174 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



with myriad silver sparks of insect life, pursued 

 listlessly by high-flying legions of terns and 

 gulls, all said that it was so. The crows in fam- 

 ily sixes among the windrows on the hay- 

 meadow; the blackening choke-cherries in the 

 thickets; the yellow, flowery aspect of the ver- 

 dant prairie, now abloom on every hand with 

 golden-rod, yellow bur, prairie clover, blazing 

 star, and staminating grasses ; the gold and green 

 tints from the fields of turning wheat, now filling 

 and doughy in the kernel ; the huge dragon-flies 

 darting by; and above all, the myriad-voiced 

 cricket orchestra, all — all proclaimed it August. 



The only thing of note on the return in the 

 afternoon was a hundred-yard Marathon with 

 eight young sharp-tailed grouse. These young- 

 sters were already almost grown, and they 

 slipped out of the grass beside the trail through 

 the sand-hills and ran ahead along the dusty 

 road. Though I put on my fastest walking pace, 

 they kept the lead for some time, till wearying 

 of the sport, they rose, one by one, and whirred 

 into the shrubbery. 



In the evening at camp, a large concourse of 

 Franklin gulls came along from the the eastward 

 and headed out to the lake. They have evidently 



