A BIRD-GAZER AT THE CAS[0N 



diagnostic plumage !), streaked with dark under- 

 neath, sporting a long tail (for a finch), and for 

 its best mark having a broad whitish or grayish 

 band over the eye. So much he saw, and then it 

 was gone, uttering as it flew the same notes that 

 he had heard from the flock shortly before. Prob- 

 ably it was one of the various purple finches, — 

 Cassin's, as likely as any, a species due in this 

 general region, and having a longish tail. " Prob- 

 ably ! " — that is an uncomfortable word for a 

 bird-gazer, but in the present case there seemed 

 no possibility of bettering it ; and, when all is 

 said, probability is a kind of half -loaf, to say the 

 worst of it, a little better than nothing. 



Anyhow, the bird was gone, and gone for 

 good, and with it had departed for the time 

 being all the gazer's interest in the sacred river, 

 and in the gaudy colors and bizarre shapes of 

 the great chasm. A path beckoned him into the 

 woods, and, with birds in his eye, he took it. It 

 was well he did, for he had hardly more than 

 started before he stopped short. Hark ! Was n't 

 that a robin's note ? Yes, somewhere before him, 

 out among the low pinons, the bird was cackling 

 at short intervals, — the very same cackle that a 

 Massachusetts robin utters when it finds itself 

 astray from the flock. Half a dozen times or 

 more the anxious sounds were repeated, while 

 217 



