Explore "Westy Martin on the Santa Fe Trail" by Percy Keese Fitzhugh on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was perched low on a near-by tree and its plumage was of the most gorgeous coloring that Westy had ever seen. Its body was plump and quite long, and its tail was dotted like some exquisite jeweled fan.
He sat down on a bowlder and watched it as it warbled a deep-throated trill. Ostensibly, it was doing this for Westy's sole benefit, for when it got through it would look to him as though awaiting applause and start off again, sweeter than before.