HOME OF THE HUMMING BIRDS. 113 



screen that hid the spot from outside observation. 

 From that yellow drapery about my couch emanated 

 a subtle fragrance, perfuming the air for hundreds 

 of yards around. Bees buzzed about it, multitudes 

 of insects hovered in front of it ; but, more than this, 

 scores of humming birds played around and behind 

 it, darting like lightning through the yellow flowers 

 and the misty veil of the waterfall. 



In the woods everywhere at this season one's 

 senses are delighted with beautiful sights, and above 

 all with delicious odors. Looking in any direction, I 

 could see the brilliant yellow masses of the cog wood 

 and green heart, trees large as maples, mere masses of 

 golden bloom. Many another tree was in blossom, 

 the buds were springing, and every sense assured me 

 that it was as surely springtime here as it was then 

 in New England. 



I heard the whirr of wings, and saw, dancing 

 above the still waters, with seemingly aimless intent, 

 a whitethroat humming bird. It was first above my 

 pool, then under the spray of the fall, occasionally 

 dipping into the water, but never once alighting. It 

 may have been seeking food, w^hile thus indulging in 

 fantastic flight ; but this strange dance it always per- 

 forms in somber places, chiefly in the morning and 

 evening twilight. 



Never were evolutions more eccentric or delight- 

 ful : down it dropped from the gloom of vinehung 

 tree, halted an instant on suspended wing, dashed 

 sidewise, fell, rose again, dipped its beak, while still 

 on fluttering wings, into the water, then suddenly 



