69 



Fig. 58. Father Chebec was in such a hurry that he trod all 

 over one of the little birds ivhile feeding the other. 



A Family of Redstarts 



The morning of one June day found me threading my 

 way along a narrow footpath that wound its way in and out 

 through one of the most delightful pieces of woodland that 

 ever echoed a bird song. As I walked slowly along, I was 

 separating, by their voices, the many varieties of birds 

 whose babble filled the woodland with melody. 



A gleam of orange and black among the foliage, pro- 

 claims the presence of a Redstart, that alert member of the 

 warbler family whose habits are so like those of some of the 

 flycatchers. He was in the act of tearing fragments from 

 a caterpillar nest ; this material he carried across the path 

 to a small maple about twenty feet from me and wound it 

 about the framework of a nest that he and his mate had 

 just commenced. While he was so engaged, his partner 

 appeared with a load of plant fibres which she carefully 

 and skilfully weaved into the growing home. 



