booming crash, and knew the savage work of killing was going on.

Among our acquaintances was a lame redbird who at one time had been
trapped and made a prisoner, confined behind the bars of a wire cell
for many weeks and months. Luckily he made his escape one day when his
grated door was accidentally opened, and he speedily made his way back
to his dearly loved forest.

During the period of his imprisonment in the city he had picked up a
great deal of information regarding the bird trade, and some of the
facts recited by him of the terrible cruelties perpetrated and the
carnage which had been going on for years, almost caused our feathers
to stand upright in horror as we listened.




CHAPTER V

"DON'T, JOHNNY"

Farewell happy fields, where Joy forever dwells.
--_Milton._


A very pleasant, sociable fellow was this redbird, and often when on
hot afternoons we were hiding in the treetops from the rays of the sun
he told us stories and anecdotes about the people he had seen while he
lived in the city.