One day a tragedy was enacted a few yards from where I was sitting with
a book; two song-sparrows trying to defend their nest against a black
snake. The curious, interrogating note of a chicken who had suddenly
come upon the scene in his walk caused me to look up from my reading.
There were the sparrows, with wings raised in a way peculiarly
expressive of horror and dismay, rushing about a low clump of grass
and bushes. Then, looking more closely, I saw the glistening form of
the black snake and the quick movement of his head as he tried to seize
the birds. The sparrows darted about and through the grass and weeds,
trying to beat the snake off. Their tails and wings were spread,
and, panting with the heat and the desperate struggle, they presented
a most singular spectacle. They uttered no cry, not a sound escaped
them; they were plainly speechless with horror and dismay. Not once
did they drop their wings, and the peculiar expression of those
uplifted palms, as it were, I shall never forget. It occurred to me
that perhaps here was a case of attempted bird-charming on the part of
the snake, so I looked on from behind the fence.
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