A CARGO OF STOWAWAYS. 



"Birds of ocean and of air 

 Hither in a troop repair.' 



— Aristophanes'' "The Birds.'' 



Passing out of the golden sunrise into 

 a world of blue sky and the blue waters 

 of Lake Huron, we regretfully assured 

 ourselves that save for the shadowy gray 

 and white gulls that followed in the wake 

 of our steamer in search of a breakfast, 

 there would be for us no bird reviews 

 so dear to the heart of the ornithologist 

 in a strange country, or not at least until 

 we should have reached the far distant 

 islands in the picturesque River Sault 

 Ste. Mary, so with the inertia of the 

 blank waters about us we prepared to be 

 content, but in this instance, as in many 

 others, we were to learn that conclusions 

 are by no means conclusive, and it was 

 with joy that we could exclaim with 

 Aristophanes : 



"But hark ! the rushing sound of rushing 

 wings 

 Approaches us," 



when before our delighted and surprised 

 eyes alighted a bronze grackle, most ma- 

 jestic of blackbirds, who stepped ofif 

 across the deck with all of the pride of a 

 lately promoted major, doubtless glad 

 enough to find himself on solid footing 

 after the heavy gale of the past night, 

 which has blown him into unknown seas. 

 His rich metallic plumage gleamed in 

 the sunlight as he eyed us inquisitively, 

 the while walking calmly about us pick- 

 ing up the insects of which we seemed to 

 havL an abundant supply aboard. But 

 where is the little wife to whom he 

 was so devoted, and whose labors of 

 incubation he so materially assisted, tak- 

 ing his ''turn" on the nest with clock- 

 like regularity? Rut also he shared with 

 her their ricli song notes which so dc- 

 liglit us during (lie coiu'ting season. 

 lUit oiu" grackle is bv no means the 

 only stowaway we were to carry norlli 

 with us, for all at once tlie air w.'is 

 resonant with cxciUMl "chips" .'iiul 



"zeeps" as the different winged passen- 

 gers arrived. At least half a dozen pine 

 warblers contentedly flitted onto the 

 deck, filling the air with their sweet 

 calls, and dancing about Hke little balls 

 of yellow feathers. And to delight be- 

 yond anything the heart of a bird en- 

 thusiast, far more indeed than can any 

 result of gun, camera or opera glass, 

 was the fact that exhaustion and hun- 

 ger had entirely obliterated from these 

 birds every trace of their dread of the 

 human kind, and they associated with 

 us as fearlessly as tho' to the manor 

 born. Particularly was this true of the 

 pine warblers who hopped about us on 

 the hatchways like chickens, one venture- 

 some little fellow even becoming so fa- 

 miliar as to alight on the toe of my slip- 

 per, and quietly inspect its steel em- 

 broidery with silent curiosity, occasion- 

 ally glancing up at me out of his round, 

 bright eyes as confidentially as though 

 he was a connoisseur in footw^ear. An- 

 other warbler lit on the corner of a book 

 that one of the passengers was holding 

 in her hand. This rare friendliness made 

 us feel that we had not only the bird 

 in the hand, but also the two in the 

 bush, with still a balance in our favor, 

 for we could study their movements as 

 intimately as we desired, but I could 

 hardly keep from rubbing my eyes in 

 amazement, fearing "'twas but a dream," 

 or that my brain has been turned as 

 topsy turvy this morning as was my 

 stomach the night before. But the ex- 

 perience was certainly uniquely delight- 

 ful to say the least. After all of these 

 years of careful peeking and prying to 

 secure a moment's observation of some 

 of these birds, to have tbcni now flit- 

 ling abcnit nic. at ni\ \cm-\- I'cct as it 

 wiTc. in this l';nnili;ir and fricndlx' fash- 



