As we turned from the hillside and skirted the marsh with its thickets of 

 willow, the well trained leaders halted and beckoned the rest to approach with 

 care. At the base on an old tree, quite similar to the one in our excellent illus- 

 tration, sat the new bird of the day. His size, shape, bill and beauty all suggested 

 warbler. The sunlight on the back made it appear much bluer than it is in th6 

 picture; the bill, cheeks, throat and wings were jet black and the under parts pure 

 white. Nor did we fail to note the white triangle on the side of the wing. 



A few of the group knew this beauty to be the black-throated blue warbler 

 and so he was proclaimed. 



Whence came this trtistful little bird? Did he not know that we were human 

 and therefore to be feared? Why did he permit us to gather about him almost 

 within arm's length? He is returning from a winter's visit in Cuba, Jamaica or 

 Haiti to his birthplace somewhere north of Wisconsin. Perhaps in this long 

 pilgrimage he has kept to the forests and to the air and has thus escaped acquaint- 

 ance with man. \\'hatever the reason, we felt flattered by his unusual confidence 

 or fearlessness. 



Not until each of us had had a good look at him did he part company with 

 us, and then he went deliberately, picking his way over the clusters of apple blos- 

 some, taking toll apparently, from the insects that were visiting the flowers or 

 living on their stems. 



As he flew farther and farther away from us the little white triangle on 

 the side of the wing was voted to be the very best field mark. On our way home 

 fortune favored us with a chance to see the female, and it was this same little 

 triangle that settled her identity. It was small and faint but unmistakable. The 

 back was olive rather than blue, and the under parts were a dull whitish or 

 yellowish. 



We had not the good fortune to hear the song of the male. We did not miss 

 much so far as music is concerned, for it is short and wheezy. Three notes only 

 constitute his repertoire. They are of the same pitch and may be represented by 

 the words "wheeze, please wheeze," the last one being drawled out about twice 

 as long as the other two and with the rising inflection. 



We renewed acquaintance with the red-winged blackbird, heard the scream 

 of the bluejay and the ringing whistle of the meadow lark from a neighboring 

 hillside and the rippling twitter of the chimney swift overhead. A Baltimore 

 oriole flashed past us like a rocket and the trip was brought to a very happy con- 

 clusion by a rose-breasted grosbeak that was picking at an old fruit cluster of a 

 staghorn sumac and by a small flock of cedar waxwings that were gleaning the 

 last of the berries on a mountain ash tree. 



We "bagged" thirty birds with our double barreled "opera guns" and voted 

 the trip a charming success. 



501 



