218 HOMING WITH THE BIRDS 



moult, when other birds are shy, wild, and for 

 the most part invisible, one still hears the notes 

 of the wren; and this is quite remarkable, for 

 other song birds are almost voiceless when moult- 

 ing, sluggish of flight, and appear as if they enjoy 

 life less than at any other time. Dressed in his 

 new coat, for a week or ten days before his winter 

 tour to the South he returns to the haunts of 

 spring, and sings almost as continuously as he 

 did at that time. His call note is a wiry wisp of 

 sound, no more reproducible than his song. In 

 case his nest and young are interfered with he is a 

 valiant little fighter, but what he says can be de- 

 scribed no better than as angry chatter. He is 

 profane on provocation, and, pushed to the limit, 

 swears like the proverbial sailor. He does not 

 hesitate to make physical attack on anyone dis- 

 turbing his nest or mate, flying like a small fury 

 at the head and eyes of a human, who must appear 

 bigger to a wren than an elephant does to us. 



No bird of our ornithology is more beloved in the 

 North than the bluebird. In company with the 

 martin or sometimes a day or two before or very 

 shortly after, the bluebird is one of the first to put 

 in an appearance in the earliest spring. Poets 

 have written much concerning the gorgeous blue 

 of his back, the sweet, friendly twitter of his home- 

 coming, the cheerfulness of his disposition, but no 

 one has very much to say concerning his song. 

 The first we hear of the bluebird in the spring is a 



