52 The Birds of Albany County 



danger in which they had been. I then pounded the snake 

 to death and threw it far away. 



What a peace suddenly fell over that bird household! 

 The parents ceased their cries and with little purring notes of 

 gratitude returned to the nest, although I stood near at hand. 

 I don't believe birds can count and, as the nestling that had 

 gone down the throat of the snake was not missed, the parents, 

 finding order apparently restored, resumed their ordinary 

 duties as though nothing tragic had occurred. 



I visited that home several times afterward and had the 

 satisfaction of seeing the remaining young birds grow up in 

 safety. I always imagined I was persona grata on their 

 threshold, for no matter how near I approached, the parents 

 showed no concern. And sometimes the male would mount 

 a low branch and give me a ringing song of welcome. The 

 female always remained as demure as all female birds, but 

 her glance and manner often seemed to say, "You're all right 

 brother; our whole family will always love you." 



The following year I rescued another family of Oven-birds 

 from exactly the same species of enemy, the Milk Snake. It 

 was in a different wood, but the circumstances and the 

 sentiment were the same. It is not strange, therefore, that 

 no matter how far I travel from those early scenes, I always 

 feel that I receive a royal welcome from the Oven-birds when 

 I pay a visit to their sylvan haunts. 



It will be observed that in my representation of Oven-bird's 

 common call, or song, I seem to have paraphrased the 

 description, commonly regarded as classic, given many 

 years ago by Mr. John Burroughs. He puts the song as 

 the repetition of the word teacher, but as my ear has caught 



