VOL. II. ] Andrew Fackson Grayson. 65 
One who is accustomed to the woods, and has spent the most of 
his existence amid its wild life, especially if he be an observer of 
nature, becomes familiarized with the varied notes of birds. Their 
expressions of alarm, their call or love note, and many other pecu- 
liarities are understood almost as well as his own language. He 
easily recognizes each bird (though he may not see it) by its voice 
alone, and quickly detects a strange note of some one unknown to 
him. While I was collecting specimens at a little hamlet of Indian 
4 huts on the Mazatlan River, surrounded by a heavy forest, inter- 
spersed with clearings which were overgrown with brambles, I first 
met with this beautiful species. I was traveling slowly along a 
narrow path flanked on either side with impenetrable brakes of 
thorny brush, canopied with innumerable creepers that barred all 
possibility of penetrating its depth with my eyes. It was in the 
latter part of June, the morning was fresh, and the leaves were 
dripping from the copious shower that had fallen during the night. 
This was the first rain of the season, and the feathered creation 
seemed to have been awakened to an unusual degree of animation. 
Amid the numerous voices of song, and the chattering and scream- 
‘ing of parrots, one full and melodious note was caught by my ear, 
which I at once felt to be that of a stranger. Although it had some 
resemblance to that of the blue mocking-bird, whose imitations ot 
other birds had frequently deceived me, yet with a close attention 
I was convinced that it was an unknown species tome. With a 
great deal of scratching and pricking by the thorns, I at last suc- 
ceeded in reaching near the spot where I thought it was; but 
its song had ceased. I, however, sat down upon the ground, com- 
pletely canopied by the mass of convolvulus and other creepers 
_ that overspread the thorny bushes, beneath which a tolerably clear 
view along the leaf-covered ground could be had for forty or fifty 
yards. After remaining seated for about ten minutes I perceived a 
bird quite near me upon the ground, busily turning up the damp 
leaves with its bill, looking steadfastly for a moment at the turning 
up of each leaf to discover the insects it was in search of, in the 
manner of some wood thrushes. I at length shot it, and it proved 
to be the female of the very bird I was looking for. It was new to 
- me, and I felt pleased with my morning’s work. The following 
_ day I returned to the same spot, and was soon gratified by hearing 
the rich melodies of the male, as well as getting a sight of it. By 
