FIRE IN THE WOODS 291 



incredulous when a new song or a hitherto 

 unknown habit is discovered? What we 

 know about bird-life bears no comparison to 

 what we do not know, as any thorough stu- 

 dent of living birds will testify. 



To return to the woodpeckers : the only 

 attempt at a continuous song that I heard 

 from the sapsucker was a droll performance 

 in his always droll tone, a sort of sobbing, 

 retching " yar-rup ! " often repeated with in- 

 drawn breath, as it seemed. At first I thought 

 it a cry of distress, but as the bird seemed 

 to be enjoying himself, I concluded it was 

 only his quaint way of expressing himself. 



Into these delightful days in the log 

 camp came creeping a whisper to chill one's 

 blood. It was that dread word " fire," most 

 fearful of all in the deep woods. Humors 

 grew and thickened ; there was an ungovern- 

 able fire a few miles above, clouds of smoke 

 drifted down and obscured the lake, and fine 

 white ashes fell upon us on the piazza. A 

 hundred men had been sent up to fight it, 

 but it was marching with irresistible force at 

 the rate of fifteen miles an hour, it was said, 

 sweeping all before it. One town was already 



