216 BIRDS OF THE ROCKIES 



an Audubon's warbler, while below me the hermit 

 thrushes were chanting a sacred oratorio in the pine 

 woods. 



On another day the train bore us around the famous 

 " Loop " to Silver Plume. In the beautiful pine grove 

 at the terminus of the railway there were many birds 

 — siskins, chipping sparrows, western robins and ruby- 

 crowned kinglets ; and they were making the place 

 vocal with melodv, until I began to inspect them with 

 my glass, when they suddenly lapsed into a silence that 

 was as trving as it was profound. By and bv, discretion 

 having had her perfect work, they metaphorically came 

 out of their shells and permitted an inspection. Above 

 the railway I saw one of the few birds of my entire 

 Rocky Mountain outing that I was unable to identify. 

 That little feathered Sphinx — ■ what could he have 

 been ? To quote from my note-book, " His song, as 

 he sits quietly on a twig in a pine tree, is a rich gur- 

 gling trill, slightly like that of a house-wren, but fuller 

 and more melodious, with an air about it that makes 

 me feel almost like writing a poem. The bird is in 

 plain view before me, and I may watch him either with 

 or Avithout my glass ; he has a short, conical bill ; 

 his upper parts are gray or olive-gray ; cervical patch 

 of a greenish tinge ; under parts whitish, spotted with 

 dusk or brown. The bill is white or horn-color, and is 

 quite heavy, I should say heavier than that of any spar- 



