 78 Rylander, Kent, xii, 75, 151-153 sage, mountain, 114, 117, 158 Salmi, Bill, 128 saltbush, four-winged, 94 salt cedar, 142, 147, 165 Sanchez, Pete, xii, 140-141 sandpiper: Baird's, 137; least, 133; spotted, 39, 47, 56, 78, 79, in, 122,

123, 127, 133, 137 San Francisco Creek, 130 San Jacinto B Spring, 161 Santa Elena Canyon, 5, 6, 7, 18, 19, 33,

I N D E X 205

37, 58, 104, 130, 136, 142, 149, 152, 155, 156, 171, 172, 175 Santa Elena Canyon Trail, 104 Santiago Peak, 181 San Vicente, 53, 81 San Vicente Crossing, 53 sapsucker: Williamson's, 171; yellowbellied, 11, 23 Schmidly, David: The Mammals of Trans-Pecos Texas, 95, 125, 152, 156 Schmitt, Harrison, 38 Schupbach, Parge, 130 Schupbach Trail, 130 scorpions, 124 screwworm, 177 Scudday, Jim, xii, 171 Sedberry, Tom, 128 seepwillow, 142, 165, 168 senna, 26 Shields, Mike, xii, 168 shoveler, northern, 39, 47 shrew, desert, 152 shrike, loggerhead, 55, 144, 149, 166,

snail: agave, 89; distorted metastoma, 30-31; Polygyra,3O-, Stockton Plateau three-band, 31 snake: Baird's rat, 42; bullsnake, 32, 41; regal ringneck, 115-116; Texas glossy, 32, 33; Texas long-nosed, 32; thimble, 116 snipe, common, 42, 137, 147 Soil Conservation Service, 177 Solis,i5,i6,22,53,8i solitaire, Townsend's, 12, 172 sora, 78, 127, 133, 137 sotol, 17, 86

167 Sierra Blanca, Texas, 164 Sierra del Carmens, 7, 12, 18, 95, 141, 155, 158, 161, 166, 178, 181, photo section Sierranias del Burro, 158 Sierra Quemada, photo section Siglin, Roger, xii, 9, 39, 113, 149 - 150,

127, 131, 133, 134, 137, 144, 149, 150, 167, 170, 171; clay-colored, 3, 33, 42,

163, 168, 170, 171, 172 silktassel, eggleaf, 17 Sims, Bob, 43 siskin, pine, 12, 59, 68, 78, 115, 171

Skiles, Ray, xi Smith, Bob, 104 Smith, John, 43 Smithsonian Institution, 19-20, 42

South Rim, 12, 13, 74, 77, 80, 88, 93, 95, 116, 139, 141, 174, photo section South Rim Trail, 180 sparrow, 77; Baird's, 172; black-chinned, 3, 10, 50, 54, 106, 114, 178; blackthroated, 5, 33, 59, 86, 134, 144, 159, 166, 167, 168, 171; Brewer's, 22, 33, 42, 69, 137, 144, 166, 171; Cassin's, 22, 33, 55, 109, 144, 171; chipping, 3, 33, 42, 50, 56, 59, 69, 78, 115, 122,

47, 59, 69, 134, 137, 144, 149, 166, 171, 172; field, 33, 134, 144, 171; fox, 19; golden-crowned, 166, 172; grasshopper, 33, 42, 144, 166; house, 171; lark, 56, 78, 127, 133, 137, 144; Lincoln's, 42, 56, 68, 69, 133, 134, 144, 149, 166; rufous-crowned, 10, 12,30, 54, 91, 114, 171; sage, 4; savannah, 33, 47, 78, 137; song, 149; swamp, 33, 47, 68, 69, 149, 166, 170; vesper, 33, 42, 47, 56, 144, 166, 171; whitecrowned, i, 3, 22, 33, 42, 50, 56, 79, 133, 159, 166, 171; white-throated, 33,35

