May, 1889.] 



a:n^d oologist. 



it was to come so far and expect to find the 

 Gi'osbeaks in tlie same woods, I saw a small 

 flock in an orchard, feeding on the seeds of 

 frozen apples. They were very still and un- 

 less a sharp lookout was kept one would be 

 apt to pass them by unnoticed. The birds 

 when alarmed would utter a faint whistle and 

 fly into some evergreen woods where it was 

 impossible to find them, as they would conceal 

 themselves in the densest jjart of a tree, close to 

 the main stem. After a little while they would 

 venture out again to feed, and the snow be- 

 neath the trees was covered with pulp from 

 the apples opened by their powerful bills. I 

 was fortunate in securing two handsome males 

 and three females. A. H. B. Jordan. 



Willsborough, N. Y. 



Wanderings. No. 3. 



While sitting at my desk this evening, with 

 my brain fairly aching from the labors of the 

 day, I picked up my "Field Notes" to carry 

 myself away from the noise and racket of the 

 city, and imagine myself among the woods, 

 where I have often in my earlier days found 

 rest and relief, my eye fell upon a bit of pencil 

 sketch, which carried me back to a day now 

 long gone. 



It was in the early part of May, 1883, a 

 perfect spring day, in the noted old town of 

 Braintree, Mass., that I found myself in the 

 far southeast corner of the town near a small 

 sheet of water known as Cranberry Pond, 

 which lies closely surrounded by hills, and 

 bosomed in the shades of the thick forests 

 which surround it. 



My companion was one unknown to the 

 scientific world at large but, for all that, a true 

 scientist, an enthusiastic collector, and a firm 

 friend of the truest color, Mr. Geo. C. Gates, 

 one of the first of my companions in the field, 

 and now some time since gone "the way of all 

 mankind" by that scourge of New England, 

 consumption. 



While eagerly scanning the high trees for 

 Hawks' nests, and climbing the tall pines, only 

 to find untenanted nests, we at last saw a bird 

 dart off among the trees and following up the 

 trace found a nest in one of the most difficult 

 trees that it has ever been my misfortune to 

 tackle; but the surroundings of the place almost 

 made us forget our errand. It was a tall, slim 

 white pine, without a limb for twenty feet, then 

 succeeded by small twigs and crowned by a 

 coronet of boughs. It stood in a glade by the 

 side of a brook, one of those places which 



makes one feel like shutting his eyes and in 

 imagination hear the voices of Nature whisper 

 their secrets to us. As a friend of mine has 

 said, "He would like to hear the 'Messiah' 

 sung here. ' ' 



I was awakened from a reverie by a sigh 

 from my comrade, who awoke to business 

 before I did, and as usual we drew lots to see 

 who would climb the tree. He drew the ticket 

 and commenced his ascent. It was a tough 

 job, and many times I held my breath, as he 

 slipped back a few feet. But pluck conquered, 

 and his shout proclaimed a prize ; but it turned 

 out to be a solitary egg of the Cooper's Hawk. 

 Owing to the difficulty of getting there, it was 

 deemed advisable to take this egg, and dis- 

 posing of his prize in what he considered a safe 

 place, he commenced his descent. When 

 about thirty-five feet from the ground, in at- 

 tempting to get over a dead limb, his hold 

 slipped and he commenced to slide down, 

 finally falling away entirely and bringing up 

 on the ground with a thud that made my blood 

 chill with fear. But what was my surprise, on 

 rushing up to him, to have him open his eyes, 

 put his hand to his mouth and produce the egg, 

 with the laconic remark, " Got him, old man." 

 To say that I was relieved was putting the 

 thing mildly, for I expected to see him carried 

 off on a stretcher, instead of which he walked 

 out, but was pretty lame for some time. 



Since that time I have "shinned" up many 

 a difticult tree and fallen — well, more than 

 once; but I think I shall never forget the feel- 

 ing of dread as I saw him before me on the 

 gi'ound, nor the expression of his face as he 

 looked up with his " got him." 



F. A. Bates. 



Food of the Shrike. 



I have taken great pleasure in reading the 

 discussion concerning the food of the Shrike. 

 I have also noticed a good deal about this 

 species catching the English Sparrow in and 

 around the suburbs of our large cities from 

 various local newspapers. We also have reliable 

 accounts of various writers where these birds 

 have taken up their winter quarters in large 

 parks, and have made a very noticeable depreci- 

 ation in numbers of this nuisance. 



As for myself I have never seen the Shrike 

 capture, nor have I ever examined a stomach 

 that contained a bird of this species. 



Following I give a list of the stomachs that I 

 have examined, all of which were taken from 

 birds shot in East Hartford, Conn., where it is 



