stern yellow-shafted high-holder. Why the Rocky Mountain
region changes the lining of the flicker's wings from gold to
crimson--who can tell? A robin--the western variety--sang his
"Cheerily," a short distance up the hollow, right at the boundary of the
timber-line.

[Illustration: "_Dear Whittier_"

_White-Crowned Sparrow_]

About half-past five I found myself a few hundred feet below timber-line
in the lone valley, which was already beginning to look shadowy and a
little uncanny, the tall ridges that leaped up at the right obscuring
the light of the declining sun. My purpose had been to find
accommodations at a mountaineer's cabin far down the valley, in the
neighborhood of the Seven Lakes; but I had tarried too long on the
mountain, absorbed in watching the birds, and the danger now was that,
if I ventured farther down the hollow, I should lose my way and be
compelled to spend the night alone in this deserted place. I am neither
very brave nor very cowardly; but, in any case, such a prospect was not
pleasing to contemplate. Besides, I was by no means sure of being able
to secure lodgings at the mountaineer's shanty, even if I should be able
to find it in the dark. There seemed to be only one thing to do--to
climb back to the signal station on the summit.

I turned about and began the ascent. How much steeper the acclivities
were than they had seemed to be when I came down! My limbs ached before
I had gone many rods, and my breath came short. Upward I toiled, and by
the time my trail reached the cog-road I was ready to drop from
exhaustion. Yet I had not gone more than a third of the way to the top.
I had had no supper, but was too weary even to crave food, my only
desire being to find some place wherein to rest. Night had now come, but
fortunately the moon shone brightly from a sky that was almost clear,
and I had no difficulty in following the road.

Wearily I began to climb up the steep cog-wheel track. Having trudged
around one curve, I came to a portion of the road that stretched
straight up before me for what seemed an almost interminable distance,
and, oh! the way looked so steep, almost as if it would tumble back upon
my head. Could I ever drag myself up to the next bend in the track? By
a prodigious effort I did this at last--it seemed "at last" to me, at
all events--and, lo! there gleamed before me another long stretch of
four steel rails.

My breath came shorter and shorter, until I was compelled to