on, and he crashed recklessly through the briers and
laurels in pursuit. It is pleasant to know, further, that he found not
only the singer, but his nest, which was the first he had ever seen, and
gave him a delight known only to enthusiastic bird-lovers.

[Sidenote: _FOREST SOUNDS._]

The morning after the absurd incident of a mouse-hunt, by the dog who in
his character of protector was our daily companion, we started out
afresh, with ears for nothing but wren songs. Making a wide detour to
avoid the scene of yesterday's excitement, we were soon comfortably
seated near the spot the wren seemed to haunt, and silence fell between
us. That is to say, _we_ were quiet, though nothing is farther from the
truth than our common expression "silent woods." The forest is never
silent. Hushed it may be of man's clamor, and empty as well of his
presence, but it is filled with sounds from its own abundant life; not
so loud, perhaps, and aggressive to the ear as the rumble of Broadway,
but fully as continuous; and if the human wanderer in its delightsome
shades will but bring his own noisy progress to a halt, he will enjoy a
new sensation. There is the breeze that sets all the leaves to
whispering, not to speak of rougher winds that fill the dim aisles with
a roar like Niagara. There are the falling of dead twigs, the rustle of
leaves under the footsteps of some small shy creature in fur, the
dropping of nuts, and the tapping of woodpeckers. There are the voices
of the wood-dwellers,--not songs alone, but calls and utterances of many
kinds from birds; cries and scolding of squirrels, who have a
_repertoire_ astonishing to those who do not know them; squawks and
squeals of little animals more often heard than seen; and, not least,
the battle-cries of the winged hosts "who come with songs to greet you"
wherever and whenever you may appear.

Moreover, the moment one of the human race is quiet,--such is our
reputation for unrest,--the birds grow suspicious, and take pains to
announce to all whom it may concern that here is an interloper in
nature. Even if there be present no robin,--vociferous guardian of the
peace,--a meek and gentle flicker mounts the highest tree and cries
"pe-auk! pe-auk!" as loud as he can shout, a squirrel on one side
shrieks at the top of his voice, veeries call anxiously here and there,
while a vireo warbles continuously overhead, and a redstart "trills his
twittering horn."

When the wren song began, quite n