BIRDS IN A VILLAGE 31 



although in no sense together, and the effect was 

 indeed curious. This is not a song that spurts and 

 gushes up fountain-like, in the manner of the robin's 

 and of some other kinds, sprinkling the listener, so 

 to speak, with a sparkling vocal spray ; but it keeps 

 low down, a song that flows along the surface, 

 gurgling and prattling like musical running water 

 in its shallow pebbly channel. Listening again, the 

 similitude that seemed appropriate at first was cast 

 aside for another, and then another still. The hidden 

 singers scattered all about their rushy island were 

 small fantastic human minstrels, performing on a 

 variety of instruments, some unknown, others 

 recognizable — bones and castanets, tiny hurdy- 

 gurdies, piccoloes, banjos, tabours, and Pandean 

 pipes — a strange medley ! 



Interesting as this concert was, it held me less 

 than the solitary singing of a sedge-warbler that 

 lived by himself, or with only his mate, higher up 

 where the stream was narrow so that I could get 

 near him ; for he not only tickled my ears with his 

 rapid reedy music, but amused my mind as well 

 with a pretty little problem in bird psychology. 

 I could sit within a few yards of his tangled haunt 

 without hearing a note ; but if I jumped up and 

 made a noise, or struck the branches with my stick, 

 he would incontinently burst into song. It is a very 

 well-known habit of the bird, and on account of it 



