170 STORIES OF BIRD LIFE 



its heart was breaking at the thought that summer was 

 over. It was sitting crosswise on the limb and was motion- 

 less except for a slight upward impulse of the body each 

 time it called. 



As it did not see me at first, there was good opportunity 

 to notice its appearance. It was about the size of a robin 

 but was more slender ; its long tail was over half the entire 

 length of the bird. Its legs were short, and its small feet 

 grasped the limb on which it sat, with two toes extending 

 outward in front, and two behind. The bird's back and 

 wings were olive brown, and its under parts were a dull 

 whitish color. The outer tail feathers were black with 

 white tips. Its bill, which appeared to be nearly an inch 

 long, was black above and yellow beneath. 



Soon the bird detected the presence of an intruder. For 

 a few moments it eyed me, as the cuckoo will often do, in 

 a dazed kind of way, all the time slowly raising and lower- 

 ing its long tail ; then swiftly it flew and vanished through 

 the foliage. It could not have gone very far ; for as I went 

 farther along the path, from the distance there came to 

 my ears the faint murmuring, ''Cow, cow, cow,'' of the sad, 

 mysterious bird. 



The cuckoo always leads a mournful, secluded life. If 

 we chance to see it at any time while it is with us, from 

 May to October, it will most probably be observed silently 



