CHAPTER XIII.
THE WATER-OUZEL The waterfalls of the Sierra are frequented by only one bird,--the Ouzel or Water Thrush (_Cinclus Mexicanus_, SW.).

He is a singularly joyous and lovable little fellow, about the size of a robin, clad in a plain waterproof suit of bluish gray, with a tinge of chocolate on the head and shoulders.

In form he is about as smoothly plump and compact as a pebble that has been whirled in a pot-hole, the flowing contour of his body being interrupted only by his strong feet and bill, the crisp wing-tips, and the up-slanted wren-like tail.

Among all the countless waterfalls I have met in the course of ten years' exploration in the Sierra, whether among the icy peaks, or warm foot-hills, or in the profound yosemitic canons of the middle region, not one was found without its Ouzel.

No canon is too cold for this little bird, none too lonely, provided it be rich in falling water.