Notes from Field and Study 



99 



The History of a Ruffed Grouse's Nest 



On April 17, 1910, a nest of the Ruffed 

 Grouse was found near my home in Con- 

 cord, Mass., by a nurse who was out 

 walking with some children. They noti- 

 fied me immediately, and I hastened to 

 examine the nest myself. It was carefully 

 concealed, being at the foot of a white 

 oak, about twenty yards from a lumber 

 road, and was partially roofed over by 

 a dead branch of white pine. At this time 

 there were three eggs in the nest. It 

 rained continuously for three days there- 

 after, and, as the eggs got a thorough 

 soaking, and no more were laid, I supposed 

 that the bird had deserted the nest. On 

 April 20, however, I was walking past the 

 nest when to my great surprise, the bird 

 flushed. At this time there were four eggs 

 in the nest. On the 24th there were six 

 eggs in the nest, and on the 30th, ten. 

 May 7, the bird finished her set of fourteen 

 eggs and began to incubate. On June 5, 

 nothing was left but fourteen neatly split 

 egg-shells, to tell the tale of fourteen 

 hardy little chicks following their mother 

 among the brush. — E. P. Warner, 

 Concord, Mass. 



A Rare Warbler 



April 27, last, remains to me a memor- 

 able day, for I had the good fortune to 

 see a beautiful male Cape May Warbler. 

 He stayed a short time among some pear 



and oak trees in our yard near the house. 

 He was not very shy, and frequently 

 uttered a thin, faint chip. This bird is 

 the first one of its species that I have 

 seen. — Edward S. Dingle, Siimmcrton, 

 S. C. 



The Notes of the Hermit Thrush 



In a grove of red cedars, in a sheltered 

 valley near Plainfield, fully twelve or 

 fifteen Hermit Thrushes spent the past 

 winter, finding an abundance of food in 

 the berries of the flowering dogwood. 



I have lately heard three distinct call- 

 notes from these birds, one, of course, the 

 familiar low, blackbird-like chuck. The 

 two other notes do not seem to be com- 

 monly known, at least to those familiar 

 with the bird only as a migrant. The first 

 is a simple, high-pitched whistle, rarely 

 loud ; the second, a curious, somewhat 

 nasal cry recalling the unmusical note of 

 the Veery. 



The Hermit Thrush seldom sings while 

 with us in the spring, and the song is so 

 low as to be inaudible if one is more than 

 a few yards from the singer. On March 

 19, I was agreeably surprised to hear four 

 or five of these thrushes singing through 

 most of the afternoon, though it was 

 raining at the time. The song of only 

 one bird, however, was of sufficient vol- 

 ume to be heard at any distance. — W. 

 DeW. Miller, Plainfield, N. J. 



