:::::::::C ALONG THE STREAM OF DEATH m::;:::::: 

 The tent in the Httle shelf of the chlf which we call 

 home is open to receive us. We sleejD, to dream of cool 

 pines and the warble of bluebirds. We wake, to hear 

 the scream of a macaw and the song- of a humming- 

 bird's wino-s. 



WESTERN MOCKINGBIRD SINGING 



