THE SICK BOY 127 



"The evening/' lie says, "was beautiful; thousands of 

 swallows were flying above me, and by threes and fours 

 were pitching into the hole in the tree like bees hurrying 

 to their hives. I remained, my head leaning on the tree, 

 listening to the roaring noise within. 



" Next morning I rose early and placed my head against 

 the tree. I stood in this posture some twenty minutes, 

 when suddenly I thought that the great tree was giving 

 way. I sprang from it. The swallows were pouring out 

 of it in a black, continual stream. I listened with amaze- 

 ment to the noise within, which I could compare to noth- 

 ing but the sound of a large wheel revolving under a 

 powerful stream. " 



He estimated the number of birds who roosted in this 

 chimney tree, clinging to the hollow in an unbroken mass, 

 to be nine thousand! 



He related the stories that revealed to Victor the true 

 methods of studying nature. He made of the lonely beech- 

 woods a school. Those were happy weeks that the three 

 united hearts spent in the woods. 



" We must give something to find something," said Mrs. 

 Audubon ; " we must go into silence, if we would have 

 something to say. We must do right, follow the voice of our 

 gifts, and then believe that all that happens to us is for 

 our best good." 



Audubon was a natural story-teller. To hear him tell 

 tales was to live in the scenes again. We can picture him 



