Again and again the familiar voice of the song sparrow came from the dark shore of Asamuk, or the field sparrow trilled from the top of some cedar, occasionally the painted one, Aunakeu, the partridge, drummed in the upper woods, and nightly there was the persistent chant of Muckawis, the whippoorwill, the myriad voices of the little frogs called spring-peepers, and the peculiar, "peent, peent," from the sky, followed by a twittering, that Quonab told him was the love song of the swamp bird--the big snipe, with the fantail and long, soft bill, and eyes like a deer.
"Do you mean the woodcock ?" "Ugh, that's the name; Pah-dash-ka-anja we call it." The waning of the moon brought new songsters, with many a nightingale among them.

A low bush near the plain was vocal during the full moon with the sweet but disconnected music of the yellow-breasted chat.

The forest rang again and again with a wild, torrential strain of music that seemed to come from the stars.

It sent peculiar thrill into Rolf's heart, and gave him a lump his throat as he listened.
"What is that, Quonab ?" The Indian shook his head.

Then, later, when it ended, he said: "That is the mystery song of some one I never saw him." There was a long silence, then the lad began, "There's no good hunting here now, Quonab.