morning sunbeams heralds the approach of Indian
summer. The shallow river is now at rest, its flood-work done. It is now
but little more than a series of pools united by trickling, whispering
currents that steal softly over brown pebbles and sand with scarce an
audible murmur. Each pool has a character of its own and, though they
are nearly currentless, the night air and tree shadows keep them cool.
Their shores curve in and out in bay and promontory, giving the
appearance of miniature lakes, their banks in most places embossed with
brier and azalea, sedge and grass and fern; and above these in their
glory of autumn colors a mingled growth of alder, willow, dogwood and
balm-of-Gilead; mellow sunshine overhead, cool shadows beneath; light
filtered and strained in passing through the ripe leaves like that which
passes through colored windows. The surface of the water is stirred,
perhaps, by whirling water-beetles, or some startled trout, seeking
shelter beneath fallen logs or roots. The falls, too, are quiet; no wind
stirs, and the whole Valley floor is a mosaic of greens and purples,
yellows and reds. Even the rocks seem strangely soft and mellow, as if
they, too, had ripened.

Chapter 9

The Birds

The songs of the Yosemite winds and waterfalls are delightfully enriched
with bird song, especially in the nesting time of spring and early
summer. The most familiar and best known of all is the common robin, who
may be seen every day, hopping about briskly on the meadows and uttering
his cheery, enlivening call. The black-headed grosbeak, too, is here,
with the Bullock oriole, and western tanager, brown song-sparrow, hermit
thrush, the purple finch,--a fine singer, with head and throat of a
rosy-red hue,--several species of warblers and vireos, kinglets,
flycatchers, etc.

But the most wonderful singer of all the birds is the water-ouzel that
dives into foaming rapids and feeds at the bottom, holding on in a
wonderful way, living a charmed life.

Several species of humming-birds are always to be seen, darting and
buzzing among the showy flowers. The little red-bellied nuthatches, the
chickadees, and little brown creepers, threading the furrows of the bark
of the pines, searching for food in the crevices. The large Steller's
jay makes merry in the pine-tops; flocks of beautiful green swallows
skim over the streams, and the noisy Clarke's crow may oftentimes be
seen on the highest points around the Valley; and in