48 Dr. E. Coues — Field Notes on Lophortyx gambeli. 



hardly composed of the same elements. Instead of the gorgeous 

 tints of maples^ beeches, and hickories, the deep, never-changing 

 sombre gTcen of the pines and cedars meets the eye. No cold, 

 bracing air is felt : all the rich, luxuriant warmth of Sep- 

 tember is still unaltered ; but an indescribable something there 

 is about it, so pure, fresh, and invigorating, that the thrilling of 

 the nerves it causes is almost intoxicating. But deep draughts 

 of the living oxygen we must take, and dilate the chest to the 

 utmost ; for we are seven or eight thousand feet above sea-level, 

 and the dry thin air hardly satisfies lungs accustomed to a heavier, 

 more humid atmosphere. In all there is a strange admixture of 

 new and wonderful with old and familiar things. Along the 

 banks of some clear creek we may fancy ourselves still in New 

 England; for a heavy fringe of cotton-wood, willow, and walnut 

 clothes its banks, and their leaves are of the purest golden. 

 The showy Solidago, with its brightest of chrome flowers, meets 

 us on every hand ; and as we recognize the old friend, side by 

 side with it we notice the crimson-red pulpy fruit of the prickly 

 pear* — a strange neighbour. And in the tangled patches of 

 Smilax, in the graceful festoons of wild grapes, and clusters of 

 rose-bushes we recognize still other familiar things, which, 

 however, seem rather to heighten by contrast, than to lessen, 

 the feeling of loneliness and home-sickness that so many new 

 and strange things conspire to produce. The little ground- 

 squirrel [Tamias dorsalis), scampering among yonder rocks, is 

 not our familiar little " chip-muck, ^^ but a shy, retiring species 

 that never leaves his favourite boulders. That little brown bird 

 that is sitting on yonder dead limb is surely a Pewee {Contopus, 

 sp. nov.), but how different is his cry, as he darts after a passing 

 insect, from the sad, soft, " pee-a-wee " that fills our eastern 

 woods. The harsh scream of the Jay [Cyanurus macrolophus) 

 in that tall pine certainly sounds familiar ; but as we catch a 

 glimpse of him through the thick foliage, lo ! he is almost 

 black instead of olive, and his crest is so long that it seems ready 

 to topple over. Wander on, and muse on, and let space- 



* Any one of the numerous species of Opuntia, which, with many 

 kinds of Cereus and other genera of Cactace<e, form a very prominent 

 and characteristic feature of the Ai'izonian flora. 



