In the Sierra Nevada 313 
later (say early in June) an ornithologist could easily verify 
the fact. 
May the 1st broke bright and clear, not a cloud in the azure 
firmament. The songs of hoopoes, serins, and a cuckoo resounded 
hard by, and from our paneless window we watched three glorious 
rock-thrushes “displaying” before their sober mates—as sketched 
at_p. 18. Within sight among the tumbled boulders were also 
a pair of blue thrushes, with a woodlark or two, several black- 
starts, and rock-buntings. 
We bathed in an ice-cold burn with temperature little above 
WOODLARK (Alauda arborea) 
Nests in Nevada up to 5000 feet, and in the pine-forests of Dofiana at sea-level. 
freezing—at dawn, indeed, the backwaters were ice-bound. Then, 
mounted on a donkey, the writer alternately scrambled up the 
stony steeps or dragged the sure-footed beastie behind. The 
gentler slopes were fairly clad with yellow daffodil or narcissus, 
now just coming into bloom, and above 7000 feet we entered a 
zone of dwarf-arbutus and ilex-scrub. The warm sunshine 
brought out numerous butterflies—it seemed strange to see these 
frail creatures fluttermg across open snows! Most of those 
recognised were tortoise-shells, rather paler than our own. 
Alas, before noon the icy mists once more swept up. Ina 
crevice among some rocks where we sought shelter at 8000 feet 
the skeleton of a wheatear attested the cruel conditions of bird- 
life—death by starvation. Here we separated, the writer going 
