Rail and Reed Bird 165 



waves of sunlit grasses. Then, while moving his 

 pinions only fast enough to keep him in air, he 

 gurgles out his liquid notes in an apparent ecstasy 

 of happiness which it does one good to observe. 



When in the humor, the bobolink is a swift flier, 

 and this is best exemplified when two or more 

 amorous males dash away in pursuit of the modest- 

 looking, brownish yellow female. She may or may 

 not put forth her best speed, but certain it is that 

 she leads her gay-clad gallants through the maddest 

 of mazy frolics. A foot above the grass she darts 

 like a feathered bullet, now shooting upward for a 

 few yards, now stooping low till her soft breast 

 brushes the tender growth ; again, twisting and 

 dodging with amazing facility, to perhaps end a 

 two-hundred-yard chase by a crafty swerve into the 

 grass. Side by side, singing with all their might 

 till their blended voices ring like a peal of merriest 

 laughter, fly the pursuing males. Rising as she 

 rises, stooping when she stoops, following every 

 lightning twist and turn as though it had all been 

 carefully rehearsed, they chase her like a small 

 tornado of song till she gains her shelter. Then 

 they curve away on trembling wings, jingling de- 

 fiance at each other, a defiance which surely con- 

 tains more of mirth than anger, for its fiercest tone 

 is soft and soothing as the gurgle of long-stored 

 wine. 



Few people would recognize this handsome min- 

 strel of the meadow in the brownish yellow reed bird 

 of midsummer and early autumn, whose sole note 

 is a dull, monotonous " Pink-pink ! " as the flocks 

 veer and tack from point to point of the rice marshes. 



