154 BULLETIN 195, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



he was standing motionless, clad in a brown suit; it may have mis- 

 taken him for a tree. 



Taverner and Swales (1908) write of one that made itself familiar 

 on their last day in camp at Point Pelee : "This last day one fellow 

 became much interested in our tent and camping equipment. It ex- 

 plored the former several times thoroughly, searching every crevice. 

 It examined our methods of packing, and sampled the crumbs of our 

 commissary, gleaning from the cracks of the table, and seemed gen- 

 erally pleased with himself and us. Finally it flew to a neighboring 

 brush pile and scolded us as we took down the tent and piled the 

 things into the wagon." 



Although this wren may approach us fearlessly of its own free 

 will, it is another matter for us to find it in its sylvan retreats. Its 

 glorious song may lure us to catch a glimpse of the singer, but as 

 we push our way through the forest tangles, the voice seems to re- 

 treat before us; it leads us on, now here now there, but it always 

 seems to come from somewhere else, and we are lucky if we catch 

 a fleeting glimpse of the little brown bird. 



One seldom sees a winter wren in open flight, but Wendell Taber 

 (MS.) was favored with the following observation: "The bird was 

 in a clump of catbrier at the top of a bank that shelved rapidly about 

 20 feet down to the Ipswich River. Ultimately the wren rose up in 

 the air, but instead of heading inland and flying low it went out over 

 the river and downriver imtil lost to view, flying at an altitude of 

 35 to 40 feet above the river and marshes. Shortly after the wren 

 had attained its maxinmm height and started downriver, a bird came 

 and pursued it until both were out of sight. The latter bird was not 

 identified but was assumed to be a redwing." This was on April 30, 

 which suggests that the wren was probably on migration ; the redwing 

 may have been chasing what it mistook for a marsh wren, with which 

 it is not on good terms. 



Taber (MS.) and Richard Stackpole "watched a winter wren that 

 seemed to have a regular route it covered. We were facing the open 

 door of a barn. The narrow end of the barn was only a few feet to 

 the left of the door and a brook paralleled the narrow end. We would 

 see the wren disappear behind the barn, come out the open door, fly 

 to its right to the brook, work the few yards down the brook, dis- 

 appear behind the barn, and come out the open door again. The 

 wren did this several times." 



Voice. — The winter wren owes most of its charm and much of its 

 claim to fame to its wonderful voice. Its charming song is a marvelous 

 performance for such a tiny bird. To hear it coming from the shady 

 depths of the northern forests is a delightful surprise, almost startling 

 amid the silence of those dark sylvan aisles. Its variety is entrancing ; 

 the full rich song fairly bursts upon the ear with a tinge of nature's 



