the study of birds, and to the observance of Nature generally. Through him
he learned to notice the beautiful colourings and markings of the birds, to
know their haunts, and to observe their change of plumage with the changing
seasons; what he learned of their mysterious migrations fired his
imagination.

He speaks of this early intimacy with Nature as a feeling which bordered on
frenzy. Watching the growth of a bird from the egg he compares to the
unfolding of a flower from the bud.

The pain which he felt in seeing the birds die and decay was very acute,
but, fortunately, about this time some one showed him a book of
illustrations, and henceforth "a new life ran in my veins," he says. To
copy Nature was thereafter his one engrossing aim.

That he realised how crude his early efforts were is shown by his saying:
"My pencil gave birth to a family of cripples." His steady progress, too,
is shown in his custom, on every birthday, of burning these 'Crippled'
drawings, then setting to work to make better, truer ones.

His father returning from a sea voyage, probably when the son was about
twenty years old, was not well pleased with the progress that the boy was
making in his studies. One morning soon after, Audubon found himself with
his trunk and his belongings in a private carriage, beside his father, on
his way to the city of Rochefort. The father occupied himself with a book
and hardly spoke to his son during the several days of the journey, though
there was no anger in his face. After they were settled in their new abode,
he seated his son beside him and taking one of his hands in his, calmly
said: "My beloved boy, thou art now safe. I have brought thee here that I
may be able to pay constant attention to thy studies; thou shalt have ample