. Bird-land echoes; . was too near and dear to me, at least, to everthink of its destruction. It remained until the early autumn rains broughtthe pond up to its proper level, and even then ap-peared loath to depart, for I saw it on the narrowbeach between the dense shrubbery and the deepwater while passing in my boat one morning earlyin October. It seemed at that time to have sud-denly grown wild again, and, whistling with unusualvigor, it finally rose high in the air and directed itsflight towards the river. I watched it until a merespeck in the western sky, and when lost to view I 202 Bird-L
. Bird-land echoes; . was too near and dear to me, at least, to everthink of its destruction. It remained until the early autumn rains broughtthe pond up to its proper level, and even then ap-peared loath to depart, for I saw it on the narrowbeach between the dense shrubbery and the deepwater while passing in my boat one morning earlyin October. It seemed at that time to have sud-denly grown wild again, and, whistling with unusualvigor, it finally rose high in the air and directed itsflight towards the river. I watched it until a merespeck in the western sky, and when lost to view I 202 Bird-Land Echoes. felt that I was sajing good-by forever to a valuedfriend. A day on Duck Island,—a September day whenthere is the suggestiveness of decay over all the up-lands ; almost a funereal outlook ; for the summer,though not dead, is slowly dying. However, thereis, as yet, but little evidence of this on the islandshores. The tides have kept the herbage green, and there is no lack of glitter along the little ridges. Sanderling. where the currents have heaped the sand into curi-ously curved lines. The scattered relics of the lastgreat freshet—branches of old trees torn from themountain-side—still hold their places, and abouteach is a little pool that steadily grows less withthe ebbing and is refilled again by the returningtide before it has wasted quite away. Here, whenthe island is abandoned by all after the fishermenhave dried their nets for the season, I am wont to Where Runs the Tide. 203 seek a comfortable seat and watch the ever-shiftingscenes, and am only disappointed when the sandyreaches next the waters edge are not made brighterby the fairest, the liveliest, and, I fancy, the mostintelligent of all our wading birds, the piping plovers,sanderlings, and peeps. Everywhere I see ex-amples of big brains in little bodies ; and just asthe ant is far ahead of the beetle and the gaudy
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectbirds, bookyear1896
