ON FOOT IN THE YOSEMITE 



" A robin's nest !" said I. " No, indeed. Haven't 

 you seen the bird diving headfirst, Hke a naked 

 schoolboy, off that stump yonder. 



''Why, yes," said the guide, ''I 've often seen 

 her diving into the water ; but I supposed she was 

 a robin." 



On my questioning him further he gave it as 

 his opinion that there might be half a dozen kinds 

 of birds about the Valley, and he was mightily 

 astonished when I informed him that even in my 

 brief stay I had counted more than eighty. And 

 still I believe he would know a bear when he saw 

 it, or a bear's grunt when he heard it ; for bears, 

 naturally enough, — being so much larger, for one 

 thing, — are more generally popular than birds 

 among men of his way of life and thought. 



His notion of the robin as a natatorial per- 

 former, by the bye, recalls something that hap- 

 pened lately to a friend of mine, an ornithologist 

 of national reputation. He was on a first visit 

 to southern California, and was walking one day 

 with a lady, a recent acquaintance, when she sud- 

 denly exclaimed : — 



"Oh, Mr. A., you were wishing to see road- 

 runners. There they are, a whole flock of them, 

 on the beach." 



"Those } " said Mr. A., a man of distinguished 

 native politeness, — like ornithologists in gen- 

 197 



