THE RUBY CROWNED KINGLET.

We were hiking up the Paradie Trail in search of trouble -- that is in search of the trouble that had put the Paradise telephone line out of service -- when we encountered a great number of these tiny birds. They seemed to be everywhere about us darting in and out among the snow covered branches of the firs and hemlocks, hardly resting a moment before they were off to some other plant. In the silent woods with even our footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of snow their chirping cal was plainly audible and when they could not be seen their notes were evidence of their presence. The snowstorm did not bother them in the least, in fact they seemed to be invigorated by it and as far as our presence was concerned they completely ignored us. And so we had ample opportunity to get a good "close up" of the Ruby Crowned Kinglet.

He inhabits the heavy timber, chickadee-like, in small flocks and his size, for his is no larger than a house wren is dwarfed by comparison with the timber. Perhaps the feature by which he can be readily identified is the small spot of red feathers on top of his head which he flashes into view now and then. This, in contrast with his dull yellow-green color and small size enables one to easily identify him.

-- AND THE WATER OUZEL.

On the same trip referred to above, as we were crossing the Nisqually river in the teeth of the gale that swept down the river, we saw two of our old friends -- Water Ouzels. There they were flying about in the snow shouting their rattling call and now and then dropping to the snow bank that edged the rushing water of the Nisqually to bob and curtsey there just as we had seen them bob and curtesy on the rocks in the summertime. A hardy little winter bird, the Water Ouzel, who loves the streams too well to leave -- even in such a snowstorm as this.

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