SCENERY .OF THE SIS-KY-OUE MOUNTAINS. 275 
coloured cinnamon teal, the noisy bald-pate, and a 
host of others, are either floating on the water or 
circling round in pairs, quacking angry remon- 
strances at such an unjustifiable prying into their 
nuptial haunts. Overhead, vieing with the swal- 
lows in rapidity and grace of flight, countless 
Terns (Sterna Foster’) whirl in mazy circles: their 
black heads, grey and white liveries, and orange- 
yellow beaks, show to great advantage against the 
sombre green of the swallows, amid which they 
wing their way. Behind me, and far to the 
right, the Sis-ky-oue Mountains, in many a rugged 
peak, bound the sky-line, their slopes descending 
in an unbroken surface of pine-trees to the grassy 
flats at their base. To my left, the river that feeds 
this rushy lake winds through the green expanse, 
like a line of twisted silver, far as the eye can scan 
its course; along its bank my string of mules, 
in dingy file, pace slowly on: the tinkle of the 
bell-horse, but faintly audible, bids me hasten 
after them, and leave a scene the like of which 
I shall never perhaps gaze on again. I did not 
see any nests of the Tern, although I have but 
little doubt they breed about these lakes. 
Follow the stream and pass a second kind of 
rushy lake, not nearly so large as the one behind, 
and reach the southern end of the great Klamath 
Ez 
