I scaled a barbed-wire fence and made in that direction, but to no purpose.
I was preparing to surmount the barbed-wire fence again, when the planter returned and halted for another chat.
Then I crossed more planted fields,--climbing more barbed-wire fences, and stopping on the way to enjoy the sweetly quaint music of a little chorus of white-crowned sparrows,--and skirted once more the muddy shore of the cane-swamp, where the yellowlegs and sandpipers were still feeding.