in an instant you see him quietly perched upon some low
tree or decayed stub in a swamp or meadow, with reminiscences of frogs
and mice stirring in his maw.

When the south wind blows, it is a study to see three or four of these
air-kings at the head of the valley far up toward the mountain,
balancing and oscillating upon the strong current; now quite
stationary, except a slight tremulous motion like the poise of a
rope-dancer, then rising and falling in long undulations, and seeming
to resign themselves passively to the wind; or, again sailing high and
level far above the mountain's peak, no bluster and haste, but as
stated, occasionally a terrible earnestness and speed. Fire at one as
he sails overhead and, unless wounded badly, he will not change his
course or gait.

His flight is a perfect picture of repose in motion. It strikes the
eye as more surprising than the flight of a pigeon, and swallow even,
in that the effort put forth is so uniform and delicate as to escape
observation, giving to the movement an air of buoyancy and perpetuity,
the effluence of power rather than the conscious application of it.

The calmness and dignity of this hawk, when attacked by crows or the
kingbird, are well worth of him. He seldom deigns to notice his noisy
and furious antagonists, but deliberately wheels about in that aerial
spiral, and mounts and mounts till his pursuers grow dizzy and return
to earth again. It is quite original, this mode of getting rid of an
unworthy opponent, rising to the heights where the braggart is dazed
and bewildered and loses his reckoning! I am not sure but is is worthy
of imitation.

But summer wanes, and autumn approaches. The songsters of the
seed-time are silent at the reaping of the harvest. Other minstrels
take up the strain. It is the heyday of insect life. The day is
canopied with musical sound. All the songs of the spring and summer
appear to be floating, softened and refined, in the upper air. The
birds, in a new but less holiday suit, turn their faces southward. The
swallows flock and go; the bobolinks flock and go; silently and
unobserved, the thrushes go. Autumn arrives, bringing finches,
warblers, sparrows, and kinglets from the north. Silently the
procession passes. Yonder hawk, sailing peacefully away till he is
lost in the horizon, is a symbol of the closing season and the
departing birds. 1863.

II

IN THE HEMLOCKS

Most people receive with incredulity a statement of th