AMONG THE FOOTHILLS 39 



In the afternoon we tramped up another 

 lumber road toward Mount Ingalls. One 

 is struck, in wandering through the woods 

 on these foothills, with the variety of trees 

 and mosses. I could name but few of the 

 mosses, but there were some of lovely 

 yellow and silver color and texture, and a 

 curious burnt-looking moss clung to the 

 boulders. Evergreen was also plentiful, 

 and " peat-moss " grew in patches through 

 the woods. The nuthatches were every- 

 where, as in the morning, and the differ- 

 ence between the notes of the two species 

 was quite marked, the red-breasted being 

 yan, yan, yan, repeated often so many times 

 that you wonder when the bird takes 

 breath ; the white-breasted had a longer 

 quank, quank. 



It seemed to be our fortune to meet 

 hairy woodpeckers on the twenty-ninth, 

 for on entering an old apple orchard back 

 of one of the farms, a male was climbing 

 about a small tree. Higher up in the 

 woods we saw another male, and when 

 returning a young male was tapping on 

 the posts of a log fence, while in a small 

 clearing the mournful whistle of a red 

 crossbill caught my ear. He was flying 



