y listened
to the forest concert. The two over his head were still singing with
utmost vigor, but others had joined. From all the trees and bushes about
him came a volume of song, and the shadow of no swooping hawk or eagle
fell across the sky to disturb them.

He had a little bread in his pouch, and he threw some crumbs on the
grass a few feet away. The hand and arm that had cast them sank by his
side, remained absolutely still and he waited. The wonder that he was
wishing so intensely came to pass. A bird, brown and tiny, alighted on
the grass and pecked one of the crumbs. Beyond a doubt, this was a bold
bird, a leader among his kind, an explorer and discoverer. He had never
seen a crumb before, but he picked up one in his tiny bill and found it
good. Then he announced the news to all the world that could hear his
voice, and there was much fluttering of small wings in the air.

More birds, red, green, yellow and brown, settled upon the grass and
began to pick the crumbs eagerly. It was new food, but they found it
good. Nor did they pay any attention to the great figure in buckskin
dyed green lying so near and so still. The instinct given to them in
place of reason, which warned them of the presence of an enemy, gave
them no such warning now, because there was none against which they
could be warned.

Henry always believed that the birds felt his kinship that morning, or
perhaps it was the crumbs that drew them to a friend and gave them
hearts without fear. One of them, perhaps the original bold explorer,
seeking vainly for another crumb, hopped upon his bare hand as it lay in
the grass, but feeling its warmth flew away a foot, hung hovering a
moment or two, then came back and took a peck.

It was not sufficient to hurt Henry's toughened hand, and exerting the
great strength of his will over his body he continued to lie perfectly
motionless. The bird, satisfied that this food was beyond his powers,
stood motionless for a few moments, then flapped his wings two or three
times to indicate that he was a prince and an ornament of the forest,
and began to pour forth the fullest and deepest song that Henry had yet
heard.

It gave him a curious thrill as the bird, perched on his hand, and
extended to his utmost, sang his song. The other birds having finished
all the crumbs stood chirping and twittering in the grass. Then, as if
by a given signal, all of them, including the one on Henry's hand,
united in a single volume