132 NORTH CAROLINA 



barely distinguishable, rising from Horse 

 Cove as I guessed, and, for a few minutes, a 

 man whom my eye fell upon most unexpect- 

 edly, a motionless speck, though he was 

 walking, far down the Walhalla road. I 

 turned my glass that way, and behold, he 

 had the usual bag of grain on his back. 



The date was May 12. I had been in 

 Highlands less than a week, and my thoughts 

 still ran upon ravens, the birds which, more 

 even than the southern snowbird and the 

 mountain vireo, I had come hither to seek. 

 They were said often to fly over, and this 

 surely should be a place to see them. They 

 could not escape me, if they passed within a 

 mile. But though I kept an eye out, as we 

 say, and an ear open, it was a vigil thrown 

 away. Buzzards, swifts, and a bunch of 

 twittering goldfinches were all the birds that 

 " flew over." A chestnut-sided warbler sang 

 so persistently from the mountain side just 

 below that his sharp voice became almost a 

 trouble. From the same quarter rose the 

 songs of an oven-bird, a rose-breasted gros- 

 beak, and a scarlet tanager. On the sum- 

 mit itself were snowbirds and chewinks ; and 

 once, to my delight, a field sparrow gave out 



