130 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 14-Ko. 9 



Wanderings, No. 5. 



While drifting about the woods during my 

 last vacation in the month of September, '88, 

 I came upon an old orchard of perhaps two 

 acres in extent, and here, wearied by several 

 hours of travel, I sat myself down beneath the 

 shade of an old "High Top Sweeting," and 

 while quenching my hunger and thirst with 

 its pleasant fruit a feeling of content, known 

 only to the vagrant naturalist when surrounded 

 by Nature's works, stole over me, and I lay 

 back with my head upon the stock of my gun, 

 and thought of the beings who now haunted 

 its trees and borders, and the people who 

 once inhabited it. 



This orchard, situated about six miles south 

 of Old Plymouth Rock, lies on a ridge of rolling 

 hills, completely surrounded by woods, and is 

 as entirely isolated as if it lay miles from 

 human habitation. 



Here, some one, perhaps a young man with 

 liope in his heart, and. a desire to provide a 

 home for himself and a loved one who should 

 soon accompany him in his travels through 

 life, by his own might carved a place out of 

 the high trees of this almost unbroken forest, 

 and formed an abiding place. And here, in 

 after days, their descendants, as children, 

 plucked the fruit from tliese self-same boughs, 

 and, as youth and maiden, wandered, oblivious 

 to all but their own thoughts, over this same 

 ground and rested beneath the shade in the 

 same spot now occupied by a dreaming tramp, 

 and listened to the voices of the birds and 

 insects which rose and fell in the warm Sep- 

 tember air brought to their ears, as now to 

 mine. 



These rolling hills and vales, once inhabited 

 by a hardy, happy race of people, are now left 

 to run to waste, visited oidy by the bird and 

 squirrel, who flit about the branches or run 

 over the ground and fences, or by the footsteps 

 of the hunter or a wanderer like myself. 



In the tree under which I now lie are the 

 deserted nests of a robin, a wood pewee, a 

 king bird, a woodpecker of some kind, and 

 this hollow in its trunk looks as if it might be 

 sometimes occupied by an owl. A little 

 farther on and another tree shows the nest of 

 a White-bellied Swallow, with its feathery 

 lining, and almost every tree shows some signs 

 of bird life. Such a place have I never seen 

 before, for here with no disturbance from the 

 hand of man, they live, build their homes, and 

 raise their young in peace and quietude. 



Scattered about through the entire town are 



similar patches of clearings, nearly all, how- 

 ever, occupied by houses in which dwell de- 

 scendants of the hardy Puritans, a people 

 rough and none too well educated, it is true, 

 but bearing beneath their rugged exteriors, 

 hearts as warm as occupies the bosom of any 

 mother, and a kindly nature that opens out to 

 a friend, and even to the chance stranger, with 

 a warmth unsurpassed by any class with whom 

 I have met. 



Sensitive to a degree, honest as the day is 

 long, many an liour have I spent listening to 

 their stories of sporting, hunting and tishing, 

 in days gone by, fighting the flames of the 

 wood fires which often wage over these sec- 

 tions, to save their homes, and often have they 

 directed me and even left their labors to show 

 me where to find the abiding place of some 

 bird, which it would have been hard for me t«) 

 otherwise locate. 



This entire region fairly teems with bird life, 

 and that, too, of the rarer varieties, seldom 

 met with in the more thickly settled portions. 

 Nearly every bogger's sand-pit holds its king- 

 fisher's hole. Parula Warbler's nests are 

 (jalore. The Ked-tail, Ptcd-shoulder, Cooper 

 and Sparrow Hawks inhabit the taller woods ; 

 the Great Horned, Screech, and Acadian Owls 

 nest in the deeper recesses of the glens, and, 

 if we will believe the natives, the Eagle raises 

 its brood somewhere around here. At least, 

 they are by no means uncommonly seen, sail- 

 ing over the ponds, or pluming themselves 

 upon some dead tree by the water's edge. And 

 I once almost persuaded myself that I had lo- 

 cated one of their nests, but investigation 

 failed to support my ideas. But I live in hopes, 

 for here, if anywhere in the section, are the 

 breeding places of these monaix-hs of the air. 



Well, I have been "wandering" in earnest 

 this time, and got lost in my mental trip while 

 lying under the shade of the old "High-top 

 Sweeting," and some time I will tell you how 

 I did really get lost here amongst the laby- 

 rinths of roads and paths which cross-section 

 this country. Frank A, Bates. 



Nesting of the Acadian Flycatcher at 

 Raleigh, N. C. 



Having had considerable success with the 

 Acadian Flycatcher {Empidonax acadicuK) I 

 thought it might interest some of the readers 

 of the O. & O. to hear my experiences. Not 

 having done much in finding sets of this bird 

 heretofore, although I had seen bushels of old 



