114 Up the Creek 



a crowd. We cannot heed Nature and fel- 

 low-man at the same moment ; and as to the 

 comparative value of their communications, 

 each must judge for himself. 



Certainly the human voice is a sound which 

 animals are slow to appreciate. How often 

 have I stood in silence before birds and small 

 animals and they have shown no fear ! A 

 movement of my arms would put them on 

 guard, perhaps ; but a word spoken, and away 

 they sped. Not a bird, I have noticed, is 

 startled by the bellow of a bull or the neigh 

 of a horse, and yet my own voice filled them 

 with fear. Even snakes that knew me well 

 and paid no attention to my movements were 

 startled at words loudly spoken. It is a bit 

 humiliating to think that in the estimation of 

 many a wild animal our bark is worse than 

 our bite. 



A midsummer noontide has surely some 

 merit, and when I failed to find fish, frog, or 

 salamander for my young friend, it became 

 necessary to point to some feature of the spot 

 that made it worth a visit. To my discom- 

 fiture, I could find nothing. Trees have been 

 talked of overmuch, and there were no wild 

 flowers. The August bloom gave, as yet, only 



