282 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



he warily watched me for a time, then with an 

 explosive whistle that startled every feathered 

 creature within hearing into sudden flight, he 

 sought his dark retreat, chattering and grumbling 

 his protest at being disturbed in his own domain. 

 He seems to be a sort of watchman whose duty 

 it is to keep ward over the inhabitants of the 

 orchard. At any rate, all recognize his signal, 

 for they beat a hasty retreat whenever his alarm 

 is heard. 



A large band of Juncos tarries here during the 

 month of April on their journey north, convoying 

 straggling squads of Sparrows, Vesper, Song, 

 Tree and Savanna. They spend much time on 

 the ground, gleaning seeds from last year's 

 grasses and weeds. They pay little heed to my 

 approach until I am close upon them, when up 

 they spring, the whole flock as a single bird, with 

 a tense sound like the flapping of a sail, their 

 white-bordered tails flashing the alarm to any 

 stragglers that have not perceived the intruder. 



Then in the low trees they sit for a time, very 

 smart in their suits of dark slate and white. 

 Their alarm soon passing, the whole band sets up 

 a chorus of trills and calls which may not be 

 classed as true melody, yet are very pleasant 

 sounds; and, coming from such contented little 

 bodies, they strangely appeal to one's sense of 

 the fitness of things. At least four diff"erent 

 utterances have I noted, one a song of much 

 merit, although simple in the variety of its notes. 



At the alarm the Song Sparrows pump their 

 way to cover in the old brush rick along the 

 walls, where for a brief interval they hide; but 



