THE NEST OE THE BROWN THRUSH. 



ANGUS GAINES. 



On the North side the creek would have 

 found ample room to expand over the wide 

 low bar of white sand that stretched out 

 toward the willow thicket; but that was 

 precisely the course which it did not choose 

 to take. Creeping close by the high South- 

 ern bank, and half undermining the wildly 

 tangled osage hedge, it made a final sharp 

 turn, before losing itself in the Wabash, 

 and spent its last strength in a dash against 

 the high, wooded ridge. 



usually I was the only human visitor. I 

 have spent many a long summer day there, 

 lying in the thick blue grass on the over- 

 hanging bank, or sitting on some, great 

 tree trunk that bridged the stream. Some- 

 times I would read, but more often I would 

 watch the varied forms of life about me. 



Harmless little snakes sported in the 

 water or basked upon the low sand bars. 

 Lazy turtles sunned themselves on stones 

 and logs. In the long summer twilight I 



NEST OF THE BROWN THRUSH. 



On one side flashes of reflected sunlight, 

 dancing fitfully through the dense tangle of 

 willows, suggested the broad river beyond; 

 but high banks, hedges and trees, in close 

 semicircle, cut off the landward view and 

 gave no hint of the proximity of traveled 

 road or cultivated fields. 



In this miniature wilderness nature 

 reigned supreme. Strange birds, never 

 seen in the fields and meadows near by, 

 paused in their migratory flights and 

 dropped down here as their ancestors had 

 done before their domain was invaded by 

 man. Truant schoolboys and juvenile 

 sportsmen invaded the place at times, but 



could see myriads of great waterbugs circ- 

 ling about on the surface of the stream, and 

 muskrats frolicking on the banks or seem- 

 ing to play tag in the water. 



Every part of the day and night had a dif- 

 ferent attraction, and the sights and sounds 

 also changed with the weather. On fine 

 days a good variety of song birds made the 

 creekside musical with their notes, and in 

 cloudy, gloomy weather, when these song- 

 sters were mute and discouraged, when the 

 snakes were hid and even the turtles had 

 plunged into the water to get out of the 

 rain, the brown thrushes poured forth their 

 matchless bursts of song. 



420 



