212 BIRDS OF THE ROCKIES 



snare-drumming which always sets the poet to dreaming 

 of sylvan solitudes. What was the bird ? The red- 

 naped sapsucker, a beautifully habited Chesterfield in 

 plumes. He presently ambled up the steep mountain 

 side, and buried himself in the pine forest, and I saw 

 him no more, and none of his kith. 



When I climbed up over a tangle of rocks to a woodsy 

 ravine far above the lake, it seemed at first as if there 

 were no birds in the place, that it was given up entirely 

 to solitude; but the winged creatures were only shy 

 and cautious for the nonce, waiting to learn something 

 about the errand and disposition of their uninvited, or, 

 rather, self-invited, guest, before they ventured to give 

 him a greeting. Presently they discovered that he was 

 not a collector, hunter, nest-robber, or ogre of any other 

 kind, and there was the swish of wings around me, and 

 a medley of chirps and songs filled the sequestered spot. 

 Away up here the gray-headed j uncos were trilling like 

 warblers, and hopping about on their pine-needle carpet, 

 creeping in and out among the rocks, hunting for tid- 

 bits. Here also was the mountain chickadee, found at 

 this season in the heights hard by the alpine zone, 

 singing his dulcet minor strain, " Te-te-re-e-e, te-eet," 

 sometimes adding another " te-eet " by way of special 

 emphasis and adornment. Oh, the sweet little piper 

 piping only for Pan ! The loneliness of the place was 

 accentuated by the sad cadenzas of the mountain hermit 



