AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY i77 



It belongs, systematically, to the perching birds, or passers, having the 

 true and characteristic perching foot, and judging from its appearance and 

 structure, one would imagine that like all similar birds its habitat would be 

 in leafy groves and bosky glens, or on the upland pastures. But this rara 

 avis is, indeed, an anomaly in ornithology, for it was never known to alight 

 on a tree, but prefers a rock or piece of drift-wood beside the babbling 

 stream. And while it is quite swift on the wing, darting like an arrow up 

 or down the stream, it never flies overland, but always follows the stream 

 in its devious windings, where it is a familiar object to the observant 

 angler. 



It wades along in shallow water like a snipe or plover, though its legs 

 are short. It swims on the surface like a duck, though it is not web-footed. 

 It dives like a grebe or loon, and swims, or rather flies, under water for 

 long distances, using its wings alone, its legs stretching out behind. It 

 walks on the bottom of a stream or pond like a submarine diver in his 

 armor. 



It is of a uniform, ashy hue, or mouse color. Its bill is short, like all 

 passerine birds, and its short tail is carried vertically. It is a very rest- 

 less bird, nearly always in motion, and has a comical and characteristic 

 habit of bobbing up and down, when standing on a rock, somewhat like 

 the teeter-tail or tip-up sandpiper. 



It feeds on insects and their larvae, and other small organisms that find 

 a home in the water. It emits a short, sharp note when startled, or on the 

 wing, somewhat like the modified "scaipe" of the snipe. 



I cannot but think that the cry and the genuflections just mentioned are 

 in imitation of the snipe or plover, for the purpose of deceiving its prey. 

 For as the waders can only go to the depth that their legs can carry them, 

 in seeking their food, insects and worms in deeper water have no fear of 

 them. But the ousel, bobbing on the brink, while pretending to be a wad- 

 ing plover, and seeing its prey in deeper water, suddenly plunges in, or 

 walking along the bottom of the stream secures the unsuspecting creatures 

 — the victims of misplaced confidence. 



The water ouzel, as one might suspect from its resemblance in structure 

 to the thrushes, is the finest and sweetest singer among all the feathered 

 songsters of the Rocky Mountain region. Its song is not unlike that of the 

 canary, but far more sweet and tender. Standing on a rock beside a 

 waterfall, its throat swelling with pride, it pours forth a sonata of exquisite 

 tenderness and feeling, with liquid trills and joyous cadences, while the 

 deep monotone of the waterfall hums a fitting accompaniment. 



It builds its nest in a cleft of rock or other sheltered nook beside the 

 stream, sometimes on the very edge of a waterfall, or even behind it. It 

 is constructed of dried moss and leaves, and the opening is rather on the 



