MOCKINGBIRD. I89 



guardians of their brood. Their most insidious and deadly 

 enemies, however, are reptiles, particularly the black snake, 

 who spares neither the eggs nor young. As soon as his fatal 

 approach is discovered by the male, he darts upon him without 

 hesitation, eludes his bite, and striking him about the head, 

 and particularly the eyes, where most vulnerable, he soon suc- 

 ceeds in causing him to retreat, and by redoubling his blows, 

 in spite of all pretended fascination, the wily monster often 

 falls a victim to his temerity ; and the heroic bird, leaving his 

 enemy dead on the field he provoked, mounts on the bush 

 above his affectionate mate and brood, and in token of victory 

 celebrates with his loudest song. 



The Mocking Bird, like the Nightingale, is destitute of bril- 

 liant plumage ; but his form is beautiful, delicate, and symmet- 

 rical in its proportions. His motions are easy, rapid, and 

 graceful, perpetually animated with a playful caprice and a 

 look that appears full of shrewdness and intelligence. He 

 listens with silent attention to each passing sound, treasures up 

 lessons from everything vocal, and is capable of imitating with 

 exactness, both in measure and accent, the notes of all the 

 feathered race. And however wild and discordant the tones 

 and calls may be, he contrives, with an Orphean talent pecu- 

 liarly his own, to infuse into them that sweetness of expression 

 and harmonious modulation which characterize this inimi- 

 table and wonderful composer. With the dawn of morning, 

 while yet the sun lingers below the blushing horizon, our sub- 

 lime songster, in his native wilds, mounted on the topmost 

 branch of a tall bush or tree in the forest, pours out his admi- 

 rable song, which, amidst the multitude of notes from all the 

 warbling host, still rises pre-eminent, so that his solo is heard 

 alone, and all the rest of the musical choir appear employed in 

 mere accompaniments to this grand actor in the sublime opera 

 of Nature. Nor is his talent confined to imitation ; his native 

 notes are also bold, full, and perpetually varied, consisting of 

 short expressions of a few variable syllables, interspersed with 

 imitations and uttered with great emphasis and volubility, 

 sometimes for half an hour at a time, with undiminished ardor. 

 These native strains bear a considerable resemblance to those 



