228 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



your clothing tightly and winds you 

 into its clutches. I think this vine 

 must have been the model for the 

 treacherous barbed-wire fencing, and 

 its hooks are often the meat-safe where 

 the butcher-bird hangs his provisions. 

 No wonder that the chat feels secure 

 from nest-hunters when he builds in a 

 cat-brier tangle. 



Beyond is a crimson patch of sumach 

 berries, with their steeple-shaped 

 bunches, and the bitter-sweet hangs 

 its red quartered fruit nigh in the top 

 of a cedar. Something is fluttering 

 there, pulling and pecking at the 

 berries; soon the black, polished beak 

 and cinnamon crest of the cedar-bird 

 emerges and the vibrations of the 

 dense green branches indicate others. 

 Winter birds seldom go far from houses 

 in their haunts or habits of feeding, 

 but seem to say quiescently: "We are 



