144 WAKE-EOBIN 



same time, and are clearly distinguished by their 

 timid yeaps. On dark, cloudy nights the birds 

 seem confused by the lights of the city, and appar- 

 ently wander about above it. 



In the spring the same curious incident is re- 

 peated, though but few voices can be identified. I 

 make out the snowbird, the bobolink, the war- 

 blers, and on two nights during the early part of 

 May I heard very clearly the call of the sandpipers. 



Instead of the bobolink, one encounters here, in 

 the June meadows, the black-throated bunting, a 

 bird closely related to the sparrows and a very 

 persistent if not a very musical songster. He 

 perches upon the fences and upon the trees by the 

 roadside, and, spreading his tail, gives forth his 

 harsh strain, which may be roughly worded thus: 

 fscp fscp^ fee fee fee. Like all sounds associated 

 with early summer, it soon has a charm to the ear 

 quite independent of its intrinsic merits. 



Outside of the city limits, the great point of 

 interest to the rambler and lover of nature is the 

 Kock Creek region. Rock Creek is a large, rough, 

 rapid stream, which has its source in the interior 

 of Maryland, and flows into the Potomac between 

 Washington and Georgetown. Its course, for five 

 or six miles out of Washington, is marked by great 

 diversity of scenery. Flowing in a deep valley, 

 which now and then becomes a wild gorge with 

 overhanging rocks and high precipitous headlands, 

 for the most part wooded; here reposing in long, 

 dark reaches, there sweeping and hurrying around 



