BIRD LIFE IN THE FOREST 231 



It was pleasant in the late afternoon to sit at the feet 

 of these stately red columns this brave company of 

 trees, that are warred against by all the winds of 

 heaven, and look upon the black legions of the forest 

 covering the earth beneath them for miles. High 

 up in the swaying, singing tops a kind of musical 

 talk was audible the starlings' medley of clinking, 

 chattering, wood-sawing, knife-grinding, whistling, and 

 bell-like sounds. Higher still, above the tree-tops, the 

 jackdaws were at their aerial gambols, calling to one 

 another, exulting in the wind. They were not breeding 

 there, but were attracted to the spot by the height of 

 the hill, with its crown of soaring trees. Some strong- 

 flying birds buzzards, kites, vultures, gulls, and many 

 others love to take their exercise far from earth, 

 making a playground of the vast void heaven. The 

 wind -loving jackdaw, even in his freest, gladdest 

 moments, never wholly breaks away from the earth, 

 and for a playground prefers some high, steep place a 

 hill, cliff, spire, or tower where he can perch at inter- 

 vals, and from which he can launch himself, as the 

 impulse takes him, either to soar and float above, or 

 to cast himself down into the airy gulf below. 



Stray herons, too, come to the trees to roost. The 

 great bird could be seen far off, battling with the wind, 

 rising and falling, blown to this side and that, now dis- 

 playing his pale under-surface, and now the slaty blue 

 of his broad, slow-flapping wings. 



As the sun sank nearer to the horizon, the tall 



