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toric Lewis Overthrast Fault, of the map, the ouzel was watched 

 through the glass flying down over the white roaring waterfall, turn- 

 ing a shielding point of rock, and buzzing like a hummingbird in 

 front of a ledge before the open mouth of a domed mossy nest from 

 which, with a noisy Avelcome, widely gaping yellow bills reached 

 down to be fed. Then off like a flash, the eager parent flew over 

 the frothing swirling water and through the wind-blown spraj' back 

 up the tumbling falls to its hunting ground on the lake above. 



When tired pei'haps by strenuously climbing waterfalls, one of 

 the pair went hunting l)elow along the bank of the creek, and 

 an observer new to water ouzels and their strange ways, catching 

 the enthusiasm of fir.st-hand knowledge, exclaimed excitedly, " TZe 

 went right doivn, under water! He went down under water !" When, 

 lured by some tempting morsel at the bottom of the creek, the little 

 water wren, secure in his oilskin suit, does go below in this way, he 

 often swims along a bit before coming up, though boasting no 

 webbed feet to paddle with. A commoner " stunt " is to stand on a 

 rock — like the large one in the middle of Swiftcurrent facing his 

 nest, Avhich holds a basin of water — and plunge his head in up to 

 his body, giving an amusing headless horseman effect. 



At this time of year he had little need to hunt under water, for 

 banks and shores and ledges were fairly alive with caddice flies just 

 coming out of their cases, and we could see long wings in the bills 

 of the parents. The family providers had long hours to work here 

 in the north where daylight lasts so late. One was actually seen 

 taking food to the nest at 9 o'clock at night. And by 6 — and no 

 one knows how much earlier — the pair were at work again the next 

 morning. When the sun first came into the cold gorge of the glacial 

 stream, the father of the family, sitting on the rock in the middle 

 of the creek, burst into song and sang jubilantly for some time, 

 but then stopped short and began the work of his long busy day. 



When the sun got in far enough to light up the nest the picture 

 from the bottom of the gorge facing it was a pretty one, though the 

 strong draft sweeping through shook the legs of the tripod disas- 

 trously, and the dashing spray clouded the lens. The mossy nest, 

 resting on a narrow shelf several feet above the roaring stream, was 

 securely wedged in under a roofing ledge. Dark mosses growing 

 over tlie ledges and small bright green ferns on either side of the 

 nest itself added to the attractiveness of the picture. What a home 

 the little water wrens had chosen! How they must love the rush 

 and roar of water, the exhilaration of wind-blown spray, the music 

 of the cascades, and the privacy of their rainbow-arched gorge beyond 

 Avhose white Avaterfalls looms the noble head of Grinnell Mountain 

 under resplendent clouds I 



