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As soon as the trees were cut the face of the country began to assume an aspect which greatly favoured such species as the Bobolink, Meadowlark, Quail, Vesper Sparrow, and others of the field-loving varieties. The open country brought them suitable places to nest, and agriculture increased their food supply.
When I looked at the moonlight on the water, or the cloud-shadows on the hills, or the sunset sky, with the tall, black tree-boles and waving foliage relieved against it, or when I heard a mellow gush of music from the brown-breasted fife-bird in the summer woods, or the merry quaver of the bobolink in the corn land, the thought of an eternal loss of these familiar sights and sounds would sometimes thrill through me with a sharp and bitter pain.
"Anyhow, I reckon that's where these men live," Paul declared; "and now the question is, are we going to turn back here; or keep right on exploring this queer old Cedar Island?" Bobolink, who was busy cutting his initials in the bark of the big cedar that topped the squatty hill, spoke first of all; for being an impetuous fellow, he seldom thought twice before airing his opinions.
"There's no doubt about it. Bobby Bobolink is here at last!" AS fast as they could fly, old Mr. Crow and Mr. Red-winged Blackbird hurried over to the meadow, where they had heard Bobby Bobolink's bubbling notes.
Aunt Lois, who never shut her eyes a moment on any occasion, discerned this from a distant part of the room, and in vain endeavoured to stop it by vigorously shaking her head at the offender. She might as well have shaken it at a bobolink tilting on a clover top.
Again it was Bobolink who caught a sound of some sort. "Tell me again I'm hearing owls, will you, fellows? If that ain't a gasoline wagon climbing a hill ahead there I'm off my guess," he whispered. "Chug! chug!" came the plain sound, as the air current veered more toward the point toward which they were heading.
"Hear that bird! It's a bobolink it is! Oh, me! Oh, my! I haven't heard a bobolink for I'm not going to bother to think how long. It is glorious!" "This isn't anything compared to the woods and the brook," asserted Polly. She put down her lunch-basket and snipped off some clover heads. "Those are full of honey, Miss Nita, taste! They aren't buggy a mite."
"How did you like it up on the Radway?" continued the one who had made the first inquiry, Jack Stormways, whose father owned a lumber yard and planing mill just outside the limits of the town, which was really the goal of their present after-supper walk. "Great place, all right," replied Bobolink. "Paul kept calling my attention to all the things worth seeing.
"Listen!" said Paul, a little sharply, as though he had no sympathy with such talk. They strained their hearing for possibly a full minute. Then Bobolink, who liked to talk, could no longer hold in. "What'd you think you heard, Paul?" he whispered. "A little rustling sound just alongside the brush you pointed out," the scout master replied. "But you didn't get it again; did you?" urged the other.
Paul himself intended to pass the night in the open. He declared he would really enjoy the experience; and two others insisted on keeping him company little Nuthin and Bobolink. So Paul, who knew a lot about these things, showed them just how to wrap themselves up like mummies in their blankets, and then lie with their feet to the fire.
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