THE WOODPECKER. 231 



wanting now but a nuptial chant (Hymen ! O Hymeneae !) It is not 

 the woodpecker's fault if Nature has denied to his genius the muse of 

 melody. At least, in his harsh voice one cannot mistake the im- 

 passioned accents of the heart. 



May they be happy ! May a young and amiable generation 

 spring into life, and mature under their eyes ! Birds of prey shall 

 not easily penetrate here. Only grant that the serpent, the frightful 

 black serpent, may never visit this nest ! Oh, that the child's rough 

 hand may not cruelly crush its sweet hope ! And, above all, may 

 the ornithologist, the friend of birds, keep afar from this spot ! 



If persevering toil, ardent love of family, heroic defence of liberty, 

 could impose respect and arrest the cruel hand of man, no sportsman 

 would touch this noble bird. A young naturalist, who smothered 

 one in order to impale it, has told me that he sickened of the brutal 

 struggle, and suffered a keen remorse ; it seemed to him as if he had 

 committed an assassination. 



Wilson appears to have felt an analogous impression. " The first 

 time," says he, " that I observed this bird, in North Carolina, I 

 wounded him slightly in the wing, and when I caught him he gave 

 a cry exactly like an infant's, but so loud and lamentable that my 

 frightened horse nearly threw me off. I earned him to Wilmington : 

 in passing through the streets, the bird's prolonged cries drew to the 

 doors and windows a crowd of people, especially of women, filled with 

 alarm. I continued my route, and, on entering the court of the 

 hotel, met the master of the house and a crowd of people, alarmed 

 at what they heard. Judge how this alarm increased when I asked 

 for what was needed both by my child and myself. The master 

 remained pale and stupid, and the others were dumb with astonish- 

 ment. After having amused myself at their expense for a minute 

 or two, I revealed my woodpecker, and a burst of universal laughter 

 echoed around. I ascended with it to my chamber, where I left it 

 while I paid attention to my horse's wants. I returned at the end 

 of an hour, and, on opening the door, heard anew the same terrible 

 cry, which this time appeared to originate in grief at being discovered 



