34 IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 



is affirmed by those who know him better, that 

 he has, and I fully believe it. 



One thing is certainly true of nearly if not 

 quite all of our native birds, that no two sing 

 exactly alike, and the close observer soon learns 

 to distinguish between the robins and the song- 

 sparrows of a neighborhood, by their notes alone. 

 The Western lark seems even more than others 

 to individualize his utterances, so that constant 

 surprises reward the discriminating listener. 

 During two months' bird-study in that delight- 

 ful canon-hidden grove at the foot of Cheyenne 

 Mountain, one particular bird song was for 

 weeks an unsolved mystery. The strain con- 

 sisted of three notes in loud, ringing tones, 

 which syllabled themselves very plainly in my 

 ear as " Whip-for-her." 



This unseemly, and most emphatic, demand 

 came always from a distance, and apparently 

 from the top of some tall tree, and it proved to 

 be most tantalizing ; for although the first note 

 invariably brought me out, opera-glass in hand, 

 I was never able to come any nearer to a sight 

 of the unknown than the sway of a twig he had 

 just left. 



One morning, however, before I was up, the 

 puzzling songster visited the little grove under my 

 windows, and I heard his whole song, of which 

 it now appeared the three notes were merely the 



