ite
interpretation:

There are many to-morrows, my love, my love,
But only one to-day.

In the summer robins are frequently seen. Especially do they revel
on the lawns at Tahoe Tavern, their red-breasts and their peculiar
"smithing" or "cokeing" just as alluring and interesting as the
plumage and voices of the richer feathered and finer songsters of the
bird family.

Mountain quails are quite common, and one sometimes sees a dozen
flocks in a day. Grouse are fairly plentiful. One day just on the
other side of Granite Chief Peak a fine specimen sailed up and out
from the trail at our very feet, soared for quite a distance, as
straight as a bullet to its billet for a cluster of pine trees, and
there hid in the branches. My guide walked down, gun in hand, ready
to shoot, and as he came nearer, two others dashed up in disconcerting
suddenness and flew, one to the right, the other to the left. We never
got a sight of any of them again.

At another time I was coming over by Split Crag from the Lake of the
Woods, with Mr. Price, of Fallen Leaf Lodge, when two beautiful grouse
arose from the trail and soared away in their characteristic style.

At one time sage-hens were not infrequent on the Nevada side of the
Lake, and as far west as Brockways. Indeed it used to be a common
thing for hunters, in the early days, to come from Truckee, through
Martis Valley, to the Hot Springs (as Brockways was then named) and
shoot sage-hens all along the way. A few miles north of Truckee, Sage
Hen Creek still preserves, in the name, the fact that the sage-hen was
well known there.

Bald-headed and golden eagles are often seen in easy and circular
flight above the highest peaks. In the fall and winter they pass over
into the wild country near the almost inaccessible peaks above
the American River and there raise their young. One year Mr. Price
observed a pair of golden eagles which nested on Mt. Tallac. He and I
were seated at lunch one day in September, 1913, on the very summit of
Pyramid Peak, when, suddenly, as a bolt out of a clear sky, startling
us with its wild rush, an eagle shot obliquely at us from the upper
air. The speed with which it fell made a noise as of a "rushing mighty
wind." Down! down, it fell, and then with the utmost grace imaginable,
swept up, still going at terrific speed, circled about, and was soon
lost to sight.

Almost as fond of the wind-tossed pines high up on the slopes of the
mountain as is the eagle