AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



207 



The Indians noticed my enthusiasm, and gathering in little knots, 

 eyed me curiously and conversed in gutteral tones, wondering no doubt 

 what there was in that little bundle ot red and grey feathered to attract 

 my attention. Poor children of nature! that Robin did not hold the 

 affection in their hearts that it did in mine. 



WHERE ROBIN GREETED US. 



(Head of Cook Inlet; strand ice in channel at low tide. Knik mountain in the distance.) 



Redbreast was perched on the top of a spruce, and while I watched 

 he flew nearer and alighted on a naked balsam-poplar. In his nervous, 

 characteristic way he jerked his tail and lifted his wings several times, 

 then hastened away, bidding me good-bye as he went. 



What a fastidious bird! were there not enough groves and shade 

 trees in either the United States or Canada in which he could select a 

 nesting site? Why then should he compel his wife to journey so many 

 thousand miles to build her nest and to bring forth their brood? Pos- 

 sibly he was like the man who became a savage — tired of civilization,, 

 and anxious to get as far from modern firearms, egg collectors and 

 house cats as his strong wings could carry him. 



Before my season's work was finished I learned that several other 

 feathered'friends, of my boyhood acquintance, owned summer houses 



