A PANIC AMONG THE TOWHEES. 105 



to be among the "later" ones, and after spend- 

 ing an hour or two there, I rose to go back, 

 when in passing a thick-growing evergreen tree, 

 I saw that I had created a panic. There was a 

 flutter of wings, there were cries, and on the 

 tree, in plain sight, the towhee bunting and his 

 brown-clad spouse. Of course there must be 

 some reason for this reckless display ; I sought 

 the cause, and found a nest, a mere depression 

 in the ground, and one sorry -looking youngster, 

 the sole survivor of the perils of the situation. 

 Over that one nestling they were as concerned 

 as the proverbial hen with one chicken, and they 

 flitted about in distress while I looked at their 

 half -fledged bantling, and hoped it was a singer 

 to ring the delightful silver-toned tremolo that 

 had charmed me that morning. 



That evening, listening on the piazza to the 

 usual twilight chorus, the wood-thrush far-off, 

 the towhee from the pasture, the robins all 

 around, I heard suddenly the "quee-o" of a 

 bird I knew, so near that I started, and my eyes 

 fell directly upon him, standing on the lowest 

 limb of a dead tree, not ten feet from me. 



He was so near I did not need my glass, nor 

 indeed did I dare move a finger, lest he take 

 flight. Several times he uttered his soft call, 

 and then, while my eyes were fastened upon him, 

 he began quivering with excitement, his wings 



