2 be seen by the ordinary bird lover; and their travelling call 
may be heard by the initiated, even in hospital beds in cities, 
as it drops down from the sky paths known only to birds 
: following the urge for summer homes, or obeying some sixth 
sense which drives them southward in the fall. 
If you are a lover of mountains, and know that feeling 
| which sends you out into the high places for a renewal of _ 4 
life and vigor, you may hope some day in the Cascades or 
Olympics to run across a pale brown thrush about the size 
of the western bluebird. This little creature which fades 
away in the shadows of brake or shrub is much like the 
image that “merry brown thrush” calls to the mind of those 
who love birds in literature, but who have never expanded 
their horizon oe getting their knowledge from original 
sources. 
If, however, you have strapped your food and plankets 
on your back and climbed until your muscles felt as if all © 
power had left them, and you had to lean forward on the 
‘mountain’s breast until your breath and strength returned, 
so that you could go higher to the mottled snow that lies 
under the firs and cedars even in June, you may have seen 
- this shadow of a bird named the Sierra Hermit Thrush. If  _ 
it stopped to survey you, so that you could get a mental 
picture, ever after have you not been able, at times, to recall 
the elusive feeling which made you part and parcel of the 
stillness of your vast surroundings? : 
Only an artist could have mixed the transparent wash 
of gray-brown that covered most of its head, back, and 
flanks, brightening to rich cinnamon below in front of its 
tail. The dark brown eyes, due to the white rings about 
them, seemed to be looking at you through a pair of tiny 
spectacles in the regular dignified thrush fashion. That 
white breast, trimmed with russet arrowshaped spots, 
_ineloses a heart that has not learned fear. © 
| His song, but who could describe the song of any arnt 
thrush? Their throat has been called God’s violin and the _ 
104 
