262 AN OWL BafEAD HOLIDAY. 
One of these noisy fellows served me an ex- 
cellent turn. It was the last day of my visit, 
and I had just taken my farewell look at the 
enchanting prospect from the summit, when I 
heard the lisp of a brown creeper. This was 
the first of his kind that I had seen here, and I 
stopped immediately to watch him, in hopes he 
would sing. Creeper-like he tried one tree after 
another in quick succession, till at last, while he 
was exploring a dead spruce which had toppled 
half-way to the ground, a hawk screamed loudly 
overhead. Instantly the little creature flattened 
himself against the trunk, spreading his wings 
to their very utmost and ducking his head until, 
though I had been all the while eying his mo-. 
tions through a glass at the distance of only a 
few rods, it was almost impossible to believe 
that yonder tiny brown fleck upon the bark was 
really a bird and nota lichen. He remained in 
this posture for perhaps a minute, only putting 
up his head two or three times to peer cautiously — 
round.. Unless I misjudged him, he did not 
discriminate between the screech of the hawk 
and the ank, ank of a nuthatch, which followed 
it; and this, with an indefinable something in 
his manner, made me suspect him of being a 
young bird. Young or old, however, he had 
learned one lesson well, at all events, one which 
I hoped would keep him out of the talons of his 
enemies for long days to come. 