206 FOR ALL S E A S O N S Sparrow, Rollie, 34 spiders, 20 spring survey, 47, 48, 144, 160 - 161, 165-166 Sprunt, Alexander, Jr., 99 squirrel: Mexican ground, 166; rock, 92; Texas antelope, 91 Stanfield, James (Jim), xii, 120 Star, Elvis, 56 starling, European, 167, 170 Stewart, Arthur, 128 storms, 3, 35, 96 - 97, 114 - 115, 118, 127, 169-170 Strickling, Jerry and Nancy, xii, 80

tasajillo, 6, 21, 22, 25, 32, 87, 143 - 144 teal: blue-winged, 39, 47, 82, 127, 133, 136, 141; cinnamon, 39, 42, 47, 137, 141; green-winged, 47, 127, 133, 136, 141, 164, 172 Terlingua, Texas, 6 Terlingua Abaja, 6 Terlingua Creek, 5, 6, 7 Terlingua Mines, 6 Terrill, Scott: The Audubon Society Master Guide to Birding, 109 Terry, Joe, 171 Texas Bird Records Committee: Checklist of the Birds of Texas, 52, 135,

Strong, P. I. V., 142 Study Butte Quicksilver Mine, 162 Sue Peaks, 30 Sul Ross State University, 49, 132, 171 sumac: desert, 98; evergreen, 17, 98; fragrant, 12 Sutton, George M., 176, 178; Mexican Birds— First Impressions, 61, 134 swallow: barn, 47, 56, 59, 127; cave, 81-82; cliff, 45, 47, 81-82, 137; northern rough-winged, 170; tree, 127; violet-green, 47, 96, 97-98 swift, white-throated, 12, 13, 30, 68 sycamore, 89 Sypulski, John, 128

148, 153 Texas General Land Office, 43 Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, 43,57,128 Texas pride, 24 Thoreau, Henry David, 174 thrasher: brown, 42, 56, 150; crissal, 5,

Talley,i5,53 Talley Mountain, 49

Tornillo Creek, 18,33,34, 53, H4-H5, 145, 151, 156, 158, 159

tallow, Chinese, 69 tanager, 77; summer, 48, 55, 68, 69, 98,

Tornillo Flat, 23, 93, 121, 122, 123, 164, 177

102, 125, 131; western, 78, 122, 123,

towhee: canyon, i, 5, 10, 30, 54, 91, 114,

125, 127, 131, 133, 137 tarantula, 122 -123 tarantula hawk, 122-123 tarbush, 87

11, 50, 55, 56, 75, 79, 105, 106, 127, 133, 144; curve-billed, i, 3, 22; sage, 144, 154, 159

thrush, hermit, 22, 42, 69 Thuma, Ron, 43 titmouse, tufted, 11-12, 23, 68, 116 toad, red-spotted, 38 tobacco, tree, 31, 140, 147, 152 ToddHill,86 Toll Mountain, 12, 75, 141

135, 144, 159; green-tailed, i, 22, 42, 47, 59, 69, 78, 144, 149, 159, 172; spotted, 5, 12, 30, 43, 54, 70, 167, 168, 171

I N D E X 207 Trap Spring, 161, 165-166 treefrog, canyon, 40 Trevino, Herb, 166 Tucker, Jim, xii, 76, 171, 172 Tuff Canyon, 38 Tule Spring, 161 turkey, wild, 176 Turk's head, 6, 21, 22, 25, 143 turtles, 25, 26 Tveten, Gloria and John, xii, 171, 172

vireo: Bell's, 47, 48, 50, 59, 69, 105, 125, 133; black-capped, 78-79, 83, 121, 179; gray, 2, 3, 74, 83, 89, 121, 167, 171, 172; Hutton's, 50, 55, 118; Philadelphia, 69, 149; red-eyed, 78; solitary, 47, 78, 115; warbling, 78, 81, 115, 118, 123; white-eyed, 69 visibility, 180 vulture: black, 113; turkey, 47, 48, 50, 104, 113, 144

Underhill, Jim, 43 University of Idaho, 90 University of Michigan, 159 University of Nevada at Las Vegas, 30 University of New Mexico, 93 University of Oklahoma, 36 University of Texas at Austin, 33, 73 Upper Madison Rapids, 130 U.S. Army, 46, 51-52 U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, 86, 104, 128, 132 U.S. Forest Service, 43 U.S. Geological Survey, 30 U.S. International Boundary and Water Commission, 6, 43, 128 Uzzell, Donald and Reba, 145

warbler: black-and-white, 42, 66, 131, 137; Blackburnian, 74; blackpoll, 69; black-throated blue, 76; blackthroated gray, 42, 115, 116, 131; Canada, 69; Colima, 49-5°, 55, 65,

