BIRDS AND BATTLEFIELDS. 185 



Here during the war one of the severest en- 

 gagements took place, and now my orioles 

 were keeping up their mimic contests. 



Time was, the superintendent told me, when 

 the air of the place was vocal with the songs of 

 mocking birds ; but within the last few years 

 they have disappeared entirely, evidently driven 

 away by the English sparrows. " I wouldn't 

 give one mocker for five hundred pesky spar- 

 rows," he declared with indignant emphasis. 

 An idyllic place it would be for mockers, if 

 they could possess it in peace, but they are 

 like most musicians— too highly organized and 

 too sensitive to brook a rival who drowns out 

 their melodious mimicry with his clamor. 



Among the most martial strains in this 

 military atmosphere were the bugle calls of 

 the Carolina wren. Still, I fancy that his 

 notes were more like those of Roderick Dhu 

 callino* his Hig-hland clans to arms than like 

 an American bugle call, and they certamly 

 bore no resemblance to the martial music of 

 fife and drum. The wrens, even so early as 

 the 8th and 9th of May, were feeding their 

 young, which were in some cases perfectly 

 fledged. Still more abundant were the rol- 

 licksome chats, which were just beginning to 

 build their nests. On every bushy mountain- 

 u 



