FAR AND NEAR 



mottled black and white with a rich golden tinge 

 on its back. It is a wonderful fiver. We found it 

 near the Arctic circle; six months later, probably the 

 same birds might have been found in Patagonia. 



In a patch of willows along the creek the gray- 

 cheeked thrush w^as in song, and the fox sparrow and 

 the western tree sparrow were found. I saw one of 

 the thrushes do what I never saw any of the thrush 

 kind do before: it hovered in the air fifty feet or 

 more above the moor and repeated its song three 

 times very rapidly. As there were no trees to afford 

 it a lofty perch, it perched upon the air. 



It was a very novel experience, this w^alking over 

 the tundra; its vastness, its uniformity, its solitude, 

 its gentleness, its softness of contour, its truly bo- 

 real character, — the truncated hills and peaks on 

 the near horizon suggesting huge earthworks, the 

 rounded and curved elevations like the backs of pros- 

 trate giants turned up to the sun, and farther off the 

 high, serrated, snow-streaked ranges on the remote 

 horizon to the north, — all made up a curious and 

 unfamiliar picture. 



We were fortunate in having clear, bright skies 

 during our stay in these high latitudes. But the 

 nights were starless; the sun was so near, there 

 was so much light in the sky, that the stars were 

 put out. The sun set about ten and rose about 

 two, dipping down but a little way below the bori° 

 zon. 



116 