Valezuela, Vic, xii, 3 Vandertulip, John, 43 Van Pelt, Arnold, xi, xii, 107, 115 Van Pelt, Steve, xii, 115 Van Tyne, Josselyn, 176, 178 Venezuelan equine encephalitis (VEE), 166 verbena, desert, 26 verdin, 5, 50, 56, 59, 70, 86, 144, 159, 166,168 Vernon Bailey Peak, 141 vervain, 26

68, 70, 74, 75, 76, 77, 88, 93, 95, 108, 114, 115, 131, 173; Grace's, 115; hermit, 115; hooded, 61, 66; Lucy's, 48, 57-58, 179; magnolia, 150; MacGillivray's, 59, 66, 68, 69, 78, 79, 81, 82; mourning, 55, 77; Nashville, 47, 50, 56, 68, 69, 133, 137, 149; olive, 134-135; orangecrowned, 5, 12, 42, 47, 56, 125, 131, 137, 140, 149; prothonotary, 60 ; rufous-capped, 79, 80; Townsend's, 12, 59, 66, 69, 115, 116, 122, 123, 127, 131, 133, 140, 149, 150; Virginia's, 66, 133; Wilson's, 47, 50, 59, 68, 69, 78, 79, 81, 115, 117, 122, 125, 127, 131, 133, !37, 140; worm-eating, 70, 79; yellow, 56, 66, 68, 76, 79, no, 127, 133, 176, 179; yellow-rumped, 12, 42, 47, 50, 56, 59, 66, 68, 78, 81, 131, 133, 137, 140, 144, 149, 150, 168, 170 Ward Mountain, 9 Ward Spring, 39, 161 Warnock, Barton, xii, 49 Wasp Spring, 161

208 FOR ALL S E A S O N S waterthrush: Louisiana, 41; northern, 68, 78, 122 Watson, H. Lee, 172 Wauer, Betty, xi Wauer, Brent, xii, 37 Wauer, Jennifer, 37 Wauer, Roland H.: Auk article, 65, 102; A Field Guide to Birds of the Big Bend, 4, 60, 68, 102; Guide to the Backcountry Roads and the River, 6, 39, 53, 82; Hiker's Guide to the Developed Trails and Primitive Routes, 159, 168-169; Naturalist's Big Bend, 26; Southwestern Naturalist article, 96 Wauer, Sharon, 15, 36, 170, 171 Wauer Spring, 161 waxwing, cedar, 42, 50, 56, 78, 79, 82 Weber, Jim and Lynne, xii Welder Wildlife Foundation, 132 Wells, Phillip ¥.,158 WeU Spring, 161 West Rim, 141 whip-poor-will, 80, 94-95, n^, 120, 146

white brush, 12 Whitson, Martha, xii, 35-36 Whitson, Paul, xii; The Impact of Human Use upon the Chisos Basin and Adjacent Lands, 123 - 124 wigeon, American, 141 Williams, Burr, 171 Williams, Frances, 75, 171 Williams, Harold, 171 Williams, Ray, 175 willow, Goodding, 50, 69

Willow Tank, 163,164 Wilson, Homer, 21, 161, 175 Wilson, Marion and Russ, xii, 149 Wilson Ranch, 46, 48 Window, The, 35, 98, 114, 161 Window Trail, 10, 12, 34, 98, 107, 124, 140, 156, 180 Window View Trail, 37, 96, 105 Wolf, David, 76, 80 wolves, 175, 177 woodpecker: acorn, 23, 67, 115, 116, 118, 124; golden-fronted, 153, 154; ladder-backed, 69-70, 91, 102, 159, 168; Lewis', 147 wood-pewee: eastern, 78; western, 79, 81, 82, 115, 118, 122, 127, 131, 133, 137 wood rat, 157-158 Wormington, Alan, 66 wren: Bewick's, 30, 54, 91, 159; cactus, 1, 54, 86, 91, 144, 167, 168; canyon, 5, 23, 68, 114; Carolina, 178; house, 12, 131, 137, 149; marsh, 47, 170; rock, 5, 54, 106, 144, 147, 159, 167, 168

Wright Mountain, 29 Yarborough, Keith, xi yellowlegs, lesser, 133 yellowthroat, common, 42, 66, 68, 125, 131

Youse, Dick, 170 yucca: giant dagger, 39-40, photo section; soaptree, 49; Torrey, 7, 49, 90,122-123 Zion National Park, 113