A WINGED CHUM 179 



If Shan had been still before, he became rigid 

 now, hardly daring to turn his head sufficiently to 

 watch the bird. 



He was of good size, as large as a Starling, cin- 

 namon-brown on the head and shading gradually 

 to rufous-brown on the tail, his under parts of 

 white, marked with large round black spots. He 

 cocked his head on one side, regarded the boy in- 

 tently, and, deciding he was harmless, flew away. 



Shan repeated the call and received two more 

 visits from the Wood Thrush. Noting that each 

 time the bird flew away in the same direction, the 

 boy felt himself justified in assuming that the nest 

 must lie that way. He advanced fifty yards and 

 lay down again. 



The Thrush was watching him, for no sooner 

 had Shan lain down on the leaves than he heard, 

 from the same bird, an entirely different note, a 

 sharp — 



''Pit-pit!" sounding as though two stones had 

 been struck together. 



Shan did not move. Only, after about ten 

 minutes of absolute movelessness, he whistled the 

 ' * Come to me ! " call again. 



The Thrush, however, was suspicious, and con- 

 tinued to "Pit-pit!" at intervals. Little by little. 



