umber of additional
facts. The writer feels that the readers of the present volume will
relish at least a taste of bird study among the alpine heights of the
Rocky Mountains. The article is reprinted from the "Denver Post,"
whose courtesy is hereby acknowledged.

The common name of the subject of this sketch is the brown-capped rosy
finch; in the scientific works on ornithology he is called the
brown-capped leucosticte. He is certainly a bird of peculiar habits
and out-of-the-way preferences. Should he send you his card from his
summer residence, it would read something like this: "At home in the
mountains of Colorado, from 10,000 feet above sea-level to the summits
of the highest peaks." There is only one other bird in Colorado that
has so high a summer range, and that is the white-tailed ptarmigan,
usually called, in hunter's parlance, the "mountain quail."

The rosy finch is slightly larger than the bluebird. His general color
is light brown, suffused with a beautiful pink or rosy tint, the dark
shaft lines and pale edges of the feathers of the back giving it a
striped appearance. The forepart of the top of the head is blackish,
and the cap is brown, from which he gets the qualifying adjective of
his name. In the best nuptial plumage the rosy coloring is heightened
to an intense crimson, especially on the wings, tail coverts, and the
under parts. The female's attire is paler and duller of tint, the pink
being sometimes almost obsolete. Oddly enough, in summer the bills of
these birds are deep black, while in winter they become yellow, only
the tip remaining black or blackish.

My introduction to the leucostictes occurred on the summit of Pikes
Peak, at an elevation of 14,147 feet above the level of the sea. With
exhausting toil I climbed the peak one night, and the next morning,
when I stepped out of the signal station, where I had secured lodging,
a flock of the brown-caps were flitting merrily about the garbage heap,
helping themselves to an early breakfast. Their blithe chirping
sounded very much like conversation all among themselves, and
proclaimed two pleasant traits of character--cheerfulness and good
temper. It was evident that they were happy and contented in their
alpine home, in the upper story of the world, the rare, cool,
exhilarating air, the majestic panoramas, and the unlimited freedom all
contributing to the blithesomeness of their spirits. The keepers of
the signal station told me