UPON THE TREE-TOP. 17 



fence she went like a bird, I was going to say, 

 but like a boy would perhaps be better. More 

 leisurely and with difficulty I followed, for once 

 on the other side I should be content. I knew 

 the road could not be far off, and through the 

 tangled way we had come I was resolved I would 

 not pass again. 



Well, we ran him down. He was obliging 

 enough to stay in one spot, indifferent to our 

 noisy presence on the earth below, while we 

 studied him on all sides, and decided him to be 

 the olive-sided flycatcher (Contopus borealis). 

 We entered his name and his manners in our 

 notebooks, and we were happy, or at least re- 

 lieved. 



The habit of this bird, as I learned by obser- 

 vation of him afterward, was to sit on the high- 

 est twig of a tree dead at the top, where he 

 could command a view of the whole neighbor- 

 hood, and sing or call by the hour, in a loud, 

 drawling, and rather plaintive tone, somewhat 

 resembling the wood pewee's, though more ani- 

 mated in delivery. I found that the two notes 

 which syllabled themselves to my ear as " see-e 

 he-e-re ! " were prefaced by a low, staccato utter- 

 ance like " quick ! " and all were on the same 

 note of the musical scale. Occasionally, but not 

 often, he made a dash into the air, flycatcher 

 fashion, and once I saw him attempt to drive 



