48 Dr. E. Coues— Field Notes on Lophortyx gambeli. , 
hardly composed of the same elements. Instead of the gorgeous 
tints of maples, beeches, and hickories, the deep, never-changing 
sombre green of the pines and cedars meets the eye. No cold, 
bracing air is felt: all the rich, luxuriant warmth of Sep¬ 
tember is still unaltered; but an indescribable something there 
is about it, so pure, fresh, and invigorating, that the thrilling of 
the nerves it causes is almost intoxicating. But deep draughts 
of the living oxygen we must take, and dilate the chest to the 
utmost; for we are seven or eight thousand feet above sea-level, 
and the dry thin air hardly satisfies lungs accustomed to a heavier, 
more humid atmosphere. In all there is a strange admixture of 
new and wonderful with old and familiar things. Along the 
banks of some clear creek we may fancy ourselves still in New 
England; for a heavy fringe of cotton-wood, willow, and walnut 
clothes its banks, and their leaves are of the purest golden. 
The showy Solidago, with its brightest of chrome flowers, meets 
us on every hand; and as we recognize the old friend, side by 
side with it we notice the crimson-red pulpy fruit of the prickly 
pear*—a strange neighbour. And in the tangled patches of 
Smilax , in the graceful festoons of wild grapes, and clusters of 
rose-bushes we recognize still other familiar things, which, 
however, seem rather to heighten by contrast, than to lessen, 
the feeling of loneliness and home-sickness that so many new 
and strange things conspire to produce. The little ground- 
squirrel- ( Tamias dorsalis), scampering among yonder rocks, is 
not our familiar little “ chip-muck ,” but a shy, retiring species 
that never leaves his favourite boulders. That little brown bird 
that is sitting on yonder dead limb is surely a Pewee ( Contopus , 
sp. nov.), but how different is his cry, as he darts after a passing 
insect, from the sad, soft, u pee-a-wee ” that fills our eastern 
woods. The harsh scream of the Jay ( Cyanurus macrolophus) 
in that tall pine certainly sounds familiar; but as we catch a 
glimpse of him through the thick foliage, lo ! he is almost 
black instead of olive, and his crest is so long that it seems ready 
to topple over. Wander on, and muse on, and let space- 
* Any one of the numerous species of Opuntia, which, with many 
kinds of Cereus and other genera of Cactacece, form a very prominent 
and characteristic feature of the Arizonian flora. 
