372 LAST DAYS ON THE KUREIKA 



without doubt by far the best time for birds. From sun- 

 rise to noon they were plentiful enough in the forest : 

 the latter half of the day they were more rarely seen, and 

 were much more silent. I secured another Siberian pipit, 

 and found a pair of dark ouzels, evidently breeding. 

 They showed so much uneasiness at our presence that 

 we made a more careful search for the nest, and soon 

 found one which I have no doubt was theirs. It was an 

 exact duplicate of our song-thrush's nest, and apparently 

 ready for the first egg. I discovered afterwards, however, 

 that it yet required a final lining of dry grass. 



After breakfast I had an unsuccessful search for the 

 nest of the Arctic willow-warbler. The bird was common 

 enough, but evidently it had not begun to breed. Often 

 four or five of them would be singing together at the 

 same time. As they did not arrive until a fortnight after 

 the other three willow-warblers, we might fairly expect 

 them to be late breeders. 



In the afternoon I had a siesta, and in the evening 

 strolled out again into the forest. I walked for a mile 

 without shooting anything but a hazel-grouse, when 

 suddenly a thrush flew off its nest with a loud cry, and 

 alighted in a tree within easy shot. I glanced at the 

 nest, snapped a cap at the bird with one barrel, and 

 brought her to the ground with the second. I picked 

 her up, expecting to find a redwing, but was surprised 

 and delighted to find the rare dark ouzel. The nest was 

 in a slender spruce, about fifteen feet from the ground, 

 on an horizontal branch, some six inches from the stem. 

 I lost no time in climbing the tree, and had the pleasure 

 of brineingf down the nest with five eQ-o-s in it — so far as 

 I knew the first authenticated eggs of this species ever 

 taken. The nest was exactly like that of a fieldfare, and the 

 eggs resembled small, but richly-marked blackbird's eggs. 



