Summer Birds of the Redwoods, 



over, the open mountain side into the 

 nearest covert. A gray squirrel whisks 

 his beautiful, long tail at us as we pass, 

 and barks as if he had a bone in his 

 throat. Far and near the birds are 

 busy in the happy toil of rearing a 

 family; and many of their human 

 cousins could learn a lesson from their 

 devotion and discipline. 



Let us roam the winding trails to- 

 gether with great caution, for a careless 

 step or the snapping of a twig will make 

 a solitude where an instant before was a 

 medley of animated life. One of the 

 first notes to attract our attention in 

 these vast forest halls is the high, 

 nervous chattering of a band of chicka- 

 dees, and we find no difficulty in gaining 

 a very close view of the restless little 

 birds, clinging head downward to the 

 redwood sprays more than half the 

 time, alert and animated, continually 

 uttering their song, and acting as if the 

 whole forest were theirs. Their note 

 may be best described as a fine, tittering 

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