Music of the Wild 



for the epicure by fall, when he is fair game in 

 season. 



To look at the cattails and swamp grasses grow- 

 ing five and six feet tall, and the graceful heads 

 of wild rice like feather dusters sweeping the sky 

 and scattering seeds over the water, one would 

 think the food on which the rail fattens would be 

 lost; but when the Almighty works out a design 

 in nature there are no missing parts, and the mind 

 of man must study deeply to comprehend His 

 plans and providences. Wherever the wild rice 

 and seed grass grow for the food of marsh birds, 

 beneath you will find that the Lord has spread a 

 table of stout, overlapping lily pads, upon which 

 He scatters the seed with the winds, and the birds 

 dine royally. They are very fond of wild rice, 

 and some birds eat the seed of the yellow pond lily 

 that ripens in peculiar cone-shaped heads. 



When your boat slips through the mists of 



earliest morning the first note you will hear is the 



The long, shrill "Kuw, kuw, kuw!" of the cinereous 



Herald coot ^t its best the performance of the herald 



of Dawn of ^^ . g only slightly touched with melody, but 



it is a distinctive note that you would miss if you 



did not hear; for it is a part of that first eager, 



throbbing joy that grips your throat and thrills 



your heart over your initial day of freedom for 



the season. 



You will recognize the tribal call, a short, hard 



374 



