CHICKAMAUGA. 67 



the slightest suggestion of attempting to 

 make a show. A field sparrow sang from 

 the border of the grass land at the same 

 moment. I wished he could have refrained. 

 Nothing shall induce me to say a word 

 against him ; but there are times when one 

 would rather be spared even the opportunity 

 for a comparison. 



As I went up the hill under the tall trees, 

 largely yellow pines, a crested flycatcher 

 stood at the tip of one of the tallest of them, 

 screaming like a bird of war ; and further 

 on was a red-cockaded woodpecker, flitting 

 restlessly from trunk to trunk, its flight 

 marked with a musical woodpeckerish wing- 

 beat, like the downy's purr, but louder. 

 I had never seen the bird before except in 

 the pine-lands of Florida, nor did I see it 

 afterward except on this same hill, at a sec- 

 ond visit. It is a congener of the downy 

 and the hairy, ranking between them in size, 

 and by way of distinction wears a big white 

 patch, an ear-muff, one might say, on the 

 side of its head. Its habitat is strictly 

 southern, so that its name, Dryobates lore- 

 alls^ though easily rememberable, seems but 

 moderately felicitous. 



