The Wilderness 47 
they shall find, not the heart of the ancient 
wood, but—desolation. 
One fascination of the wilderness then, to 
the lover of the woods, lies in the effort to 
reach that mystical region of which he re- 
ceives intimations, but which ever eludes 
him. If any of the birds are familiar with 
that interior world it is surely the wood- 
peckers and the birds of prey, for unlike sing- 
ing birds they seem seldom aware of man, 
and their habits are modified little, if any, by 
his presence. Savage and untamed, they 
remain part of the wilderness. I had not 
been long in the woods before discovering 
the log-cock, but his nest I never found. 
Perhaps it is within that inner circle which 
may not be entered and where also the 
grouse drums. 
A few songbirds, however, such as the win- 
ter wren, do not seek the settlements of man 
and they, it may be, are the gentler spirits of 
the mysterious heart of the woods. When 
we hear them sing, we are perhaps as near it 
as we ever shall be. An untamable sprite, 
secretive, shy, and sylvan, the winter wren is 
a characteristic bird of the wilderness. How 
far from the clearings he penetrates, who can 
say? Perchance he does not go i at all 
