The Hermit Thrushes 
pause on the wire, and a dive which had to clear the fence before the wings 
could be spread. There were numerous zig-zag and quartering motions 
across the face of the ground, each punctuated by flashing dabs at the 
surface, followed by a little movement of swallowing and a longer twinkle¬ 
winged pause. Once, the bird hopped up on the window-ledge where 
he had either spied, or suspected, the presence of a morsel. After alight¬ 
ing, and previous to the motion of seizure, there was a little pause, wary 
but dignified, in which the bird took account of the possible effect of its 
general action upon the neighborhood. Then an instant dab secured 
the prize—a spider, I think—an effort of swallowing, with just a gleam 
of satisfaction, a period of rest and wing-twinkling, and then a return 
to the ground. 
The consumption of food, distributed over eight or ten episodes, 
did not occupy above seven seconds, and 1 think not above four. 
It is a prosaic register of a prosaic minute, yet within that time, 
or within a tenth of that time, the bird managed to convey to me a sense 
of power, and poise, and self-sufficiency, which not even a philosopher 
could surpass. There was gentility and high breeding, as well as courage 
and discretion there. Above all, there was a sense of life, steadily 
controlled, yet free, flashing, electric, with boundless reserves. And 
think how much happens in the bird’s minute! Doubtless this charming 
creature is geared up to a quicker time schedule than we. Its history 
runs a cycle while ours is groping from cog to cog. The consciousness 
of the bird is unimpeded by a sense of the drag of things. It is un¬ 
oppressed by the mesh of events, past or impending. There is, doubtless, 
always‘present the fear thought, the contingency of evil, but for this 
the bird feels competent, and it pays merely the tribute of alertness. 
The reaction of the momentary fear is the instant joyous reassertion 
of freedom, with proof as instant. 
The bird’s physical satisfactions are, on the other hand, short-lived. 
It is not, after all, wholly involved nor even largely occupied in the 
“eternal quest” for food. The necessity of food is taken for granted, 
but the gratifying of appetite does not bulk large in the bird’s day. 
Even in the minute which is interspersed with it, there is ample time for 
a sort of optimistic leisure, a wooing of the soul, perhaps, or at least a 
manifest enjoyment of outlook. Life is full and sweet and friendly. 
Life is free and engaging, or mildly amusing withal. If I were a bird, 
I think I would be a Hermit Thrush. 
No. 148b Monterey Hermit Thrush 
A. 0 . U. No. 759d. Hylocichla guttata slevini Grinnell. 
Description. —Similar to H. g. guttata , but paler and grayer and much smaller. 
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