262 SOLITARY THE THRUSH. 



through the charming wood paths consisted of 

 our host as protector on the return in the dark, 

 the big dog — his mistress's body-guard — his 

 mistress, an enthusiastic bird-lover, and myself. 



The road was all the way through the woods, 

 then lovely with the glow of the western sun, 

 which reached far under the branches, gilded 

 the trunks of the trees, and made a fresh pic- 

 ture at every turn. At the further side of the 

 woods was a grass-covered hill which we as- 

 cended, eager to treat our eyes to the sunset, 

 and our ears to the hermit songs. The sun went 

 down serenely, without a cloud to reflect his 

 glory, but the whole pleasant country at our feet 

 was illuminated by his parting rays. 



And hark I a hermit began "air-o-ee ! " In- 

 stantly everything else was forgotten, although 

 the bird was far away. 



"He will come nearer," whispered my com- 

 rade, and we waited in silence. Several singers 

 were within hearing, but all at a tantalizing re- 

 moteness that allowed us to hear the louder 

 notes, and constantly to realize what we were 

 losing. 



We lingered, loath to abandon hope, till the 

 deepening shadows reminded us of the woods to 

 be passed through; but no bird came nearer 

 than that maddening distance. In despair we 

 turned our faces homeward at last; several 



