Slowly, and with the utmost caution, he advanced until not more than two feet separated us. There he stopped and literally looked me up and down. Not a sound nor a movement did I make, so fearful was I of frightening my guest away. What a remarkably clean white breast he had, and how distinct were the round black spots with which it was speckled! Here was the woodland brother of the Robin and the Bluebird right where I could put my hand on him. After he had become satisfied that I was harmless and was no more interesting than any of the queer-looking fallen logs or rocks of the forest, he turned his back, rather rudely, and left the tent.

It was then that I arose and went about my fire making. If the birds were so anxious to have me see them that they were forced to come into my tent I could no longer refuse them. A hasty breakfast over, I started off into the woods, glasses in hand, in quest of the birds that were calling.

NOTES

Transcriber’s Notes