SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 189 



the early part of May, I heard very clearly 

 the call of the sandpipers. 



Instead of the bobolink, one encounters 

 here, in the June meadows, the black-throated 

 bunting, a bird closely related to the spar- 

 rows, and a very persistent, if not a very 

 musical, songster. He perches upon the 

 fences and upon the trees by the roadside, 

 and, spreading his tail, gives forth his harsh 

 strain, which may be roughly worded thus : 

 fscp fscp, fee fee fee. Like all sounds as- 

 sociated with early summer, it soon has a 

 charm to the ear quite independent of its 

 intrinsic merits. 



Outside of the city limits, the great point 

 of interest to the rambler and lover of na- 

 ture is the Rock Creek region. Rock Creek 

 is a large, rough, rapid stream, which has 

 its source in the interior of Maryland, and 

 flows into the Potomac between Washington 

 and Georgetown. Its course, for five or 

 six miles out of Washington, is marked by 

 great diversity of scenery. Flowing in a 

 deep valley, which now and then becomes a 

 wild gorge with overhanging rocks and high, 

 precipitous headlands, for the most part 

 wooded ; here reposing in long, dark reaches, 

 there sweeping and hurrying around a sud- 



