THE: BIRDS OF BATTLE GROVE. 158 
thereabout a beautiful coloring. The swirling waters of 
the mighty artery laved the bank and a big cottonwood 
or amass of shrubbery, undermined by the current 
slid down like a vessel from its ways—and fell into the 
water with a splash. The earth would dissolve in mud 
and go swirling with the waters to add to new forms 
elsewhere. The roots from the large trees thus falling 
were oftentimes held them in tie-up, and protected the 
banks and oftimes changed the channel current, 
At that time the birds of the grove were grouping, 
prepatory to leaving for a warmer clime, yet I made 
note that notwithstanding the proximity of the town and 
disappearance of many trees there, the birds were nu- 
merous and cheerful. Returning again to this little 
village by the Missouri in 1893, after a wandering tour 
of a few years duration, I made further note of the 
birds of Battle Grove. It was the sunset of a boom 
collapse and the inhabitants of the community were 
sleeping off their excitement of previous years. 
Around and about the only hotel stable in the village, 
clustered a flock of pigeons of variegated hues, and an 
old neighbor with kindly heart for beasts and birds had 
a kindred flock. It was beautiful sight in the spring 
and summer mornings to see these birds fly over the 
house tops with the rays of the sun glistening from 
their swift moving wings. | 
From the primitive print shop from whence came the 
Washburn Leader, I sat near a window with composing 
stick in hand—day after day—listening to the four sweet 
notes of the prairie lark as they serenaded from the 
eaves of the building the lonely occupant within. No 
gramophone ever produced sweeter or more clasical mu- 
