A LONELY ROAD. 49 



a pasture and a distant farm or two, and the 

 presence of a member of the human race was 

 almost as rare as it was in the forest itself. On 

 one side stretched a pasture with high rail fence ; 

 on the other, a meadow guarded by barbed wire. 

 A traveler over this uninviting way soon left 

 the last house in the village behind, and then 

 the only human dwellings in sight were some 

 deserted farm buildings on a hill a mile or more 

 away. Not a tree offered grateful shade, and 

 not a bush relieved the bare monotony of this 

 No Thoroughfare. 



But it had its full share of feathered resi- 

 dents. Just beyond the last house, a wren, bub- 

 bling over with joy, always poured out his en- 

 chanting little song as I passed. Under the 

 deep grass of the meadow dwelt bobolinks and 

 meadow larks ; from the pasture rose the silver 

 threadlike song of the savanna sparrow and the 

 martial note of the kingbird. Occasionally I 

 had a call from a family of flickers, or golden- 

 wings, from the woods beyond the pasture ; the 

 four young ones naive and imperative in their 

 manners, bowing vehemently, with emphatic 

 " peauk " that seemed to demand the reason of 

 my presence in their world ; while the more ex- 

 perienced elders uttered their low " ka-ka-ka," 

 whether of warning to the young or of pride in 

 their spirit one could only guess. A hard-work- 



