Each year he was less inclined to resist it, and one glorious day of
late April in its twelfth return he had wandered northward along to a
little wood a couple of miles from the town. It was full of unnamed
flowers and voices and mysteries. Every tree and thicket had a
voice--a long ditch full of water had many that called to him.
"_Peep-peep-peep_," they seemed to say in invitation for him to
come and see. He crawled again and again to the ditch and watched
and waited. The loud whistle would sound only a few rods away,
"_Peep-peep-peep_," but ceased at each spot when he came
near--sometimes before him, sometimes behind, but never where he was.
He searched through a small pool with his hands, sifted out sticks and
leaves, but found nothing else. A farmer going by told him it was only
a "spring Peeper," whatever that was, "some kind of a critter in the
water."

Under a log not far away Yan found a little Lizard that tumbled out of
sight into a hole. It was the only living thing there, so he decided
that the "Peeper" must be a "Whistling Lizard." But he was determined
to see them when they were calling. How was it that the ponds all
around should be full of them calling to him and playing hide and seek
and yet defying his most careful search? The voices ceased as soon as
he came near, to be gradually renewed in the pools he had left. His
presence was a husher. He lay for a long time watching a pool, but
none of the voices began again in range of his eye. At length, after
realizing that they were avoiding him, he crawled to a very noisy pond
without showing himself, and nearer and yet nearer until he was within
three feet of a loud peeper in the floating grass. He located the spot
within a few inches and yet could see nothing. He was utterly baffled,
and lay there puzzling over it, when suddenly all the near Peepers
stopped, and Yan was startled by a footfall; and looking around, he