262 AN OWL'S HEAD 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 not a 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. 



