FAR AND NEAR 



thought of him in the middle of the night, when the 

 violence of the storm kept me from sleep. Imagine 

 this solitary atom in feathers drifting about in the 

 great arctic out-of-doors and managing to survive. 

 I fancied him in one of ray thick spruces, his head 

 under his tiny wing, buffeted by wind and snow, his 

 little black feet clinging to the perch, and wishing 

 that morning would come. 



The fat meat is fuel for him ; it keeps up the 

 supply of animal heat. None of the birds will eat 

 lean meat; they want the clear fat. The jays alight 

 upon it and peck away with great vigor, almost 

 standing on tiptoe to get the proper sweep. The 

 woodpecker uses his head alone in pecking, but 

 the jay's action involves the whole body. Yet his 

 blows are softer, not so sharp and abrupt as those 

 of the woodpecker. Pecking is not exactly his busi- 

 ness. 



He swallows the morsel eagerly, watching all 

 the time lest some enemy surprise him in the act. 

 Indeed, one noticeable thing about all the birds 

 is their nervousness while eating. The chickadee 

 turns that bead-like eye of his in all directions inces- 

 santly, lest something seize him while he is not look- 

 ing. He is not off his guard for a moment. It is 

 almost painful to observe the state of fear in which 

 he lives. He will not keep his place upon the bone 

 longer than a few seconds at a time lest he become 

 a mark for some enemy, — a hawk, a shrike, or a cat. 



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