A red-bird fluttered on my right, and I lay long watching its flight.

Something moved ahead of me, but 'twas only a squirrel.
Then came a mocking laugh behind me.

I turned sharply, but saw nothing.
Far up in the branches there sounded the slow flap of an owl's flight.
Many noises succeeded, and suddenly came one which froze my blood--the harsh scream of a hawk.

My enemy was playing with me, and calling the wild things to mock me.
I went on a little, and then turned up the hill to where a clump of pines made a darker patch in the woodland.

All was quiet again, and my eyes searched the dusk for the sign of human life.