THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 19 



ion. Passing through the woods, on some 

 clear, still morning in March, while the me- 

 tallic ring and tension of winter are still in 

 the earth and air, the silence is suddenly 

 broken by long, resonant hammering upon 

 a dry limb or stub. It is Downy beating a 

 reveille to spring. In the utter stillness and 

 amid the rigid forms we listen with pleasure ; 

 and as it comes to my ear oftener at this sea- 

 son than at any other, I freely exonerate the 

 author of it from the imputation of any gas- 

 tronomic motives, and credit him with a gen- 

 uine musical performance. 



It is to be expected, therefore, that " Yel- 

 low-hammer " will respond to the general 

 tendency, and contribute his part to the 

 spring chorus. His April call is his finest 

 touch, his most musical expression. 



I recall an ancient maple standing sentry 

 to a large sugar-bush, that, year after year, 

 afforded protection to a brood of yellow-ham- 

 mers in its decayed heart. A week or two 

 before the nesting seemed actually to have 

 begun, three or four of these birds might be 

 seen, on almost any bright morning, gambol- 

 ling and courting amid its decayed branches. 

 Sometimes you would hear only a gentle, 

 persuasive cooing, or a quiet, confidential 



