52 THE BIRDS ABOUT Us. 



ning of the century, it was almost as abundant as 

 the cat-bird. Now it is rare. The reason for this 

 change of habit is difficult to determine, unless it be 

 that every one that appears is chased away or capt- 

 ured. 



The following is W. L. Baily's admirable account 

 of this strange bird : 



" The air is soft and balmy, and possessed of a peculiar freshness 

 which is characteristic of a pine forest. Nature here seems to have 

 profusely spread her charms on every side, pointing us at each step 

 to some new object of admiration. The mellow whistle of the Red- 

 bird is heard overhead, together with the call of the Jay, the soft 

 warbling of the Vireos, the mewing of the Cat-bird, the loud, clear 

 melody of the Wood-robin, the shrill cry of the Woodpecker, and 

 many other voices equally attractive. As we advance into the thicket 

 the confusion of sounds increases ; every song with which we are 

 familiar, and many more, seem suddenly let loose upon the ear ; and 

 last, though it is broad day, we are surprised to hear the cry of the 

 Whip-poor-will. This exciting our curiosity, we naturally look 

 around to discover the cause of so strange an occurrence ; but still 

 sounds the clear cry of Whip-poor-will ! whip-poor-will !' When 

 suddenly there darts up from a low bush near by a fine Mocking- 

 bird, and settling on a branch within our view, continues his varied 

 melody. The secret is at once explained ; the little mimic before 

 us has been the sole cause of our surprise, and there he sits flirting 

 his long tail from side to side with an air of perfect satisfaction, ex- 

 panding his wings and stretching his neck in all directions, while he 

 calls out with much animation, ' Bob- White ! Bob-White !' and be- 

 fore poor Bob- White has time to scamper to his covey, the screams 

 of the Pigeon-hawk are heard wild and clear; then immediately his 

 voice falls into some soft and tender warble, gradually rising higher 

 and higher until we recognize, among a host of others, the clear and 

 ringing melody of the Brown Thrush, set off with the gentler tones 

 of the Robin and Bluebird, occasionally interspersed with some fine, 

 pleasing original notes. We stand and listen with delight to this 

 grand concert of Nature's great musician, his voice ever changing, 

 ever sweet, until the twilight unconsciously steals upon us ; still the 

 serenade continues. The pale moon glimmers in the eastern sky, 



