244 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



almost upon her. Then she sHpped silently into 

 the low limbs of her roof tree, watching me 

 closely but trustfully, as though convinced that 

 my visit was prompted by friendly interest 

 rather than ill-will. At all hours of the day, on 

 every hand, are heard the happy trills and 

 warbles of the Juncos, unmistakable signs of 

 contented hearts filled with the joy of life. 



There are about the clearing three varieties 

 of the Thrush family besides the Robin, all sol- 

 itary and much more retiring in their habits than 

 when seen during migration. The wonderful 

 song of the Veery and the scarcely less charming 

 performance of the Olive-backed are heard dur- 

 ing all hours of the day, floating softly out from 

 the dense shade of the fir thickets, where the 

 gloom of twilight always prevails. 



If one invades the dark depths to call upon 

 these sober-clad recluses, he is greeted by rather 

 harsh call notes, and catches a glimpse of shad- 

 owy forms flitting down the dusky aisles in the 

 half light; and silence reigns for a long time. 

 But if he is able to withstand the attack of 

 hosts of mosquitoes and black flies, and waits 

 patiently and very quietly, the sweet strains 

 will be taken up again, and so near at hand that 

 there will be heard certain preliminary under- 

 tones, not audible except at close range. Hear- 

 ing no sound of the Hermit for the first ten days 

 of my sojourn, I concluded that he had not 

 penetrated so far inland; but at sunset one 

 evening while fishing in Second Pond his song 

 came floating out to me, perfectly voiced, divine, 

 entrancing. After that I was more content in my 

 forest haven. 



