CIRCUIT OF THE SUMMER HILLS 



a rounded arm or shoulder, like a fur cape upon a 

 woman. Here and there also huge, weather-worn 

 boulders rest upon the ground, dropped there by the 

 moving ice-sheet tens upon tens of thousands of 

 years ago; and here and there are streaks of land 

 completely covered with smaller rocks wedged and 

 driven into the ground. It used to be told me in my 

 youth that the devil's apron-string broke as he 

 was carrying a load of these rocks overhead, and let 

 the mass down upon the ground. The farmers 

 seldom attempt to clear away these leavings of the 

 devil. 



IV 



My interest in the birds is not as keen as it once 

 was, but they are still an asset in my life. I must 

 live where I can hear the crows caw, the robins sing, 

 and the song-sparrow trill. If I can hear also the 

 partridge drum, and the owl hoot, and the chip- 

 munk cluck in the still days of autumn, so much the 

 better. The crow is such a true countryman, so 

 much at home everywhere, so thoroughly in posses- 

 sion of the land, going his way winter and summer 

 in such noisy contentment and pride of possession, 

 that I cannot leave him out. The bird I missed 

 most in California was the crow. I missed his glis- 

 tening coat in the fields, his ebony form and hearty 

 call in the sky. 



One advantage of sleeping out of doors, as we do 

 39 



