IMusic of the Wild 



cry with ^\'alt Whitman, "I think I could turn 

 me and hve Avith the animals." 



There is music in the voices of the furred peo- 

 2)le. It may sound like sniffling, grunting, and 

 Animal growling to US, but that is because we fail in our 

 ^''"^ translations. They are searching for food, build- 

 ing their homes, raising their babies, loving and 

 caring for their mates just as do human folk, and 

 when imdisturbed all tlieir notes are of love and 

 tenderness. 



There is music in the water. Can you name 

 a sweeter note than the splash of the black bass 

 so full of abundant life it can not keep beneath 

 the surface? And how fond it is of making this 

 music everywhere except in the immediate vicinity 

 of your boat! You may drag up your muck and 

 moss-ladened anchor until your back aches, and 

 row in ])ursuit until your hands blister; but always 

 you hear the music of the splash and see the widen- 

 ing circles of waves from a leaping bass just a 

 short distance away. 



Where deep water meets those reeds and ruslies 

 that grow beneath the surface, the variety fishermen 

 Water Call "bass-wceds," the children of nature are close 

 Voices together, and creatures of land and water habit 

 find themselves in touch. Such shores are beauti- 

 ful, and in great marshes stretch away endlessly. 

 Tjiving creatures are so numerous you need not 

 linger to study their music; it travels with you. 



^i54 



