94 IN THE DAYS OF AUDUBON 



about the front of the cases, pushing back here and there 

 the falling jars, but with so little success that before the 

 shock was over he had lost nearly all he possessed." 



This curious story illustrates how strong is one's su- 

 preme passion even when death seems impending. Any 

 passion may be stronger than the fear of death, as in the 

 case of the doctor and his gallipots, the latter of which were 

 his priceless treasures, which he felt that the world needed 

 more than any other thing. 



Such were the- forest tales of Victor's early years. 



His love of the forest grew. He studied the language 

 of the birds — he lay as one entranced under the great trees. 



The sunrise brought him birds; in the sunset he watched 

 the wings going home to their nest. The solitudes brought 

 him no sense of loneliness. The world was all alive to him 

 wherever he traveled, slept, and woke. 



In this interesting period of the transition of the forests 

 from savage to civilized life there arose a man who in 

 some respects resembled Audubon, although Audubon 

 seems to have undervalued his work. It was George Cat- 

 lin, who had the genius of painting Indians. Audubon 

 criticises him as " over-painting " the children of the for- 

 ests, as representing them in too picturesque and heroic 

 attitudes. This man felt that to paint Indians was his 

 mission. He wandered the forests of North and South 

 America in the belief that he was doing notable work for 

 the future. 



