" THE GHOSTLY CHAT." 233 



sorrow and shame of knowing that my curiosity 

 had driven the pair from the neighborhood. 

 This was the Western form of Icteria, differing 

 from the Eastern only in a greater length of 

 tail, which several of our Rocky Mountain birds 

 affect, for the purpose, apparently, of puzzling 

 the ornithologist. 



Two years after my unsuccessful attempt to 

 cultivate friendly relations with "the ghostly 

 chat," the middle of May found me on the shore 

 of the Great Salt Lake, where I settled myself 

 at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains, at that 

 point bare, gray, and unattractive, showing miles 

 of loose bowlders and great patches of sage-bush. 

 In the monotonous stretches of this shrub, each 

 plant of which looks exactly like every other, 

 dwelt many shy birds, as well hidden as bobo- 

 links in the meadow grass, or meadow-larks in 

 the alfalfa. 



But on this mountain side no friendly cover 

 existed from which I could spy out bird secrets. 

 Whatever my position, and wherever I placed 

 myself, I was as conspicuous as a tower in the 

 middle of a plain ; again, no shadow of protec- 

 tion was there from the too ardent sun of Utah, 

 which drew the vitality from my frame as it did 

 the color from my gown ; worse than these, the 

 everywhere present rocks were the chosen haunts 

 of the one enemy of a peaceful bird lover, the 



