BICKNELL’S THRUSH. it 
brief warble of the Black-and-Yellow Warbler! told of the presence of its unseen author 
in the surrounding trees, while among the undergrowth the less frequent, but louder 
and more sustained song of the Mourning Ground-warbler? showed that this species, 
which had been left at the foot of the mountain, had here reappeared. At intervals, 
faintly mingling with these songs, from some hidden fastness from below, came the 
fantasia of the Winter Wren, a melody that seemed to pass from the spirit of unclaimed 
nature, voicing some mystery of the mountains. The clamor of a party of Blue Jays 
occasionally arose and died away in the forest, but here in this mountain solitude, their 
screams seemed more subdued than in less primitive regions, and lacked that suggestion 
of consciousness which individuals constantly within human hearing, seem to acquire. 
Busily roaming Chickadees? at times came about our path, and the Snowbird* was 
present with its simple song. Olive-backed Thrushes® too, were constantly to be heard, 
and finally, guided by its near song, one was followed up and secured. A moment 
later another Thrush darted across the path, and disappearing through a young 
balsam growth, immediately began to sing a few rods off. The song was different from 
that of the bird which has just been shot, so much so, in fact, as to be remarked even 
by my guide. It seemed to be more uniform in character, with less variation and 
definition of the notes: as I wrote in my note-book at the time—more suggestive of 
the song of the Veery. A conspicuous point of difference was that it was more subdued 
in tone, in faét of a somewhat ventriloquous nature. On examining the bird, in hand, 
although I had thought myself familiar with all our eastern Wood Thrushes‘’, I must 
confess to having been puzzled. It was obviously neither the Olive-backed nor the 
Hermit Thrush, the only species of our own smaller Thrushes which from the distribu- 
tion of their group (as then understood) could possibly be expected to occur. I at once 
noted its general resemblance to the Gray-cheeked Thrush, but it seemed impossible that 
this Hudsonian bird could be found so far south at this season; and though a second 
specimen pointed more strongly toward it, it was not until I had reached home and 
made actual comparisons, that I could feel satisfied that its true relationship was with 
that species. These examples from the Catskills were submitted to Mr. Ridgway, the 
result being the recognition of a new bird, belonging to our eastern fauna. 
But to return to the mountain. It would hardly be justifiable to make a positive 
statement about a difficult song that had been but once identified, but I feel positive 
that the Thrushes which were last heard that evening about our camp on the extreme 
summit of the mountain were of the new form. Night was rapidly falling, and the 
valleys were in darkness, when one sang several times near the camp, and for some 
time afterwards a single call-note was occasionally heard, and the varying distance of 
the sound showed that the birds were still active. Excepting these sounds, the last 
bird-notes heard were those of the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. 
The sharp northwest wind continued late, and the night became clear and cold. 
Shortly after midnight the bright moon showed the temperature, by a thermometer 
which I had hung beside the camp, to be 35°, and at sunrise it stood at 32°. Before 
daylight I was standing on a boulder of conglomerate on the dim mountain’s brow 
1 Dendroica maculosa. 2 Geothlypis philadelphia. 3 Parus atricapillus. 4 Junco hyemalis. » Turdus ustulatus 
swainsoni. 6 Hylocichlae. 
3 
