It is curious that these slight fragments of notes
at the end vary in different individuals, in strength and
character and in number, from a single faintest squeal to half
a dozen or a dozen distinct sounds. In all cases they are
emitted with apparent effort, as if the bird strained its pipe
in the vain attempt to continue the song.
The statement that the redstart is a mimic is to be met with
in many books about birds. I rather think that in jerking out
these various little broken notes which end its strain,
whether he only squeaks or succeeds in producing a pure sound,
he is striving to recover his own lost song rather than to
imitate the songs of other birds.
So much entertainment did I find at that spot, so grateful did
it seem in its openness after long confinement in the lower
thickly wooded country, that I practically spent the day
there. At all events the best time for walking was gone when
I quitted it, and then I could think of no better plan than to
climb down into the old long untrodden road, or channel, again
just to see where it would lead me. After all, I said, my
time is my own, and to abandon the old way I have walked in so
long without discovering the end would be a mistake. So I
went on in it once more, and in about twenty minutes it came
to an end before a group of old farm buildings in a hollow in
the woods. The space occupied by the buildings was quite
walled round and shut in by a dense growth of trees and
bushes; and there was no soul there and no domestic animal.
Pages:
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207