VII 

 FLYCATCHER VAGARIES 



BEYOND the scene of the little parula drama, 

 farther into the woods, was a remainder of 

 the ancient forest which had somehow es- 

 caped the axe, a group of tall, battered old 

 spruces reaching far up towards the sky, with 

 no branches until near the top, and no under- 

 growth whatever. 



As you approach this wood through the 

 old road, birds scatter hurriedly across the 

 open as if all must get safely home before 

 you reach them, making you feel yourself a 

 monster intruding upon their sacred soli- 

 tude. As you go on you hear low whispered 

 notes of warning that hardly break the silence, 

 but proclaim as well as a shout that you are 

 discovered and everybody on guard. You 

 shall see but a fluttering leaf, a flitting wing, 

 or a swaying twig, and you know the woods 

 are peopled with the witching folk named 

 warblers, and that you are under surveillance 

 from all sides. 



