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 



