ready to burst. In the upland
the smoke was curling over sugar-camp and clearing; in the forests
animals were rousing from their long sleep; the shad were starting anew
their never-ending journey up the shining river; peeps of green were
mantling hilltop and valley; and the northland was ready for its
dearest springtime treasures to come home again.

From overhead were ringing those first glad notes, caught nearer the
Throne than those of any other bird, "Spring o' year! Spring o' year!";
while stilt-legged little killdeers were scudding around the Limberlost
and beside the river, flinging from cloudland their "Kill deer! Kill
deer!" call. The robins in the orchards were pulling the long dried
blades of last year's grass from beneath the snow to line their
mud-walled cups; and the bluebirds were at the hollow apple tree. Flat
on the top rail, the doves were gathering their few coarse sticks and
twigs together. It was such a splendid place to set their cradle. The
weatherbeaten, rotting old rails were the very colour of the busy dove
mother. Her red-rimmed eye fitted into the background like a tiny
scarlet lichen cup. Surely no one would ever see her! The Limberlost
and shining river, the fields and forests, the wayside bushes and
fences, the stumps, logs, hollow trees, even the bare brown breast of
Mother Earth, were all waiting to cradle their own again; and by one of
the untold miracles each would return to its place.

There was intoxication in the air. The subtle, pungent, ravishing
odours on the wind, of unfolding leaves, ice-water washed plants, and
catkin pollen, were an elixir to humanity. The cattle of the field
were fairly drunk with it, and herds, dry-fed during the winter, were
coming to their first grazing with heads thrown high, romping,
bellowing, and racing like wild things.

The north wind, sweeping from icy fastnesses, caught this odour of
spring, and carried it to the orange orchards and Everglades; and at a
breath of it, crazed with excitement, the Cardinal went flaming through
the orchard, for with no one to teach him, he knew what it meant. The
call had come. Holidays were over.

It was time to go home, time to riot in crisp freshness, time to go
courting, time to make love, time to possess his own, time for mating
and nest-building. All that day he flashed around, nervous with dread
of the unknown, and palpitant with delightful expectation; but with the
coming of dusk he began his