no ON THE BIRDS' HIGHWAY 



sparrow-hawk flew off over the woods as 

 I approached, and a fox sparrow took 

 refuge in the depths of a dark spruce. 

 The air was laden with the deUcious odor 

 of the balsam firs, sweet fern and wild 

 roses ; deep maroon cones hung on the 

 branches of the spruce in striking con- 

 trast to the green limbs. 



A field sparrow sang from some distant 

 tree and a pair of kingbirds scolded as I 

 drew near their domain. Two chickadees, 

 a black poll warbler and a peabody bird 

 hovered among the firs, not showing the 

 slightest fear at my inspecting them so 

 closely. Many half-dead trees were draped 

 in long festoons ot silvery moss. From 

 the shores came the notes of spotted and 

 least sandpipers, and from the woods the 

 " flick, flick, flick " of a golden-winged 

 woodpecker. Large flame-colored toad- 

 stools and fungi grew among the pine 

 needles on the ground, and I could hear 

 all day the tinkling of cow-bells from the 

 fields behind the woods, like the sounds 

 of the bells frorn the cattle grazing on the 

 Swiss mountain sides. Two red-eyed vireos 

 and a redstart fluttered through the birches 

 and alders in a small patch of swampy land. 



