ess, oppressive, without food, and perhaps to die,
he lay down by the mitten because he understood that I had told him
to. In the annals of dog heroism, I know of no greater deed.

Bob and Some Other Birds

Birds are plentiful on the Rockies, and the accumulating information
concerning them may, in a few years, accredit Colorado with having
more kinds of birds than any other State. The mountains and plains of
Colorado carry a wide range of geographic conditions,--a variety of
life-zones,--and in many places there is an abundance of bird-food of
many kinds. These conditions naturally produce a large variety of
birds throughout the State.

Notwithstanding this array of feathered inhabitants, most tourists who
visit the West complain of a scarcity of birds. But birds the Rockies
have, and any bird-student could tell why more of them are not seen by
tourists. The loud manners of most tourists who invade the Rockies
simply put the birds to flight. When I hear the approach of tourists
in the wilds, I feel instinctively that I should fly for safety
myself. "Our little brothers of the air" the world over dislike the
crowd, and will linger only for those who come with deliberation
and quiet.

This entire mountain-section, from foothills to mountain-summits,
is enlivened in nesting-time with scores of species of birds. Low
down on the foothills one will find Bullock's oriole, the red-headed
woodpecker, the Arkansas kingbird, and one will often see, and more
often hear, the clear, strong notes of the Western meadowlark ringing
over the hills and meadows. The wise, and rather murderous, magpie
goes chattering about. Here and there the quiet bluebird is seen. The
kingfisher is in his appointed place. Long-crested jays, Clarke's
crows, and pigmy nuthatches are plentiful, and the wild note of the
chickadee is heard on every hand. Above the altitude of eight thousand
feet you may hear, in June, the marvelous melody of Audubon's hermit
thrush.

Along the brooks and streams lives the water-ouzel. This is one of the
most interesting and self-reliant of Rocky Mountain birds. It loves
the swift, cool mountain-streams. It feeds in them, nests within reach
of the splash of their spray, closely follows their bent and sinuous
course in flight, and from an islanded boulder mingles its liquid song
with the music of the moving waters. There is much in the life of the
ouzel that is refreshing and inspiring. I wish it were better known