MIGRATION. 
131 
seems still and heavy in the silence which fol¬ 
lows, so the migration suddenly ends, and the 
woods and fields become very still in the late 
Indian summer. Now and then the scream of 
a blue jay falls upon the ear, or a faint note of 
a tree sparrow comes from the weeds by the 
roadside; but as a rule nature is dumb, and the 
leaves fall like tears. All the beauty of sky 
and autumn foliage cannot bring the birds back 
to the silent forest. Warm though the sun 
may be, and soft the haze on the cheek of Pas- 
saconaway, these charms cannot woo back the 
birds from their migration. The music of the 
Pied Piper has bewitched them, they are dream¬ 
ing of gushing waters and flowers of fairest hue; 
and many a frosty, starlit night will pass before 
their wings beat once more in the clear Clio- 
corua air. 
