JUNE IN FRAN CON I A. 29 



warble fell upon our ears. U A pine gros- 

 beak ! " said I, in a tone of full assurance, 

 although this was my first hearing of the 

 song. The younger man plunged into the 

 forest, in the direction of the voice, while I, 

 knowing pretty well how the land lay, has- 

 tened on toward the lakes, in hopes to find 

 the singer visible from that point. Just as 

 I ran down the little incline into the open, 

 a bird flew past me across the water, and 

 alighted in a dead spruce (it might have 

 been the very tree of nine days before), 

 where it sat in full sight, and at once broke 

 into song, "like the purple finch's," says 

 my notebook; "less fluent, but, as it seemed 

 to me, sweeter and more expressive. I think 

 it was not louder." Before many minutes, 

 my comrade came running down the path in 

 high glee, calling, "Pine grosbeaks!" He 

 had got directly under a tree in which two 

 of them were sitting. So the momentous 

 question was settled, and I commenced feel- 

 ing once more a degree of confidence in my 

 own eyesight. The loss of such confidence 

 is a serious discomfort; but, strange as it 

 may seem to people in general, I suspect 

 that few field ornithologists, except begin- 



