222 KEELER 



for a stroll with Professor Ritter, and we fancied ourselves 

 treading again the well-loved coast ranges of California. 

 The hills rise in a very steep slope, but they are covered 

 with a heavy turf, affording firm and easy footing. The 

 entire mountain side was a garden of beautiful flowers. 

 Fleur-de-lis lifted their stately purple heads, and the blue 

 polemonium was scattered near and far. A deep pink- 

 purple orchid, with clusters of flowers on a stalk, grew 

 here and there, and white windflowers crowded the 

 slopes. Then there were lady's slippers, violets, forget- 

 me-nots and fritellarias making in all the most exquisite 

 pageant of wild flowers we had ever seen. 



In the midst of this flower garden were many birds in 

 song the large dark Kadiak song sparrow, the savanna 

 sparrow, summer warbler, pileolated warbler, dwarf 

 thrush, and, most abundant of all, the golden-crowned 

 sparrow, singing the same plaintive song that we hear in 

 the valleys of California throughout the winter. It was a 

 perfect medley of sweet tones ringing over the mountains 

 far and wide a chorus of tender minstrelsy in a setting 

 of innumerable flowers. A tangle of dwarf alders beside 

 a stream that trickled down the mountain side was the 

 rendezvous of the birds, and here we watched their merry- 

 making. Below us were the town beside the narrow inlet, 

 islands, bays, and mountains with green slopes, dark 

 masses of forest, and in the distance, ridges topped with 

 snow. 



One morning I started off alone for a walk in the woods 

 to enjoy the birds and flowers, taking the road that led 

 into the spruce forest and wandering on until I found a 

 grove of beautiful moss-covered old trees. It was Sun- 

 day, and in the distance the bells of the Russian church 

 were clanging and jingling big bells and little ones all 

 ringing at once. I was in an open park-like glade, with 

 small spruce trees all about, and glimpses of verdant hill- 



