198 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



was harassing a young bird, it thought, and must give it 

 up. The marsh wrens were straightway up in arms, but 

 held aloof ; the swamp sparrows twittered excitedly, but 

 bravest of all were two cat-birds. They longed to thrash 

 me soundly, and almost came within my reach. As sud- 

 denly as I had started the commotion the birds suppressed 

 it. Since that day I am convinced that sudden thoughts 

 occasionally strike a bird. When most demonstrative, in 

 the abruptest manner, one of the cat-birds took up a posi- 

 tion directly in front of me, but was silent. He remained 

 but a second and then, in a changed voice, chattered im- 

 pressively to all within hearing. 



" What fools we have all been ! " he seemed to say ; 

 " there are no young birds now to worry about " and 

 straightway the gathered crowd dispersed in almost per- 

 fect silence. 



I may be in error, but if actions ever correctly interpret 

 an animal's intention, this story of the cat-bird is literally 

 true. 



It was with a tinge of regret that I finally retraced my 

 steps, or attempted to do so. I found less supporting 

 growth and deeper mud on my return, but reached the 

 higher meadows in reasonable time. As I took a farewell 

 glance at the reed-hidden isle, locating it in fancy, for it 

 was really hidden, a cloud of redwings settled over it for 

 the night, and filled the air with the matchless charm of 

 their flute-like whistle. So what indeed matters it if the 

 katydids do sing, and summer has but six weeks left to 

 it ? These need not prove six weeks of idleness, nor will 

 they lack abundant charm, if happily we know where to 

 look. 



In one secluded corner, where the old worm fence was 

 well-nigh hidden by poison ivy, blackberry briers, and a 

 straggling grape-vine, I caught a glimpse of a gray lizard, 

 one doubtless that I had set at liberty when studying 



