144 ON THE UPPER ST. JOHN’S. 
negroes, shad-fishers, were just beyond us 
(we had seen them there in the morning, 
wading about the river setting their nets), 
and at the sight of them and of us, I have 
no doubt, the eagle turned away. The boy 
was not peculiar in his notion about the os- 
prey’s scream. Some one else had told me 
that the bird always screamed after catch- 
ing a fish. But I knew better, having seen 
him catch a hundred, more or less, without 
uttering a sound. The safe rule, in such 
cases, is to listen to all you hear, and be- 
lieve it— after you have verified it for 
yourself. 
It was while we were discussing this ques- 
tion, I think, that the boy opened his heart 
to me about my methods of study. He had 
looked through the glass now and then, and 
of course had been astonished at its power. 
“Why,” he said finally, “I never had any 
idea it could be so much fun just to look at 
birds in the way you do!” I liked the turn 
of his phrase. It seemed to say, “ Yes, I be- 
gin to see through it. We are in the same 
boat. This that you call study is only an- 
other kind of sport.” I could have shaken 
hands with him but that he had the oars. 
