288 THE MOUNTAINS OF CALIFORNIA 



it for a single moment. For, notwithstanding he 

 is often on the wing, he never flies overland, but 

 whirs with rapid, quail-like beat above the stream, 

 tracing all its windings. Even when the stream is 

 quite small, say from five to ten feet wide, he sel 

 dom shortens his flight by crossing a bend, how 

 ever abrupt it may be ; and even when disturbed 

 by meeting some one on the bank, he prefers to 

 fly over one's head, to dodging out over the ground. 

 When, therefore, his flight along a crooked stream 

 is viewed endwise, it appears most strikingly wav 

 ered a description on the air of every curve with 

 lightning-like rapidity. 



The vertical curves and angles of the most pre 

 cipitous torrents he traces with the same rigid 

 fidelity, swooping down the inclines of cascades, 

 dropping sheer over dizzy falls amid the spray, 

 and ascending with the same fearlessness and ease, 

 seldom seeking to lessen the steepness of the ac 

 clivity by beginning to ascend before reaching the 

 base of the fall. No matter though it may be sev 

 eral hundred feet in height he holds straight on, as 

 if about to dash headlong into the throng of boom 

 ing rockets, then darts abruptly upward, and, after 

 alighting at the top of the precipice to rest a 

 moment, proceeds to feed and sing. His flight is 

 solid and impetuous, without any intermission of 

 wing-beats, one homogeneous buzz like that of a 

 laden bee on its way home. And while thus buzzing 

 freely from fall to fall, he is frequently heard giving 

 utterance to a long outdrawn train of unmodulated 

 notes, in no way connected with his song, but cor 

 responding closely with his flight in sustained vigor. 



