w down into the nook with a
freshness that stimulated like wine with no danger of intoxicating; and
it was no wonder that the white-crowned sparrows, Lincoln's sparrows,
the robins and wrens, and several other species, found in this spot a
pleasant place to live. One of the narrow valleys led directly up to the
base of the massive cone of the Peak, its stream fed by the snow-fields
shining in the sun. Going around by the valley of Seven Lakes, I had
walked down from the summit, but nowhere had I seen the tiny hummer
until I reached the green nook just described. Still, he sometimes
ascends to an elevation of eleven thousand feet above the level of the
sea.

_ONE OF THE SEVEN LAKES_

_PIKE'S PEAK shows dimly in the background, more plainly in the
reflection. Viewed from the peak, the lakes sparkle like opaline gems in
the sun. The waters are so clear that an inverted world is seen in their
transparent depths. The valley is an elysium for many kinds of birds,
most of them described in the text. The white-crowned sparrows love the
shores of these beautiful lakes, which mirror the blithe forms of the
birds. The pine forests of the mountain sides are vocal with the
refrains of the hermit thrushes._

[Illustration]

Our feathered dot is gorgeous with his metallic green upper parts,
bordered on the tail with purplish black, his white or grayish under
parts, and his gorget of purple which gleams in bright, varying tints in
the sun. He closely resembles our common ruby-throated humming-bird,
whose gorget is intense crimson instead of purple, and who does not
venture into the Rocky Mountain region, but dwells exclusively in the
eastern part of North America. It is a little strange that the eastern
part of our country attracts only one species of the large hummer
family, while the western portion, including the Rocky Mountain region,
can boast of at least seventeen different kinds as summer residents or
visitors.

My attention was first directed to the broad-tailed hummer by seeing him
darting about in the air with the swiftness of an arrow, sipping honey
from the flower cups, and then flying to the twigs of a dead tree that
stood in the marsh. There he sat, turning his head this way and that,
and watching me with his keen little eyes. It was plain he did not trust
me, and therefore resented my presence. Though an unwelcome guest, I
prolonged my call for several hours, during which I made many heroic but
vain attempts to fi