BLUE JAY. T5 
flock of them on Black Mountain. From the top 
of the mountain the wilderness looked like a sea 
of forest-clad hills, with an occasional reef out- 
lined by surf, for the largest lakes seemed like 
tracery in the vast expanse of forest. The im- 
pressive stillness was broken only by the rare 
eries of a pair of hawks that circled over the 
mountain; for the most part they soared, silent as 
the wilderness below them. Coming down into 
the forest primeval, where the majestic hemlocks 
towered straight toward the sky, and their mas- 
sive knotted roots bound down the granite bowl- 
ders that showed on the mountain side—there we 
found the blue jays in their home. A flock of 
them lived together, feeding on wild berries and 
beechnuts, sporting among the ferns and mosses, 
and drinking from the brook that babbled along 
near the trail. What a home our handsome birds 
had chosen! But the memory of the spot is 
dreary. Unmoved by the beauty of the scene, to 
which the blue jays gave color and life; unawed 
by the benedicite of the hemlocks ; betraying the 
trust of the friendly birds, the boy of the party 
crept into their very home and shot down one 
after another of the family as they stood resistless 
before him. To-day the pitiful lament of the 
brave old birds haunts me, for, forgetting to fear 
for themselves, those that were left flew about in 
wild distress, and their cries of almost human 
suffering reached us long after we had left the 
desecrated spot. 
