AN APRIL HIKE 35 



Through every hour of the night a little of 

 that story was told. The continuous yells of the 

 geese, as a dozen encampments shouted to each 

 other through the darkness, was a mighty or- 

 chestra, strange, barbaric, almost unearthy. 

 The waveys' treble shriek never ceased for a mo- 

 ment, through the hours; the Canadas honked 

 deep an all's-well sentry call at intervals; and 

 the laughers at times teeheed mirthfully. The 

 pinnated grouse out on the flat, that had 

 hummed softly till long after dark, finally became 

 hushed; the moon rose at ten and slowly 

 mounted to the southward; several times from 

 the upper air there drifted down the call notes 

 of migrants hurrying northward through the 

 moonlight — a Lapland longspur's voice, also that 

 of a tree sparrow, being distinctly recognized — 

 the sharp whiffle of a duck-wing often came from 

 overhead; and a coyote's call and a horned owl's 

 hoot livened the silence of the sand-hills. Thus 

 passed the night; then the love-mad grouse took 

 up his song, and dawn was near. 



The morning awakening of the birds is a 

 wonderful and interesting thing — provided one 

 can get out early enough to be present ; and here 

 this difficulty was solved for me. The grouse be- 



