IN QUEST OF A NIGHT-ROOST 199 



Other wood ,birds were numerous also. Cat- 

 birds, grackles, thrashers, cedar waxwings, and 

 even white-throated sparrows were here — the lat- 

 ter having moved their first stage or two out of 

 the more northerly woods. 



Yet save for their call-notes, all were silent, 

 for the autumn stillness had settled upon them. 

 Perhaps it is true that they leave the Northland 

 under the spell of some impelling motive within 

 their breasts — a prompting which they cannot 

 in any manner control or comprehend — but I 

 always like to think of these musicians as leav- 

 ing sadly under the stress of necessity; turning 

 their backs reluctantly upon their dearly-beloved 

 Northland, the land of their homes and the birth- 

 place of their young. The operatic stars of the 

 springtime, the catbird, thrasher, and rose- 

 breasted grosbeak, never in the autumn give the 

 faintest hint of their powers. However, the 

 second or third raters, like the white-throated or 

 the song sparrow, occasionally trill a short song, 

 and of the white-throat it may be said truly that 

 the more dull, cold, and dreary the day, the more 

 prone is he to lift up his voice in that plaintive 

 song which, melting off through the woods, — 

 north of the 49th parallel — is commonly inter- 



