72 THE MOUNTAINS 



few minutes he flew into an old, dying 

 hemlock, where he was plainly visible. 

 His crown was black; his cheeks, white; 

 his wings, with greenish edges and white 

 bars; and his back, gray streaked with 

 black. The markings were so clear that 

 I easily placed the bird — it was a black- 

 poll warbler. With the quick recognition 

 a thrill of happy amazement went all 

 through me. For this wee creature, with 

 his funny little attempt at song, was 

 known to me, long since, as a most daring 

 traveler. As a matter of fact, he was 

 stopping for breakfast in our "Drew 

 Forest" on a most perilous journey, by 

 land and by sea — a journey which began 

 in South America and might end only in 

 Alaska! 



This statement is so extraordinary that 

 I would better confirm it by scientific 

 authority. W. W. Cooke (United States 

 Biological Survey) says: "The shortest 

 journey that any blackpoll performs is 

 thirty-five hundred miles, while those that 



