FEATHERED GEMS 



out almost from under my feet, trembling her wings, 

 as she ran stumbling over the ground. The nest was 

 a frail affair, built partly under some dead leaves, and 

 in it were five tiny, naked young. I withdrew for 

 awhile, and, on returning, saw her on the nest. Pro- 

 ceeding to set up the camera on the shortened tripod, 

 by working very slowly I was able to bring the lens 

 within about three feet and focus on the little mother. 

 It was quite dark under the hemlocks, but fortunately 

 I carried a small pocket mirror for such purpose, and 

 by throwing rays of light upon her was able to secure 

 some good pictures, as she kept very still. To reward 

 her I withdrew without flushing her from her babies. 

 The Oven-bird, which is so abundant in the woods, 

 builds its nest on the ground under dead leaves which 

 are arched over it so as to make the entrance in the 

 side, as in an old-fashioned oven — whence the bird's 

 name. I have been especially fortunate in stumbling 

 across these nests, I suppose because I have been a 

 good deal in the woods and kept industriously in mo- 

 tion. One day I found two nests by flushing the birds 

 when I had almost stepped on them. It was mid 

 June and the eggs looked fresh. This species, and 

 most of the warblers in this latitude, have eggs, ordi- 

 narily, by the first of June, or the last week in May, 

 but in 1907 most of them delayed till toward the middle 

 of June, which is very unusual. As it was toward 

 evening and I had a long drive home, I came again, a 

 week later. One of the nests had been robbed by some 



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