'ERIC AN ORNITHOLOGY. 



hurry; these little people have all the time 

 there is, and in Santa Barbara one readily 



falls into the same 

 mood. First you hear 

 the orchestra tuning 

 up, a clear, sustained 

 pipe repeated more and 

 more rapidly, then 

 comes an answer on a 

 different pitch, then 

 another, till 

 ==5..^ all the woods 



ring on every 

 side. You 

 imagine a 

 large, brilli- 

 ant perform- 

 er , far in 

 the distance, 

 some lark 

 or thrush; 

 and with this 

 idea may 

 seek ye ars, 



as I did for the hidden musician, never noticing the tiny ash colored 

 mite in the bushes at your feet. Wonderful volume of sound to 

 come from such a tiny body. He has a way of making his voice 

 sound as if it came from a great distance, and indeed it does 

 come a long way, for in the evening I have often heard it from 

 a canon half a mile away. The tiny musician proves to be a 

 companionable little fellow; if you are not too proud to take a 

 lodging on the ground floor. He is the Wren-tit {Chamaea fasciata) , 

 a bird peculiar to California. He is clad in sombre brownish ash, 

 with fluffy plumage. There is something semi-comic about the 

 expression of his- great, round eye, as he stands on a low twig 

 and strains every muscle, down to his quivering tail, to utter a 

 louder pipe than his neighbors on the other side of the oaks. 

 His little bride is exactly like him, and they are very devoted 

 and constant companions. In fact I never saw a Wren-tit alone. 

 This shrill pipe is not the only note they use. They have also 

 a scolding tone with which they rebuke any unwonted stir among 

 the audience, and a soft babyish chirp which is reserved for love 



