VI. 



HINTS BY THE WAY. 



On our way back and forth along the line of 

 oaks and sycamores belonging to the little pris- 

 oners, the little lover, and the gnatcatchers, 

 Mountain Billy and I got a good many hints, he 

 of places to graze, and I of new nests to watch. 



While waiting for the woodpeckers one day 

 I saw a small brownish bird flying busily back 

 and forth to some green weeds. She was joined 

 by her mate, a handsome blue lazuli bunting, 

 even more beautiful than our lovely indigo bunt- 

 ing, and he flew beside her full of life and joy. 

 He lit on the side of a cockle stem, and on the 

 instant caught sight of me. Alas ! he seemed 

 suddenly turned to stone. He held onto that 

 stalk as if his little legs had been bars of iron 

 and I a devouring monster. When he had col- 

 lected his wits enough to fly off, instead of the 

 careless gay flight with which he had come out 

 through the open air, he timidly kept low within 

 the cockle field, making a circuitous way through 

 the high stalks. 



He could be afraid of me if he liked, I thought, 

 — for after a certain amount of suspicion an in- 



