WITH BROWN PREDOMINATING 265 



richness until the flood season of the early summer. 

 Then the torrents chant their noblest anthems, and then 

 is the flood-tide of our songster's melody. As for weather, 

 dark days and sun days are alike to him. No need of 

 spring sunshine to thaw his song, for it never freezes. 

 Never shall you hear anything wintry from his warm 

 breast, no pinched cheeping, no wavering notes between 

 sorrow and joy ; his mellow fluty voice is ever tuned to 

 downright gladness, as free from dejection as cock- 

 crowing. . . . The more striking strains are perfect ara- 

 besques of melody, composed of a few full, round, mellow 

 notes, embroidered with delicate trills which fade and 

 melt in long slender cadences. In a general way his 

 music is that of the streams refined and spiritualized. 

 The deep booming notes of the falls are in it, the trills 

 of rapids, the gurgling of margin eddies, the low whis- 

 pering of level reaches and the sweet tinkle of separate 

 drops oozing from the ends of mosses and falling into 

 tranquil pools." ^ 



After this exquisite description gleaned from Mr. Muir's 

 essay on the Water Ouzel, one scarcely dares attempt 

 anything original on the subject. And yet the thrill of 

 discovering my first Ouzel's nest will never be forgotten. 

 Often had I watched the bird fly through the waterfalls, 

 dart into the swirling rapids, or courtesy daintily on a rock 

 that rose in the middle of a white torrent ; often heard 

 his clear song rising above the wild tumult of the water ; 

 often seen the ball of moss on a slender shelf of rock 

 wet by the spray, and been told that it was the nest 



1 John Muir, in "The Mountains of California." 



