Pei olee ene Ue epee Ne a Dish is ho Pal N 13 
Back Roads are Rewarding’ 
By F. J. FREEMAN 
WE INVETERATE bird watchers who each year start our list on Jan. 1 and 
add to it bird by bird until the total Dec. 31 is around 200 birds — maybe 
more, usually less — know the thrill of running into a “pocket” of new 
species that give our list a tremendous boost. This delightful experience 
was mine last June when on the 18th and 19th I drove with my two boys 
down to DuQuoin, Ill. The boys stopped over for a week’s intensive music 
session at the Egyptian Music camp. We arrived about 4 o’clock and after 
seeing the boys registered, I checked in at a hotel and found a long even- 
ing before me. 
To make the most of the trip I had planned on taking a drive on the 
back roads in the evening to see what I could see. Heading east toward 
Benton, I found the road running through swampy bottomlands formed 
by the overflow of the Little and Big Muddy rivers. The season this year 
being apparently a little late, the frogs were making merry in the swamps 
and I have never heard such a variety or volume of amphibious music. It 
was truly astonishing. Coming back after dark I saw the torches of two 
parties of hunters out after the frogs. After I turned north from Benton, 
I found a side road running west toward the Big Muddy and headed for 
it. One mile west I reached a crossroads at which was situated the Pales- 
tine church. The white frame structure was modest, unimposing and un- 
inspiring. It being a Sunday evening, the earlier comers were loitering 
outside and were curious of the stranger who passed them by. 
Continuing on west, I passed an oil rig at work in an apparently new 
field so far as oil was concerned. Floodlights allowed for uninterrupted 
night drilling. Farther on I passed a deserted farm house and the road 
began to worsen. It finally dipped down the bank of the flood plain of the 
Big Muddy and was so badly eroded at this point that it required careful 
steering. The roadside growth grew so close that it touched the car on 
both sides. A culvert crossed under the road which was covered originally 
by three slabs of concrete. One was missing and necessitated a crowding 
to one side to pass over. 
Finally the road ended at the bank of the Big Muddy. Formerly it 
turned south over a small bridge that had lost all its planking and then 
over a larger iron bridge over the river itself. Half the planking on this 
bridge was gone and one had to watch one’s step. I have gone to some 
lengths to describe the conditions of the road as I have found things in 
such a dilapidated state whenever I have gone off like this downstate. 
When you go off on a side road down there, you may very well have to 
turn back. 
The present use for this old-road was to bring fishermen down to the 
river banks, and they approached it from the west as well as from the 
east. However, that evening it was deserted. There was no sound of human 
making; no hum of traffic, no train whistle, no voice calling, nor even the 
barking of a dog. But there were birds aplenty in this wooded bottom- 
land, and they were singing their vespers. Three or four wood thrushes 
