152 SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 
then he had never ohatieed to use that particu- 
lar note while under my eye. 
There was a certain tract of country, wood- 
land and pasture, over which I roamed a good 
many times, and which is still clearly mapped 
out in my memory. Here I found my first 
Carolina or mocking wren, who ran in at one 
side of a woodpile and came out at the other as 
I drew near, and who, a day or two afterwards, 
sang so loudly from an oak tree that I ransacked 
it with my eye in search of some large bird, 
and was confounded when finally I discovered 
who the musician really was. Here, every day, 
were to be heard the glorious song of the car- 
dinal grosbeak, the insect-like effort of the blue- 
gray gnat-catcher, and the rigmarole of the yel- 
low - breasted chat. On a wooded hillside, 
where grew a profusion of trailing arbutus, 
pink azalea, and bird-foot violets, the rowdy- 
ish, great-crested flycatchers were screaming in 
the tree-tops. In this same grove I twice saw 
the rare red-bellied woodpecker, who, on both 
occasions, after rapping smartly with his beak, 
turned his head and laid his ear against the 
trunk, evidently listening to see whether his 
alarm had set any grub a-stirring. Near by, 
in an undergrowth, I fell in with a few worm- 
eating warblers. They seemed of a peculiarly 
unsuspicious turn of mind, and certainly wore 
i 
