k_ of a nuthatch, which
followed it; and this, with an indefinable something in his manner, made
me suspect him of being a young bird. Young or old, however, he had
learned one lesson well, at all events, one which I hoped would keep him
out of the talons of his enemies for long days to come.

It was pleasant to see how cheerfully he resumed work as soon as the
alarm was over. _This_ danger was escaped, at any rate; and why should
he make himself miserable with worrying about the next? He had the true
philosophy. We who pity the birds for their numberless perils are
ourselves in no better case. Consumption, fevers, accidents, enemies of
every name are continually lying in wait for our destruction. We walk
surrounded with them; seeing them not, to be sure, but knowing, all the
same, that they are there; yet feeling, too, like the birds, that in
some way or other we shall elude them a while longer, and holding at
second hand the truth which these humble creatures practice upon
instinctively,--"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

Not far from this spot, on a previous occasion, I had very unexpectedly
come face to face with another of the creeper's blood-thirsty
persecutors. It happened that a warbler was singing in a lofty birch,
and being in doubt about the song (which was a little like the
Nashville's, but longer in each of its two parts and ending with a less
confused flourish), I was of course very desirous to see the singer. But
to catch sight of a small bird amid thick foliage, fifty feet or more
above you, is not an easy matter, as I believe I have already once
remarked. So when I grew weary of the attempt, I bethought myself to
try the efficacy of an old device, well known to all collectors, and
proceeded to imitate, as well as I could, the cries of some bird in
distress. My warbler was imperturbable. He had no nest or young to be
anxious about, and kept on singing. But pretty soon I was apprised of
something in the air, coming toward me, and looking up, beheld a large
owl who appeared to be dropping straight upon my head. He saw me in time
to avoid such a catastrophe, however, and, describing a graceful curve,
alighted on a low branch near by, and stared at me as only an owl can.
Then away he went, while at the same instant a jay dashed into the
thicket and out again, shouting derisively, "I saw you! I saw you!"
Evidently the trick was a good one, and moderately well played; in
further confirmation of