THE MINER’S CRADLE. 61 
For hours I have sat and watched the busy pair, 
passing in and out through the fall, with as much 
apparent ease as an equestrian performer jumps 
through a hoop covered with tissue-paper. The 
nest was ingeniously constructed, to prevent the 
spray from wetting the interior, the moss being 
so worked over the entrance as to form an ad- 
mirable verandah. 
Mr. George Gibbs (‘ Natural History, Washing- 
ton Territory,’) speaks of two he noticed whilst 
gold-washing on the Salmon river: ‘ As I sat at 
my cradle on the bank, a pair of dippers, which I 
suppose had their nest hard by, or perhaps, as it 
was July or August, had already hatched their 
brood, used to play in the water near me, some- 
times alighting at the head of a rapid, allowing 
themselves to be swept under, and then rising 
below. They dive with great celerity, and at 
times beat the water with their wings, throwing 
the spray over themselves. Their whistle was 
sweet and rather sad, but they seemed very 
happy and busy fellows notwithstanding, and in 
nowise afraid of the harsh rattle of the “ miner’s 
cradle.””’ 
