Music of the Wild 



A heron's voice is at its best when he calls his 



mate; but even then those who all their lives have 



The Bat- studied bird notes under stress of different emo- 



tie-cryof tj O ns have difficulty in deciding whether he says, 



the Heron * . o. 



Come, my love; this spot is propitious. Share a 

 morning treat with your dearest!" or, "Better keep 

 away, old skin and bones ; there 's danger around 

 this frog pond!" But what he says when he de- 

 fends his mate and young from intruders there is 

 no trouble in understanding, and he emphasizes it 

 with beak, wings, and feet. That is the hoarse, 

 rasping battle-cry of the heron, and if you do not 

 Avant to fight you had better run. 



Water carries sound so clearly and for such dis- 

 tances the woodpeckers and flickers that choose 

 The marsh drums for their performances outdo their 

 Drum- f e u ow musicians of the land. Every hollow, vine- 

 the Marsh covered tree stump of the marsh is a big bassdrum, 

 and on it these drummers perform all day with 

 never-ending vigor, while the breast of the water 

 serves as their sounding-board. When they have 

 drummed until they are tired clinging to their in- 

 struments, they lean back and cry, "Kerr, kerr, 

 kerr!" like the wailing notes of a fife, and then 

 return to their drumming. 



To these performers of the day and partly of 



the night now are added other musicians, wholly 



nocturnal, that have arrived from the forest. 



When dusk creeps from the deep wood and in- 



418 



