204 WAKE-ROBIN 
Yesterday was an October day of rare brightness 
and warmth. I spent the most of it in a wild, 
wooded gorge of Rock Creek. A persimmon-tree 
which stood upon the bank had dropped some of its 
fruit in the water. As I stood there, half-leg deep, 
picking them up, a wood duck came flying down 
the creek and passed over my head. Presently it 
returned, flying up; then it came back again, and, 
sweeping low around a bend, prepared to alight in 
a still, dark reach in the creek which was hidden 
from my view. As I passed that way about half 
an hour afterward, the duck started up, uttering its 
wild alarm note. In the stillness I could hear the 
whistle of its wings and the splash of the water 
when it took flight. Near by I saw where a rac- 
coon had come down to the water for fresh clams, 
leaving his long, sharp track in the mud and sand. 
Before I had passed this hidden stretch of water, a 
pair of those mysterious thrushes, the gray-cheeked, 
flew up from the ground and perched on a low 
branch. 
Who can tell how much this duck, this footprint 
in the sand, and these strange thrushes from the 
far north, enhanced the interest and charm of the 
autumn woods? 
{Ornithology cannot be satisfactorily learned from 
the books. The satisfaction is in learning it from 
/nature. One must have an original experience with 
i the birds. The books are only the guide, the invi- 
‘tation, Though there remain not another new spe- 
cies to describe, any young person with health and 
