THE HALCYON IN CANADA 215 



anglers had a similar experience there. But occa- 

 sionally some old fisherman, like a great advocate 

 who loves a difficult case, would set his wits to work 

 and bring into camp an enormous trout taken there. 



I had been told in Quebec that I would not see a 

 bird in the woods, not a feather of any kind. But 

 I knew I should, though they were not numerous. 

 I saw and heard a bird nearly every day, on the tops 

 of the trees about, that I think was one of the cross- 

 bills. The kingfisher was there ahead of us with 

 his loud clicking reel. The osprey was there, too, 

 and I saw him abusing the bald eagle, who had prob- 

 ably just robbed him of a fish. The yellow-rumped 

 warbler I saw, and one of the kinglets was leading 

 its lisping brood about through the spruces. In 

 every opening the white-throated sparrow abounded, 

 striking up his clear sweet whistle, at times so loud 

 and sudden that one's momentary impression was 

 that some farm boy was approaching, or was secreted 

 there behind the logs. Many times, amid those 

 primitive solitudes, I was quite startled by the hu- 

 man tone and quality of this whistle. It is little 

 more than a beginning ; the bird never seems to fin- 

 ish the strain suggested. The Canada jay was there 

 also, very busy about some important private matter. 



One lowery morning, as I was standing in camp, 

 I saw a lot of ducks borne swiftly down by the cur- 

 rent around the bend in the river a few rods above. 

 They saw me at the same instant and turned toward 

 the shore. On hastening up there, I found the old 

 bird rapidly leading her nearly grown brood through 



