WATER OUZEL; AMERICAN DIPPER 243 



One day, while perched on an isolated glacial boulder 

 I was held spellbound by the beauties of Virgin Falls, 

 just where the Nipigon River leaves Lake Nipigon. A 

 Water Ouzel came flitting across the apron of the fall; 

 like a flat stone ' ' skipped ' ' over the undulating water, it 

 went skimming along. As the bird flew over the rapids 

 within a few inches of the treacherous splashes, it seemed 

 to ride on billows of air, the curves of which corresponded 

 exactly to the undulations of the rushing waters. 



Lighting on a stone within a few feet of where I 

 stood, it bowed its head a couple of times, and apparently 

 said: "Now that we have been introduced, I shall sing 

 for you." 



Such familiarity was truly reciprocal, and I joyfully 

 and patiently listened to the lay, then watched the bird 

 wade underneath a little clear pool of water, emerge and 

 fly to its nest. On this invitation I visited its home to 

 picture the nest in its hidden, damp, northern seclusion. 

 Then, wishing the bird good luck, I bade my new friend 

 farewell. 



