t would deceive a
red-wing himself, and then, oddest of all, the laugh of a feeble old
man, a weak sort of "yah! yah! yah!" If I had not seen him in the act, I
could not have believed the sound came from a bird's throat. He
concluded with a low, almost whispered "chur-r-r," a sort of private
chuckle over his unique exhibition. After a few minutes' singing he
returned to his foraging on the ground, or over the lowest twigs of the
bushes, all the time bubbling over with low joyous notes, his graceful
head thrown up, and his beautiful golden throat swelling with the happy
song. The listener and looker behind the screen was charmed to absolute
quiet, and the bird so utterly unsuspicious of observers that he was
perfectly natural and at his ease, hopping quickly from place to place,
and apparently snatching his repast between notes.

The chat's secret of invisibility was thus plainly revealed. It is not
in his protective coloring, for though his back is modest of hue, his
breast is conspicuously showy; nor is it in his size, for he is almost
as large as an oriole; it is in his manners. The bird I was watching
never approached the top of a shrub, but invariably perched a foot or
more below it, and his movements, though quick, were silence itself. No
rustle of leaves proclaimed his presence; indeed, he seemed to avoid
leaves, using the outside twigs near the main stalk or trunk, where they
are usually quite bare, and no flit of wing or tail gave warning of his
change of position. There was a seemingly natural wariness and
cautiousness in every movement and attitude, that I never saw equaled in
feathers.

Then, too, the clever fellow was so constantly on his guard and so alert
that the least stir attracted his attention. Though inside the house, as
I said, not near the window, and further veiled by screens, I had to
remain as nearly motionless as possible, and use my glass with utmost
caution. The smallest movement sent him into the bushes like a shot,--or
rather, like a shadow, for the passage was always noiseless. Suspicion
once aroused, the bird simply disappeared. One could not say of him, as
of others, that he flew, for whether he used his wings, or melted away,
or sank into the earth, it would be hard to tell. All I can be positive
about is, that whereas one moment he was there, the next he was gone.

After this exhibition of the character of the chat, his constant
watchfulness, his distrust, his love of mystery, it may