Mar. 1891. J 



AND OOLOGIST. 



37 



Warblers, Magnolia Warbler, Juiicd and 

 Wrens. An Acadian owl was hearci on both 

 nights. 



As the first rays of the morning sun flecked 

 the tree tops at 3..50 a.m., on June 29tli, I 

 threw off the blankets and got out for a breath 

 of the pure, crisp mountain air, wliicli soon 

 gave me a desire for sometbing more sat^ 

 isfying. 

 Our menu was composed about as follows: 

 Hreakfast. 

 H.anl Tack, Fried Pork, Coffee. 

 Lunch. 

 Raw Pork, Hard Tack, Water. 



SCPPER. 



Coffee, Fried Pork, Hard Tack. 



Unless the rod or gun turned in sometbing 

 to help out. But tliis never got beyond 

 supper. 



But this morning, being .Sunday, I thought 

 I would give my companions who were 

 still snoring under the blankets, a change. 

 So I put some hard tack to soak in a birch 

 bark dish, and fried out some pork, in which 

 I afterwards fried the crackers; and let me 

 tell you, friends, that "lobscouse" is not to 

 be sneezed at, when made with Johnson's 

 Educators (wliich, by the way, is the best 

 and lightest variety of wheat nourishment 

 that I have found) and good country corn-fed 

 pork. .Vt least I judged so, from tlie manner 

 in which it disappeared when my companions 

 got at it. I had to make some more for 

 myself. F. A. Butix. 



(To be c^mtiiuietl.) 



An Oologist on Skates. 



Well, why not ? Is it not on record that 

 the Crossbill breeds in winter in Maine and 

 elsewhere? And does not our own Bubo cover 

 its two snowy spheres in February. The field 

 work of an intelligent collector need not all 

 be a matter of summer weather and climbing- 

 irons and rubber boots, and a chapter from 

 my present winter exi)erience may lead more 

 tlian one reader to a novel pleasure, and to 

 add a pair of skates to his regular outtit. 



It was while skating around Ciuinebaug 

 Lake and Old Killingly Reservoir, that I found 

 the homes of the only two pairs of Great 

 Horned Owls that I now know to be breeding. 

 A series of three sets of Red Shouldered 

 Hawk's eggs are from a nest I first espied 

 when skating on Spaulding's dam, one mile 

 above Norwich. 



While skating on Yantic Cove, back of 



Christ Church, Norwich, I thought I saw a 

 Saw-whet go into a hole overhanging the east 

 bank. Now, Ice King skates are not the best 

 climbuig-irons for a smooth beech ti-ee, hut 

 I managed to 'swarm' up with my novel 

 creepers and pull out a pair of Mottled Owls 

 in the ruddy plumage. This hole, which 

 should hold eggs soon, could only be seen 

 from the ice. Twentj' rods above the beech 

 grove, my attention was called to an apple tree 

 still hokling some dry and withered fruit on 

 which some birds bad been at work throwing 

 the rotten pulp over quite an area of ice. 

 The next morning I skated cautiously up to 

 the tree again and, as I suspected, had the 

 pleasure lA seeing a flock of Pine Grosbeaks 

 tearing the apples into pieces in order to feed 

 upon the seeds. Many ' likely "-looking swamps, 

 which in spring are practically inaccessible 

 from mud and water, are now when frozen 

 easily gone over; and it was from the ice in 

 Preston and Lantern Hill cedar-swamps that 

 I found, among the knarled and interlacing 

 rhododendron, the low, broken trees from 

 which, later, I took my first two sets of Fish 

 Hawks' eggs. 



During the montlis of January and February, 

 the present winter, I have been in Windham 

 County, skating around the many lakes, ponds 

 and "reservoirs" in and about the town of 

 Killingly. My object was to slowly coast along 

 the shores and, peering carefully into the decid- 

 uous woods which usually fringe the banks, to 

 note all the old nests of rapacious birds. The 

 exact location of the most promising nests have 

 been marked down in a pocket chart, and in 

 .\pril, when I come up with my climber, I hope 

 by quick driving and a minimum of search to 

 seciu-e some nice sets of eggs. 



While skimming through the frequent light 

 snows on the surface of the ice, I have recorded 

 the tracks of all om- fur-bearing animals, and 

 also of most of our winter birds — jays and 

 crows largely predominating. One small gi-oup 

 of evergreens has been the home of nine Blue 

 Jays all winter. This number has not varied. 

 On the pine-covered points, trending out into 

 the ponds, the tracks of the giouse were often 

 so involved and intricate as to look like a 

 poultry yard after a snow-fall. Sly Ueynard 

 occasionally cut across the larger lakes, but this 

 year he could not delude any heavy hounds to 

 their death from thin ice. 



The sweeping trail of the Snowy Owl was not 

 uncommon in December. The only otter track 

 I ever saw was while skating near the inlet of 

 Gates' Pond, four miles below Norwich. It 



