jNIusic of the Wild 



cry ^\ith Wait Whitman, "I think 1 could turn 

 me and hve with the animals." 



There is music in the vcjices of the fiu'red peo- 

 ple. It may sound like sniffling, grunting, and 

 Animal growling to US, hut that is because wt fail in our 

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

 ing their homes, raising their babies, loving and 

 caring for their mates just as do hiunan folk, and 

 when undisturbed all their notes are of love and 

 tenderness. 



There is music in the Mater. 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 vmtil your back aches, and 

 row in jiursuit until your hands blister ; but always 

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

 ing circles of Avaves from a leaping bass just a 

 short distance away. 



Where deep Mater meets those reeds and rushes 

 that grow beneath the surface, the A^ariety fishermen 

 Watei- call "bass-weeds," the children of nature are close 

 Voices together, and creatures of land and A\'ater habit 

 find themselves in touch. Such shores are beauti- 

 ful, and in great marshes stretch away endlessly. 

 Jjiving creatures are so numerous you need not 

 linger to study their music; it travels with you. 



8.54 



