288 TEXAS AND ARIZONA 



warbler), so near me that the glass brought it al- 

 most into my hand, while I devoured its beauty ; 

 and then, of a sudden, it took flight into the 

 dense, leafy top of a tall Cottonwood, and I saw 

 it no more. No more for that time, that is to say. 

 In my mind, indeed, I bade it good-by forever. 

 It was not to be thought of that such a bit of 

 splendor (I had read of it as a mountain bird) 

 should happen in my way more than once. But 

 eight days afterward (March 28), in nearly the 

 same place, it appeared again, straight over my 

 head ; and I was almost as much astonished as 

 before. It was exploring the bare branches of a 

 row of roadside ash trees, and I followed it, or 

 rather preceded it, backing away as it flitted from 

 one tree to the next, keeping the sim behind me. 

 It carried itself now much like the common red- 

 start ; a little more inclined to moments of inac- 

 tivity, perhaps, but at short intervals darting into 

 the air after a passing insect with all conceivable 

 quickness. 



And such colors ! Such an unspeakable red, 

 so intense a black, and so pure a white ! If I said 

 that the vermilion flycatcher was the brightest 

 bird I saw in Arizona, I was like the Hebrew 

 psalmist. I said it in my haste. 



This time the redstart was in a singing mood. 

 On the previous occasion it had kept silence, and 



