AUTUMN 15 



bers of birds ; not water birds, for the most 

 part, though I steal forward quietly at the 

 last, hoping to surprise a duck or two, or a 

 few sandpipers, as sometimes I have done, 

 but birds of the woods. The water makes a 

 break in the wilderness, a natural rendez- 

 vous, as we may say ; it lets in the sun, also, 

 and attracts insects ; and birds of many 

 kinds seem to enjoy its neighborhood. I do 

 not wonder. To-day I notice first a large 

 flock of white-throats, and a smaller flock of 

 cedar-birds. The latter, when I first dis- 

 cover them, are in the conical tops of the 

 tall spruces, whence they rise into the air 

 one after another, with a peculiar motion, as 

 if a hand had tossed them aloft. They are 

 catching insects, a business at which no bird 

 can be more graceful, I think, though some 

 may have been at it longer and more exclu- 

 sively. Their behavior is suggestive of play 

 rather than of a serious occupation. Near 

 the white-throats are snowbirds, and in the 

 firs by the lakeside chickadees are stirring, 

 among which, to my great satisfaction, I 

 presently hear a few Hudsonian voices. Sick- 

 a-day-day, they call, and soon a little brown- 



