Spring on the Kankakee in 



scream. We had crossed the long bridge spanning the river 

 and entered on the road through the woods, when from above 

 our heads came a scream of terror. It was almost humanlike 

 in its agony of fear. Looking up we saw an oriole pursued 

 by a hawk. It was the oriole that was doing the screaming. 

 I took the hawk to be the broadwing, though the identifica- 

 tion was not certain. Its flight was lumbering and heavy, 

 but it seemed to be gaining on its quarry which was straining 

 every feather to escape. We watched the chase with an 

 interest mingled with fear. Suddenly a tree swallow appeared. 

 I don't pretend to say that the swallow had in mind the sav- 

 ing of the oriole, but save it it did, whether the act was one 

 of kindness or of accident. The eye had trouble to follow 

 the swallow's rapid flight. It passed between the oriole and 

 the hawk, staying its course momentarily as though with a set 

 intent. The hawk saw the nearer bird, and reasoning that 

 the nearer must necessarily be the easier prey, it turned 

 aside from its pursuit of the oriole and followed the elusive 

 swallow. The oriole made for shelter, while the swallow, 

 with doubtless an inward chuckle, increased its pace and left 

 the hawk so far in the lurch that it gave up the chase and 

 flew disgustedly back over the woods. 



In the trees along the roadway we found the black- 

 throated blue warblers, the black and white tree-creepers, the 

 yellow warblers, and the fiery redstarts. These last-named 

 warblers, which look like diminutive orioles, were lisping their 

 incessant notes from nearly every tree. We heard the call of 

 the cardinal in the woods. This bird is not common as far 

 north as our Kankakee hunting ground, and one brilliant 

 specimen which flashed across the road and disappeared in 

 the thicket was the only one of its kind that we saw. 



