A VOYAGE TO HEARD' S ISLAND. 147 



up stream and another down towards Carlisle 

 bridge. The syllables " pung-chuck " repeated 

 three or four times give an idea of this sound 

 when it is made at a distance. After dark, as 

 we lingered by our fire, we heard the " quauk " 

 of a night heron flying down stream. I slept as 

 well that night in my narrow mummy case as I 

 should have on my broad spring bed at home. 



To see a sunrise from the top of Ball's Hill on 

 a warm still day in April is worth an eighteen- 

 mile paddle. There were bitterns pumping, 

 crows cawing, mourning doves cooing, grouse 

 and woodpeckers drumming, blackbirds creaking, 

 kingfishers rattling, and a throng of thrushes, 

 warblers, and finches singing in that early mass 

 at St. Ann's. The sun came up behind Bedford 

 towers, cast golden rays upon Great Meadow 

 and passed into gray clouds. Although we ex- 

 pected rain we spent half the forenoon coasting 

 along Carlisle shore and wandering through the 

 pine woods. I found a snug little screech owl 

 in a hole in an apple-tree and tried to induce 

 him to come out. No pounding on the tree nor 

 gentle poking of him produced any effect. He 

 was as placid as though made of the dead leaves 

 and decayed wood which his coloring most sug- 

 gested. A towhee bunting and his mate were 

 scratching in the dry leaves by the river side. 

 They, like the fox sparrows, seem to work both 

 feet at once in scratching. It was a proud sight 



