A BIRD TRAGEDY 293 



saving rain. All the men about the camp 9 

 fishermen and guests included, hurried away 

 to fight the enemy so near. Two of them 

 told me of a little tragedy they witnessed, 

 one of the thousands that doubtless took 

 place, " a bird commit suicide," as they 

 phrased it. It darted into a bush that was 

 burning, and dropped dead, as they saw. No 

 doubt the nest was there. 



At last came the deciding rumor which 

 ended my hesitation, destroyed my last hope, 

 and set me to packing my trunk. The tres- 

 tle work of an indispensable railroad bridge 

 had taken fire. Crippling that bridge would 

 cut off retreat by rail, and leave us only the 

 doubtful resources of small boats by which 

 to escape. 



I hastily collected my belongings, for I 

 put not my faith in small boats, waited till a 

 train came up, and thus proved that the road 

 was open, flagged the first train down, and 

 took a day's ride through burning Maine, in 

 smoke so dense we could not see the land- 

 scape, and the sun shone red as blood. The 

 smoke reached out into the ocean, it was 

 said, several hundred miles, and incoming 



