204 WAKE-ROBIN 



Yesterday was an October day of rare brightness 

 and warmth. I spent the most of it in a wild, 

 wooded gorge of Rock Creek. A persimmon- tree 

 which stood upon the bank had dropped some of its 

 fruit in the water. As I stood there, half-leg deep, 

 picking them up, a wood duck came flying down 

 the creek and passed over my head. Presently it 

 returned, flying up; then it came back again, and, 

 sweeping low around a bend, prepared to alight in 

 a still, dark reach in the creek which was hidden 

 from my view. As I passed that way about half 

 an hour afterward, the duck started up, uttering its 

 wild alarm note. In the stillness I could hear the 

 whistle of its wings and the splash of the water 

 when it took flight. Near by I saw where a rac- 

 coon had come down to the water for fresh clams, 

 leaving his long, sharp track in the mud and sand. 

 Before I had passed this hidden stretch of water, a 

 pair of those mysterious thrushes, the gray-cheeked, 

 flew up from the ground and perched on a low 

 branch. 



Who can tell how much this duck, this footprint 

 in the sand, and these strange thrushes from the 

 far north, enhanced the interest and charm of the 

 autumn woods? 



Ornithology cannot be satisfactorily learned from 

 the books. The satisfaction is in learning it from 

 nature. One must have an original experience with 

 the birds. The books are only the guide, the invi- 

 tation. Though there remain not another new spe- 

 cies to describe, any young person with health and 



