BIRDS OF THE AIR. 173 



watching the stream and listening to its flow, we may 

 hear the plaintive cry of the Pewee, a common but re- 

 tiring bird, whose note is familiar to all. He seems to 

 court solitude, though he has no apparent fear in the 

 presence of man ; and his singular note harmonizes with 

 the gloominess of his retreat. He sits for the most part 

 in the shade, catching his insect prey without/ any noise, 

 but after seizing it, resuming his station. This movement 

 is performed in the most graceful manner ; and he often 

 turns a somerset or appears to do so, if the insect at first 

 evades his pursuit. All this is done in silence, for he is 

 no singer. The only sound he utters beside his lament 

 is an occasional clicking chirp. All the day, after short 

 intervals, with a plaintive cadence he modulates the 

 syllables pe-wee. As the male and the female can hardly 

 be distinguished, I have not been able to determine 

 whether this sound is uttered by both sexes or by the 

 male only. 



So plainly expressive of sadness is this remarkable 

 note, that it is difficult to believe the little creature 

 that utters it can be free from sorrow. Certainly he has 

 no congeniality with the sprightly Bobolink. Why is it 

 that two simple sounds in succession can produce an 

 effect on the mind as intense as a solemn strain of arti- 

 ficial music and excite the imagination like the words of 

 poesy ? I never listen to the note of the Pewee without 

 imagining that something is expressed by it that is be- 

 yond our ken ; that it sounds in unison with some one 

 of those infinite chords of intelligence and emotion, which 

 in our dreamy moments bring us undefinable sensations 

 of beauty and mystery and sorrow. Perhaps with the 

 rest of his species, the Pewee represents the fragment 

 of a superior race which, according to the metempsy- 

 chosis, have fallen from their original high position 

 among exalted beings; and this melancholy note is 



