110 BIRD-SONGS ABOUT WORCESTER. 



in their neighborhood. On the way up, 

 too, I was encouraged by hearing a whistle 

 which seemed to answer Burroughs's de- 

 scription of the whistle of the hermit. 

 Of course the return down the mountain 

 would furnish the true test, as it would 

 then be just the time of day when all the 

 thrushes of this family are most likely to 

 sing. Accordingly, about half-past six, I 

 slowly began my descent down the bridle- 

 path. The oven-birds seemed never to tire 

 of singing, though I was, in my impatience, 

 almost tired of hearing them. 



I had now gone nearly half-way down, 

 and was getting pretty thoroughly dis- 

 couraged, for I had little hope of hearing 

 them in the lower zone of the mountain. 

 Suddenly, away off to the eastward, but 

 brought to my ears with perfect clearness 

 by the strong east wind, a song arose once, 

 twice, and yet again, until I finally had 

 heard at least eight or ten strains. Then 

 the angry cry of a blue-jay was heard in 

 the same direction, and the singing ceased. 

 I waited half an hour to hear it again, but 



