Hunting in the Selkirks 161 



the water, and was singing sweetly from a spray- 

 splashed log. Suddenly a small animal swam across 

 the little pool at my feet. It was less in size than a 

 mouse, and as it paddled rapidly underneath the 

 water its body seemed flattened like a disk and was 

 spangled with tiny bubbles, like specks of silver. It 

 was a water-shrew, a rare little beast. I sat motion 

 less and watched both the shrew and the water-wren 

 water-ousel, as it should rightly be named. The 

 latter, emboldened by my quiet, presently flew by me 

 to a little rapids close at hand, lighting on a round 

 stone, and then slipping unconcernedly into the swift 

 water. Anon he emerged, stood on another stone, 

 and trilled a few bars, though it was late in the 

 season for singing, and then dived again into the 

 stream. 



I gazed at him eagerly; for this strange, pretty 

 water-thrush is to me one of the most attractive and 

 interesting birds to be found in the gorges of the 

 great Rockies. Its haunts are romantically beauti 

 ful, for it always dwells beside and in the swift-flow 

 ing mountain brooks ; it has a singularly sweet song ; 

 and its ways render it a marked bird at once, for, 

 though looking much like a sober-colored, ordinary 

 woodland thrush, it spends half its time under the 

 water, walking along the bottom, swimming and 

 diving, and flitting through as well as over the 

 cataracts. 



In a minute or two the shrew caught my eye 



