A R^IPTUROUS SONG. 181 



glimpse of the mysterious bell-ringer, nearly as 

 big as a robin, modestly dressed in black and 

 white and chestnut, going about very busily on 

 the ground ; now giving a little jump that throws 

 a light shower of dirt and leaves into the air, 

 then looking earnestly in the spot thus uncov- 

 ered, perhaps picking something up, then hop- 

 ping to the lowest twig of the bush, and flinging 

 out upon the air his joyous song. We are for- 

 tunate to see him so soon ; he might tantalize 

 us all day with his song, and never give us 

 a glimpse of himself, for he delights in these 

 quiet places, under the thickest shrubs. He is 

 the towhee bunting or chewink, sometimes 

 called ground robin, and in that corner of Colo- 

 rado he takes the place the robin fills with us, 

 the most common bird about the house. 



Keep very still, and we may perhaps hear his 

 most ecstatic song, for remember it is June, the 

 wooing and nesting time of our feathered friends, 

 when their songs and their plumes are in perfec- 

 tion. The love-song of this particular chewink 

 is simply his usual silver-bell peal, with the ad- 

 dition of two rich notes in tremolo : first a note 

 lower in the scale than the bell, then a note 

 higher, each a soft, delicious, rapturous utterance 

 impossible to describe, but enchanting to hear. 



The nest is doubtless close by, but it will be 

 lost time to hunt for it in a wilderness of bushes 



