166 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



Just at sunset we waded back and stopped at the 

 little arm of the swamp where we had first heard the 

 bittern. Suddenly from the sedges came a scolding 

 little song that sounded like "Chop, chip-chop, 

 chp'p'p'pV and we caught the merest glimpse of a 

 tiny bird with a tip-tilted tail and brown back whose 

 undersides seemed yellowish. It was none other than 

 the rare short-billed marsh wren, next to the smallest 

 of our Eastern birds, only the hummingbird being 

 tinier. Neither of us had ever seen this marsh wren 

 before, and we tramped back three long miles to 

 town with a new bird, a new nest, and a new note 

 to our credit in our out-of-doors account. 



That night over a good dinner we were joined by 

 the other two of our Four who for many happy years 

 have hunted together. Just at dawn the next day, 

 we all stole out of the sleeping inn and along the 

 silent village streets, sweet with the scent of lilacs. 

 Right in front of the town hall we found the first 

 nest of the day. Cunningly hidden in the crotch 

 of a sugar maple, just over the heads of hundreds 

 of unseeing passers-by, a robin had brooded day by 

 day over four eggs whose heavenly blue made a jewel- 

 casket of her mud nest. I hope that the brave 

 silent bird raised her babies and sent them out to 

 add to the world 's store of music and beauty. 



Beyond the village we dragged a meadow. A long 

 cord was tied to the ankles of two of us, and each 

 walked away from the other until it was taut and then 

 marched slowly through the fields. The moving line 

 just swished the top of the long grass and flushed 



