ountry for food. The
boom of the bittern resounds all day, and above it the rasping scream
of the blue heron, as he strikes terror to the hearts of frogdom; while
the occasional cries of a lost loon, strayed from its flock in northern
migration, fill the swamp with sounds of wailing.

Flashing through the tree-tops of the Limberlost there are birds whose
colour is more brilliant than that of the gaudiest flower lifting its
face to light and air. The lilies of the mire are not so white as the
white herons that fish among them. The ripest spray of goldenrod is
not so highly coloured as the burnished gold on the breast of the
oriole that rocks on it. The jays are bluer than the calamus bed they
wrangle above with throaty chatter. The finches are a finer purple
than the ironwort. For every clump of foxfire flaming in the
Limberlost, there is a cardinal glowing redder on a bush above it.
These may not be more numerous than other birds, but their brilliant
colouring and the fearless disposition make them seem so.

The Cardinal was hatched in a thicket of sweetbrier and blackberry.
His father was a tough old widower of many experiences and variable
temper. He was the biggest, most aggressive redbird in the Limberlost,
and easily reigned king of his kind. Catbirds, king-birds, and shrikes
gave him a wide berth, and not even the ever-quarrelsome jays plucked
up enough courage to antagonize him. A few days after his latest
bereavement, he saw a fine, plump young female; and she so filled his
eye that he gave her no rest until she permitted his caresses, and
carried the first twig to the wild rose. She was very proud to mate
with the king of the Limberlost; and if deep in her heart she felt
transient fears of her lordly master, she gave no sign, for she was a
bird of goodly proportion and fine feather herself.

She chose her location with the eye of an artist, and the judgment of a
nest builder of more experience. It would be difficult for snakes and
squirrels to penetrate that briery thicket. The white berry blossoms
scarcely had ceased to attract a swarm of insects before the sweets of
the roses recalled them; by the time they had faded, luscious big
berries ripened within reach and drew food hunters. She built with far
more than ordinary care. It was a beautiful nest, not nearly so
carelessly made as those of her kindred all through the swamp. There
was a distinct attempt at a cup shape, and it really was neatl