ural sound that
rose from the edge of the pond and increased in strength, drawing
nearer, till it was a hideous and terrifying uproar. It was exactly
the sound that Guy had provoked on that first night when he came and
tried to frighten the camp. It passed overhead, and Yan saw for a
moment the form of a large slow-flying bird.

Next day it was Yan's turn to cook. At sunrise, as he went for water,
he saw a large Blue Heron rise from the edge of the pond and fly on
heavy pinions away over the tree-tops. It was a thrilling sight. The
boy stood gazing after it, absolutely rapt with delight, and when it
was gone he went to the place where it rose and found plenty of large
tracks just like the one he had sketched. Unquestionably it was the
same bird as on the night before, and the mystery of the Wolf with the
sore throat was solved. This explanation seemed quite satisfactory to
everybody but Guy. He had always maintained stoutly that the woods
were full of Bears right after sundown. Where they went at other times
was a mystery, but he "reckoned he hadn't yet run across the bird that
could scare him--no, nor the beast, nuther."

Caleb agreed that the grating cry must be that of the Blue Crane, but
the screech and wail in the tree-tops at night he could shed no light
on.

There were many other voices of the night that became more or less
familiar. Some of them were evidently birds; one was the familiar
Song-Sparrow, and high over the tree-tops from the gloaming sky they
often heard a prolonged sweet song. It was not till years afterward
that Yan found out this to be the night-song of the Oven-bird, but he
was able to tell them at once the cause of the startling outcry that
happened one evening an hour after sundown.

The Woodpecker was outside, the other two inside the teepee. A
peculiar sound fell on his ear. It kept on--a succession of long
whines, and getting stronger. As it gave no sign of ending, Sam called
the other boys. They stood in a row there and heard this peculiar
"_whine, whine, whine_" develop into a loud, harsh "_whow,
whow, whow_."

"It must be some new Heron cry," Yan whispered.

But the sound kept on increasing till it most resembled the yowling
of a very strong-voiced Cat, and still grew till each separate
"_meow_" might have been the yell of a Panther. Then at its
highest and loudest there was a prolonged "_meow"_ and silence,
followed finally by the sweet chant of the Song-sparrow.

A great ligh