ing and quavering, and he knew that others were pouring out their
souls farther on, as the low hum of their many voices came to his ears.
Now and then he saw a flash of blue or brown or gray, as some restless
feathered being shot from one bough to another. The birds, unusual in
number and sure that there was no hostile presence, were having a grand
concert in honor of a most noble day.

Robert listened and the appeal to his imagination and higher side was
strong. Overhead the chorus of small sweet voices went on, as if there
were no such things as battle or danger. Tayoga also was moved by it.

"By the snakes in the hair of the wise Tododaho," he said, "it is
pleasant to hear! May the wilderness endure always that the birds can
sing in it, far from men, and in peace!"

"May it not be, Tayoga, that the warriors watching the thickets here
will see the birds so thick, and will conclude from it that no defenders
are lying in wait?"

"De Courcelles might, but Tandakora, who has lived his whole life in the
forest, will conclude that the birds are here, unafraid, because we have
been so long in the bushes."

Time went on very slowly and the forest on either side of the creek was
silent, save for the singing of the birds among the bushes in which the
defenders lay hidden. Robert, from whom the feeling of danger departed
for the moment, was almost tempted into? a doze by the warmth of the
thicket and the long peace. His impressions, the pictures that passed
before his mental and physical eye, were confused but agreeable. He was
lying on a soft bank of turf that sloped up to a huge fallen trunk, and
warm, soothing winds stole about among the boughs, rustling the leaves
musically. The birds were singing in increased volume, and, though his
eyes were half veiled by drooping lids, he saw them on many boughs.

"'Tis not their daily concert," he said to Tayoga "In very truth it must
be their grand, annual affair I believe that a great group on our right
is singing against another equally great group on our left. I can't
recall having heard ever before such a volume of song in the woods. It's
in my mind that a contest is going on, for a prize, perhaps. Doubtless
juicy worms are awaiting the winners."

Tayoga laughed.

"You are improving, Dagaeoga," he said in precise tones. "You do not
merely fight and eat and sleep like the white man. You are developing a
soul. You are beginning to understand the birds and animals that live in