Music of the Wild 



forest his musicians followed his lead unceasingly, 

 their notes rising and falling in volume, and they 

 even played in flight. I could not see how they 

 flew, and fiddled on the wingshields at the same 

 time, but repeatedly I saw them do it. 



Watching above me to try to learn how this 

 music of flight was made, I forgot the locusts and 

 began considering the roof of the forest. The 

 branches lapped and interlaced so closely that I 

 felt, if I had power to walk inverted like a fly, I 

 could cross them as a floor. There was constant 

 music up there, and the dominant note was the 

 crow's, while the sweetest was the w f ood pe\vee's. 

 There were many places where in the stout branch- 

 ing of tall trees the crows had built a sitting-room 

 of a bushel of coarse twigs and lined it with finer 

 material. Now all the families had moved out and 

 gone picnicking among the trees. 



None of them evinced retiring dispositions. 



They appeared alike at that height, and all I could 



A Crow tell of them was that they were crows. Their mu- 



ol sic was constant and, where undisturbed by our 



presence, of most interesting character. I could 



distinguish three distinct calls. They frequently 



uttered a gutteral croak that seemed to translate 



"All right!" Then there was a sharp, vehement 



"Caw! Caw! Caw!" warning those of the family 



farther away of the fact that there was something 



unusual in the forest. It was used at a time and 



48 



