AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS 55 



crabs wait the deliverance of the full sea and kelp 

 waves its long, dark-olive, ruffle-margined ban- 

 ners. Down among these with the ear close to 

 the smooth, undulating surface you may catch 

 the eerie plaint of the whistling buoy off the 

 channel some miles to landward, telling its lone- 

 liness in recurrent moans. 



Up on the rocks again in the bright sunlight, 

 one finds the land birds numerous, chief among 

 which are the song sparrows. In the secluded 

 peace of the place these also, evidently making 

 their summer home here and nesting in the shrub- 

 bery that is all about, have lost most of their fear 

 of man and will approach very near to gather 

 crumbs about your feet. A small flock of robins 

 goes by, stopping a moment to feed, then taking 

 wing again as if practising for that southward 

 migration which will begin before very long. 

 Olive-sided flycatchers, already working toward 

 the sun, flit to catch flies and light alternately al- 

 most as if playing leapfrog from bush to bush. 

 So far as I have observed, the olive-sided fly- 

 catchers do most of their migrating thus, hippety- 

 hop from perch to perch, with a fly well caught 



