Music of the Wild 



and vulture wheel, soar, and sail in high heaven, 

 and the kingfisher dashes in merry rattling flight 

 between the trees, his reflection trailing after him 

 across sunlit pools. The quail leads her chickens 

 from the thicket to drink, and the wild ducks con- 

 verse among the rushes. In it the coon carefully 

 washes the unwary frog caught among the reeds, 

 and the muskrat furrows deeper ripples than the 

 stones. 



The lambs play on the pebbly banks and drink 

 eagerly, the cattle roll grateful eyes as they quench 

 What the their thirst and stand belly-deep for hours lazily 

 Limberlost sw itching their tails to drive away flies. Little 

 children come shouting to wade in the cool waters, 

 and larger ones solemnly sit on the banks with 

 apple-sucker rods, wrapping twine lines and bent 

 pin hooks, supporting their families by their indus- 

 try, if the gravity of their faces be token of the 

 importance of their work. Sweethearts linger 

 beside the stream and surprise themselves with a 

 new wonder they just have discovered their se- 

 cret ; but the Limberlost knows, and promises never 

 to tell. 



Perhaps that is what it chuckles about while 

 slipping around stones, over fallen trees, and whis- 

 pering across beds of black ooze. The Limberlost 

 is a wonderful musician, singing the song of run- 

 ning water throughout its course. Singing that 

 low, somber, sweet little song that you must get 

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