through the snow. He preys upon the cony and 

 the birds of the alpine zone. Like the mountain 

 lion and some human hunters, he does wanton 

 killing just for amusement. He is bloodthirsty, 

 cunning, and even bold. Many times, within a 

 few feet, he has glared fiendishly at me, seem- 

 ing almost determined to attack; his long, low- 

 geared body and sinister and snaky eyes make 

 him a mean object to look upon. 



An experience with a number of rosy finches 

 in the midst of a blizzard was one of the most 

 cheerful ever given me by wild fellow creatures. 

 While snowshoeing across one of the high 

 passes, I was caught in a terrific gale, w T hich 

 dashed the powdered snow-dust so thickly and 

 incessantly that breathing was difficult and at 

 times almost strangling. Crawling beneath an 

 enormous rock-slab to rest and breathe, I dis- 

 turbed a dozen or so rosy finches already in 

 possession and evidently there for the same pur- 

 pose as myself. They moved to one side and 

 made room for me, but did not go out. As I 

 settled down, they looked at me frankly and 

 without a fear. Such trust! After one calm 



112 



