Redruff 57 



ottered a low, soft chuck\e that must have been 

 just as good as the ' sweet nothings ' of another 

 race, for clearly now her heart was won. Won, 

 really, days ago, if only he had known. For full 

 three days she had come at the loud tattoo and 

 coyly admired him from afar, and felt a little 

 piqued that he had not yet found her out, so close 

 at hand. So it was not quite all mischance, 

 perhaps, that that little stamp had caught his 

 ear. But now she meekly bowed her head with 

 sweet, submissive grace — the desert passed, the 

 parch-burnt wanderer found the spring at last. 



Oh, those were bright, glad days in the 

 lovely glen of the unlovely name. The sun 

 was never so bright, and the piney air was 

 balmier sweet than dreams. And that great 

 noble bird came daily on his log, sometimes 

 with her and sometimes quite alone, and 

 drummed for very joy of being alive. But 

 why sometimes alone ? Why not forever with 

 his Brownie bride? Why should she stay to 

 feast and play with him for hours, then take 

 some stealthy chance to slip away and see him 

 no more for hours or till next day, when his 

 martial music from the log announced him rest- 

 less for her quick return? There was a wood- 

 land mystery here he could not clear. Why 



