The Chorus of the Forest 



alarm cries that scared his mate out of focus, so 

 I lost a picture. 



Their habit is to build on the earth beneath the 

 protection of a gnarled root or fallen limb, but 

 once I found a nest in a tangle of bushes ten 

 inches above ground. The female slipped from it, 

 hopped away, and trailed a wing that appeared to 

 be broken, and squealed as if wounded. I never 

 saw a killdeer play " 'possum" more naturally. 

 Chewinks build of leaves and coarse grass, and line 

 with finer material. The eggs are white, touched 

 with brown. Aside from that tribal call from 

 which they take their names, they sing a sustained 

 song of several notes, much more promising in the 

 beginning than in the ending, that seems so un- 

 necessarily abrupt as to cause one to wish to enter 

 protest. The song opens with a sweet, clear whis- 

 tle, and then slides off without at all fulfilling the 

 expectation it inspired. But where many musi- 

 cians mount the bushes and sing, accompanied by 

 the endless leaf rustle of their mates, the music 

 forms one of the most pleasing parts of the forest 

 chorus. They mount still higher and sing with 

 more abandon quite late, for birds, in the evening ; 

 or else their notes sound particularly well at that 

 time on account of the peculiarity of their vocal- 

 izing neighbors who are just running scales to clear 

 their voices for the night performance. 



You never can say you really belong in the f or- 

 107 



