A BIRD-LOVER'S APRIL. 223 
listened every night for a repetition of the yak ; 
but I heard nothing more of it for a month. 
Then it came to my ears again, this time from 
a field between the road and a swamp. Watch- 
ing my opportunity, while the bird was in the 
air, I hastened across the field, and stationed 
myself against a small cedar. He was still 
clicking high overhead, but soon alighted 
silently within twenty yards of where I was 
standing, and commenced to “ bleat,” prefacing 
each yak with a fainter syllable which I had 
never before been near enough to detect. Pres- 
ently he started once more on his skyward 
journey. Up he went, in a large spiral, 
‘higher still and higher” till the cedar cut 
off my view for an instant, after which I could 
not again get my eye upon him. Whether he 
saw me or not I cannot tell, but he dropped to 
the ground some rods away, and did not make 
another ascension, although he continued to 
call irregularly, and appeared to be walking 
about the field. Perhaps by this time the fair 
one for whose benefit all this parade was in- 
tended had come out of the swamp to meet and 
reward her admirer. 
Hoping for a repetition of the same pro- 
gramme on the following night, I invited a 
friend from the city to witness it with me ; one 
who, less fortunate than the ‘“ forest seer,’”’ had 
