Music of the Wild 



A heron's voice is at its best when he calls his 



mate; but even then those who all their lives have 



The Bat- studied bird notes under stress of diiFerent emo- 



tle-cryof |jQjjg have difficulty in deciding' whether he says, 



the Heron ^, , f . . ^ . . oi 



'Come, my love; this spot is jjroj^itious. share a 

 morning treat with your dearest!" or, "Better keep 

 awajr, old skin and bones ; there 's danger around 

 this frog pond!" But what he says when he de- 

 fends his mate and young from intruders there is 

 no trouble in understanding, and he emphasizes it 

 with beak, wings, and feet. That is the hoarse, 

 rasping battle-cry of the heron, and if you do not 

 want to fight you had better run. 



Water carries sound so clearly and for such dis- 

 tances the woodpeckers and flickers that choose 

 The marsh drums for their performances outdo their 



Drum- fgjiow iBusiciaiis of the land. Every liollow, vine- 

 Majors of , , . ■ . 

 the Marsh covcrcd tree stump of the marsh is a big bassdrum, 



and on it these drummers perform all day with 

 never-ending vigor, wliile the breast of the water 

 serves as their sounding-board. When they have 

 drummed until they are tired clinging to their in- 

 struments, they lean back and cry, "Kerr, kerr, 

 kerr!" like the wailing notes of a fife, and then 

 return to their drumming. 



To these performers of the day and partly of 

 the night now are added other musicians, wholly 

 nocturnal, that have arrived from the forest. 

 When dusk creeps from the deep Mood and in- 



418 



