The glasses were all focused upon the little hollow before them, Hilary’s face growing brighter as she watched. She and Eloise turned to each other and in one breath whispered “Fox sparrows!”
“I’m so glad,” whispered Lilian. “I missed seeing them last year, for some reason. Look, there is a flock of them.” Several more of the pretty brown sparrows flew from across the river and joined those which the girls were watching.
“Can’t he scratch for a living, though?” remarked Isabel pointing to one that was making the leaves fly. “See him fly around with that reddish tail. What’s that little chap over there?—Oh, a junco. You are very pretty, sir, but I’ve got you on my list already and I am seeking other prey! However, I like your pink bill and your black hood and mantle.”
Just at that point, Betty lost her footing and stepped sidewise into a pool of water, exclaiming a little over her wet feet. With a little whir, the fox sparrows, and a small flock of juncos which had been hidden from sight, rose from the old leaves and fresh green of the new plants to fly away. But from across the stream there came a clear little carol which was some fox sparrow’s “goodbye,” so Cathalina said.
“I had no idea that there were so many juncos there,” said Lilian. “I was watching the fox sparrows when all at once those whisking white tail feathers came into view.”
“It’s the vesper sparrow that has those white feathers on the sides of the tail, too,—isn’t it, Hilary?” asked Betty.
“Yes, and other birds, too, but it is easy at a quick glance to identify these little birds that way, as they fly.”
“You’d better get back to the Hall, Betty,” said Cathalina. “We don’t want any cases of tonsillitis in Lakeview Suite. Come on, want a hand up?”
“No, thanks, Cathie, I’m still able to climb up a hillside.”
The girls scrambled up the hillside that led to the wood, while as they did so, Lilian called their attention to the sound of an airplane humming above them. “Another kind of a bird,” said she, “a humming bird.”