:::::::::=)i;y ALONG THE STREAM OF DEATH m: 



creaky and harsh in tone, and suddenly these seemed 

 to melt and run together into a volume of marvellous 

 sweetness. The plaintiveness of the pewee, the tinkle 

 and gurgle of the bobolink, the rich liquidness of the 

 wood thrush ; all these characterized it, but it dif- 

 fered from all, excelling the songs of all other birds in 

 depth of feeling and sweetness. It was the mystery 

 and beauty of these trojiical ravines embodied in song. 

 Such was the song of the Solitaire, one of the marvels 

 of Mexico, for which we had hoped. It came and died 

 away before we realized what we had heard. Breath- 

 less, we strained our ears and soon the first low creak- 

 ing notes separated themselves from the tinkling of 

 the falling water, and again they merged into the 

 grand ensemble of musical tones. Solitaire he seemed 

 in reality as well as in name, but soon, from the next 

 turn in the arroyo, came an echoing sweetness and at 

 last, fainter, as from a great distance, a third took up 

 the incomparable theme. 



It was a song impossible to describe — a gradually 

 ascending strain of interlacing, silvery notes, the tink- 

 ling melody rising, as rises the sound of a crystal 

 vessel filling with water. We lay on our backs and 

 searched the shadows overhead, but to no purpose. 

 Suddenly the melody broke out straight above us and 

 there, in a tangle of lianas, perched the Solitaire. His 

 head and body were firm and steady and only a tremb- 

 ling of the throat revealed the source of the song. In 



<^ 245 #* 



