r, it came in two runs, the
first quite high in the scale, the second perhaps an octave lower. For a
long time I supposed that two thrushes were singing responsively, but
here at the "Loop," after listening for a couple of hours, it occurred
to me as improbable that there would invariably be a respondent when a
thrush lifted up his voice in song. Surely there would sometimes, at
least, be solo singing in the thrush realm. And so the conclusion was
forced upon me that both strains emanated from the same throat, that
each vocalist was its own respondent. It was worth while to clamber
laboriously about the "Loop" to settle a point like that--at all events,
it was worth while for one admirer of the birds.

HO! FOR GRAY'S PEAK!

[Illustration: PLATE VI

TOWNSEND'S SOLITAIRE--_Myiadestes townsendii_]

[Illustration]

By the uninitiated it may be regarded simply as fun and pastime to climb
a mountain whose summit soars into cloudland; in reality it is serious
business, not necessarily accompanied with great danger, but always
accomplished by laborious effort. However, it is better for the
clamberer to look upon his undertaking as play rather than work. Should
he come to feel that it is actual toil, he might soon weary of a task
engaged in so largely for its own sake, and decide to expend his time
and energy in something that would "pay better." Moreover, if he is
impelled by a hobby--ornithology, for instance--in addition to the mere
love of mountaineering, he will find that something very near akin to
wings has been annexed to the climbing gear of which he is naturally
possessed.

The morning of June 27 saw my youthful companion and myself mounted each
upon a shaggy burro, scrambling up the steep hill above Georgetown, en
route for Gray's Peak, the ascent of which was the chief goal of our
ambition in coming to the Rockies on the present expedition. The
distance from Georgetown to the summit of this peak is fourteen miles,
and the crest itself is fourteen thousand four hundred and forty-one
feet above sea-level, almost three hundred feet higher than Pike's Peak,
and cannot be scaled by means of a cog-wheel railway or any other
contrivance that uses steam or electricity as a motor. Indeed, the only
motor available at the time of our ascent--that is, for the final
climb--was "shank's horses," very useful and mostly safe, even if a
little plebeian. We had been wise enough not to plunge at once among the
heights,