228 



The Wounded Redstart. 



In a later letter to Mr. Alexander Law- 

 son, written from Nashville, he refers more 

 particularly to one of these pigeon roosts, 

 or breeding places which, he says, con- 

 tinued for three miles, and from informa- 

 tion exceeded in length more than forty 

 miles. "The timbers," he says, "were 

 chiefly beech — every tree loaded with 

 nests, and I counted in different places 

 more than ninety nests in a single tree." 



From Nashville Wilson traveled through 

 the wilderness on horseback to Natchez, 

 Mississippi Territory, safely overcoming 

 every obstacle, but undergoing very severe 

 exposure, and in June he reached New 

 Orleans and sailed thence to New York, 

 and again entered Philadelphia after a 

 long and arduous but fairly successful 

 journey, during which he experienced 

 many difificulties from the season and cli- 

 mate, the wildness of the paths and from a 

 sickness which nearly proved fatal, but 

 which his good constitution, and the simple 

 prescription of an Indian bore him safely 

 through. He nevertheless procured much 

 information and new materials for his work, 

 besides keeping up an extensive corre- 

 spondence with his friends, and regularly 

 entering in a diary the events of each day. 

 From this diary, and the corresponding 

 account of Audubon, we learn that these 

 ornithologists first met at Louisville, and 

 have to regret, says his biographer, that 

 their intimacy and acquaintance had not 

 a longer existence. Before this meeting 

 neither seemed to have had any idea of the 

 other's existence, though both were eagerly 



pursuing the same object, but in spite of 

 the kindred nature of their pursuits their 

 natures were too diverse for the existence 

 of any bonds of sympathy. Audubon had 

 already at that time a better collection of 

 birds than Wilson, his drawings were bet- 

 ter, and yet he was to all appearance a 

 well-to-do storekeeper pursuing ornithology 

 only as an amateur for the diversion of his 

 leisure, admitting that he had never thought 

 of publishing the results of his labors. He 

 received Wilson with easy but indifferent 

 courtesy and politeness, and made himself 

 helpful to him in small ways, but he neither 

 felt nor made any display of enthusiasm, 

 and Wilson's sensitive nature appears to 

 have been wounded to the quick, while on 

 Audubon his visit appears to have made 

 but little impression. 



The following entries in Wilson's diary 

 of his avocations in Louisville display a 

 measure of reserve, which serves to indi- 

 cate the feelings they were intended to 

 draw a veil over: 



"March 19th. Rambling round the town 

 with my gun. Examined Mr. 's draw- 

 ings in crayon — very good. Saw two new 

 birds he had — both Motacillce. 



"■ March 20th. Set out this afternoon 

 with the gun; killed nothing new. People 

 in taverns here devour their meals. Many 

 shopkeepers board in taverns — also boat- 

 men, land speculators, merchants, etc. JVo 

 naturalist to keep me company. And appar- 

 ently getting no subscriptions in Louisville 

 he closes with the bitter remark, " Science 

 and literature has not a friend in this place." 



THE WOUNDED REDSTART. 



THERE are certain days in every sea- 

 son of the year so exceedingly 

 beautiful that we feel it is a sin to stay in 

 the house, and to ignore the wind and the 

 sunshine, and the perfume of flowers where 

 they come laughing in at the windows to 



us as it were seems like giving the cold 

 shoulder to our best friends. 



One of these perfect days occurred in 

 the latter part of August, so I put on my 

 things and prepared to sally forth. 



As I passed out of the house my atten- 



