308 FOREST LIFE IN ACADIE. 



again uttering their wild note of apparent encouragement 

 — " honk ! hawnk ! '' — a sure sign of the winter breaking 

 up for good. 



" Hawnk ! honk ! and for'ard to the Nor'ard, is the trumpet-tone, 

 What goose can lag, or feather flag, or break the goodly cone ? 

 Hawnk ! onward to the cool blue lakes where lie our safe love-bowers ; 

 No stop, no drop of ocean brine, near stool or hassock hoary. 

 Our travelling watchword is " Our mates, our goslings, and our glory ! " 

 Symsonia and Labrador for us are crown'd with flowers. 

 And not a breast on wave shall rest until that heaven is ours. 



Hawnk ! hawnk ! E-e hawnk ! 



Frank Forester. 



Then come a few warm, sunny days, and the expres- 

 sion of Nature's features appears quite altered, and our 

 welcome guests, the early migratory birds, arrive from 

 the more genial southern climes, filling the long-silent 

 woods with animation and melody. And, first, the well- 

 known robin, or rather red-breasted thrush (Turdus 

 migratorius), afiects warm, sunny banks in open woods, 

 whence he springs with a sudden note of alarm as the 

 murderous boy, bent on developing his sporting pro- 

 pensities, creeps with levelled gun over the hill's brow, 

 and seeks to "fill his gaping tuneful bill with blood." 

 Then is heard the whistle of the rusty grackle (Q. ferru- 

 gineus), and the cheerful notes of the song sparrow 

 (F. melodia), and before the end of March the woodcock 

 (M. Americana) may be seen, in the evening, running 

 through the swamps and warm springs by the road-side, 

 every now and then stopping to bore for worms, and from 

 its comparative tameness at this season, becoming an easy 

 prey to the poacher or our friend (?) the robin-shooter. 

 But, alas ! all these pleasant appearances of spring are 

 but transient charms; back comes the frost, and the 

 wintry blast, and the snow-storm ; the gentle advances 



