WILD PASTURES 



one of these little birds failed to de- 

 materialize, and I noted him wriggling 

 down under a clump of woodland grass 

 and picked him up. He made pretense 

 of keeping still for a moment, then 

 wriggled in fright in my hand, a 

 pathetically silent, frightened, bright- 

 eyed little chick, mostly down. How 

 his few feathers helped him to make as 

 much of a flight as he had is beyond 

 my conception. He must have mental- 

 scienced himself up into the air and down 

 again. 



Holding him gently, I pursed my lips 

 and drew the air sharply in between lips 

 and teeth. The result was a peculiar 

 squeaking chirp which I have often 

 used on similar occasions with many 

 different birds and almost always with 

 success. Then there came a sudden 

 materialization. Out of the atmosphere, 

 38 



