86 TOWNSEND'S SOLITAIRE. 
Se Re io Mpsetaene OSS ates eT te ee 
of that of the Wood Thrush, and agrees better with the descriptions of that of the 
Nightingale of Europe.” 
When Dr. Elliott Coues prepared his valuable work ‘Birds of the North-West,” 
he was favored by Mr. Trippe with the following interesting communication: ‘This 
exquisite songster is a permanent resident of the mountains of Colorado, and may be 
seen at all times of the year, from the lower valley of the country up to timber line, 
and in midsummer even beyond it, to the highest limit of the shrubby willows and 
junipers. Itis never a familiar bird, shunning the vicinity of houses and cultivated fields, 
and seeking the rockiest mountain sides and darkest cafions as its favorite haunts, yet 
avoiding the sombre depths of dense forests, though occasionally found therein. During 
the winter it feeds on berries and such insects as it can find, but in the warmer months 
subsists almost entirely upon the latter, which it captures with the address of the most 
skilful Flycatcher. It is never gregarious, and usually solitary, associating together 
only from the time of pairing, which is in the early part of May, until the young are 
able to shift for themselves. It frequently alights on the top of a dead limb or tree, 
from which it keeps a bright lookout for passing insects, and returns several times to 
the same perch after capturing its prey; it also frequents the lower boughs, and at 
times alights upon the ground and searches among the leaves for food. In its flight it 
bears some resemblance to the Cedar Bird, with which, indeed, it has many common 
traits. In summer and fall its voice is rarely heard; but as winter comes on, and the 
woods are well-nigh deserted by all save a few Titmice and Nuthatches, it begins to 
utter occasionally a single bell-like note that can be heard distinctly at a great distance. 
The bird is now very shy; and the author of the clear, loud call, that I heard nearly 
every morning from the valley of Clear Creek, was long a mystery to me. Toward the 
middle and latter part of winter, as the snow begins to fall, the Flycatching Thrush 
delights to sing, choosing for its rostrum a pine tree in some elevated position, high up 
above the valleys; and not all the fields and groves, and hills and valleys of the Eastern 
States, can boast a more exquisite song; a song in which the notes of the Purple Finch, 
the Wood Thrush, and the Winter Wren, are blended into a silvery cascade of melody, 
that ripples and dances down the mountain side as clear and sparkling as the mountain 
brook, filling the woods and valleys with ringing music. At first it sings only on bright 
clear mornings; but once fairly in the mood, it sings at all hours and during the most 
inclement weather. Often while traveling over the narrow, winding mountain roads, 
toward the close of winter, I have been overtaken and half-blinded by sudden, furious 
storms of wind and snow, and compelled to seek the nearest tree and projecting rock 
for shelter. In such situations I have frequently listened to the song of this bird, and 
forgot the cold and wet in its enjoyment. Toward spring, as soon as the other birds 
begin to sing, it becomes silent as though disdainful of joining the common chorus, and 
commences building its nest in May, earlier than almost any other bird. During this 
season it deserts the valleys, and confines itself to partially wooded hill-tops.” 
That the Clarino only sings in winter and is silent during the breeding season, as 
Mr. Trippe believes, is not corroborated by other observers. On the contrary, it sings in 
breeding time still more beautifully and persistently. Mr. Henshaw, who saw the Clarino 
in June, says that its habits, as far as he noticed them, are singularly like those of the 
