32 A PHILOSOPHER WITH NATURE 



The bird is easily visible through the leaves as it 

 sits for a moment repeating the well-known call 

 from which it takes its name. A certain fascina- 

 tion attaches to every movement of the cuckoo 

 seen thus at close quarters. The vast wanderings 

 of the bird during the year in two hemispheres ; 

 the shy and solitary habits ; the sudden return in 

 spring from out of the unknown, uttering as it 

 comes the mating cry which resounds everywhere 

 over the plains and woods, the mountains and wastes 

 of a continent ; the remarkable instincts of a crea- 

 ture whose males greatly outnumber the females ; 

 and above all the parasitic habit which has rendered 

 every cuckoo at the beginning of its life the central 

 figure in a tragedy, the details of which while they 

 run counter to the strongest instincts of human 

 nature exceed in grim actuality any possible des- 

 cription of them, have so fixed the cuckoo in the 

 imagination of European peoples that it has left 

 its mark indelibly impressed on their languages and 

 folk-lore. 



The extraordinary restlessness of the bird is 

 apparent. It moves through the branches and 

 thick foliage still uttering its call, for now is the 

 full noon of the mating season ; but still also search- 

 ing for food, for always is the cuckoo hungry. It 

 flits now to a bare stump, and with a pocket-glass 

 you catch a full view of the bird so rarely seen at 

 close quarters. It is a beautiful creature, the 

 glorified and perfected image of the young bird of 

 an earlier stage ; for the young cuckoo in its browner 

 immature plumage has shared many a midnight 

 vigil with you as the long nights of our northern 

 winter have closed down upon it in captivity. 



