A ME RICA N ORNITHO LOGY. 



149 



One of these blue birds is 

 watching me now, ahnost with 

 a fellow feeling and understand- 

 ing it seems, for he is first on 

 one side and then on the other, 

 hopping from the swelling tip 

 of an alder bush to the ground, 

 running across the path behind 

 me, and then flying on with a 

 well modulated "I, I say, look 

 at this," to a decayed log a rod 

 or so in advance. Surely he 



knows that I am out to greet the newcomers for 

 whom he has been watching these weeks past, and 

 just as surely he realizes that he is able to give me 

 an abundance of interesting information. What a 

 companionable little fellow he is, and how plainly de- 

 sirous of congenial company. I wonder if he has a mate, or if he has 

 not yet begun his courting. Perhaps he has daringly come on ahead 

 of all the rest, and is lonely and glad even for a human being to com- 

 panion with. Or perhaps this warm, wondrous thrill of the awaken- 

 ing is in his heart, as it is in mine, and he feels nothing but love and 

 fellowship for all things around. 



As I approach nearer, his head cocks on one side and his tail bobs up 

 genially, and only when I am within a few feet does he hop to a low 

 branch, scarcely an arm's length away. Nor does this seem a move- 

 ment of fear or distrust, but rather as a stepping aside for me to look 

 at something which he has to show. 



One end of the log rests across a heap of stones, and upon the stones 

 the sun is lying warm. At first I see only a small green lizard which 

 has partially crawled from beneath the bark and is now lying in the 

 sunshine, its eyes blinking in the very ecstacy of contentment. It is 

 another of the creatures which the sun is awakening. 



But plainly it is not the lizard that attracts my friend's attention. He 

 is raising and lowering his wings with ill-suppressed eagerness, and 

 hopping from one end of the branch to the other. And he is not look- 

 ing at the log at all, but at the stones beyond. "There it is," he 

 plainly chirps, "there, there, there." 



Over the warm stones a dozen or more tiny forms are twisting about 

 joyously. At first they appear to be worms, though unusually active; 

 but a closer inspection reveals them as snakes. They are not more 

 than three or four inches in length, and too small to determine the 



