IN QUEST OF A NIGHT-ROOST 197 



entirely new bird region. For here in the nar- 

 row strip of woods were the perchers in plenty. 

 At this date most of the birds of the thickets 

 are on their southward journey, and such tree- 

 clumps as this upon the plains are welcome 

 havens offering safety to the weak and timid 

 ones that do not dare to cross the open country 

 by laylight. 



How different was the place now to what it 

 had been on a former visit early in the month of 

 July. Then the noises of the marsh rose in a 

 steady, half-musical din — the peep-peeping of 

 the ducklings, the clatter of the coots, the ridicu- 

 lous songs of the yellow-headed blackbirds and 

 the shrill voices of their young. Then on shore 

 the yellow warbler sang in the thickets, and the 

 song sparrow raised his voice from the willows, 

 a dozen noisy crow pairs stirred up continual 

 trouble, and the heronry out on the wooded 

 point was a busy community. Now things were 

 changed with the season. The place was quiet, 

 at times almost lonely. Wader and Webfoot 

 loitered lazily along shore on the mud and bars, 

 and the woods were still. It was the bird world 

 of autumn, and here it was in the primitive. It 

 was only necessary to convert the two score of 



