72 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. iS-No. 5 



remarked that I was a lunkhead at first, but 

 we concluded that our inner boy would 

 notify us when it was lunch time, and plunged 

 into the woods. 



For half an hour we tramped through the 

 wet grass and saw never an old nest even ; 

 then through the mist I spied a big mass of 

 something in a tree a good ways off. I 

 thought I did at least, and pointed it out to 

 Charley, but it was so indistinct that we both 

 became doubtful about its being a nest and 

 hesitated about going after it, for it looked 

 a good half a mile away. It was the only 

 thing we had seen, though, and we started 

 for it, and it apparently started for us at the 

 same time, for we approached it with aston- 

 ishing rapidity. We found that the fog and 

 mist gave the distance effect, afterwards. It 

 ifas a nest, and when we got within about 

 300 feet of it a huge bird suddenly reared 

 itself on the edge, took a brief look at us, 

 spread its wings, and with three flaps it had 

 disappeared among the trees. But we had 

 seen it. " A hawk ! " Charley yelled, and in 

 a moment we were at the foot of the tree, 

 dancing with delight. It was an awful tree 

 to climb when we came to look at it ; a large 

 Cottonwood with the nest a good 60 feet 

 from the ground, and not a limb below 50 

 feet. That didn't bother us much, for we were 

 both good climbers, but what did bother us 

 was the action of that Hawk. According to 

 the books we had read she should have cir- 

 cled around with shrill cries, and occasionally 

 darted fiercely at our heads ; but instead of 

 that, she had apparently gotten disgusted with 

 the climate and gone South. That was 

 what Charley suggested as he wrung the 

 water out of his hat so it would not drip 

 down his neck. I suggested that she had 

 gone after other Hawks to help fight us, and 

 Charley said perhaps I had better take his 

 hatchet up with me. (I forgot to say that 

 as I had found the nest I had the privilege 

 of climbing it. What idiots boys are ! And 

 yet, now I think of it, I saw grown men not 

 long ago fighting for tickets that would en- 



title them to walk six miles in a procession, 

 carrying a greasy and ill-smelling torch, to 

 celebrate a victory that did not mean half 

 so much personally as that nest did to us.) 

 I thought that the box and ball of string 

 were enough to carry, and dispensed with 

 the hatchet and trusted to Charley to scare 

 the Hawk off with sticks if she came back, 

 and up the tree I went with a heart beating 

 high with hope. 



It was a terrific climb, for the tree was 

 wet and slimy, and I clawed down dirt into 

 my eyes, and my feet refused to take hold, 

 so that I was just about breathless when I 

 reached the nest and peered over the edge ; 

 but all that I had left came out in a wild 

 yell of joy, for there were three eggs in the 

 nest that looked as big as moons. " Three 

 beauties," I called to Charley, and he im- 

 mediately fell to executing a startling war 

 dance, while I sat on a limb and s\nt out 

 the dirt and waved my hat. 



I can feel yet the crawly feeling I had as 

 I wrapped the eggs and lowered them in the 

 box. I think that if they had fallen by any 

 chance I would have hit the ground before 

 they did. When I reached the bottom 

 Charley had stopped standing on his head 

 and was blowing one of them. Then we 

 concluded that the book man was not a 

 falsifier, for those birds were nearly grown. 

 Charley said that the first one stuck his wing 

 out of the hole and waved it, but I didn't 

 believe that. We blew ourselves purple in 

 the face, but got very poor results ; then we 

 bent pins and straws and did a litde better 

 (neither of us had ever seen an embryo hook 

 then) ; but after nearly half an hour's work 

 we gave it up and packed the eggs up with 

 the bigger part of the innocents still in them. 

 We looked at them lovingly as they lay in 

 the box, — as large as duck eggs, but nearly 

 round, two finely specked with brown and 

 the other a dirty white. (Western Red- 

 tails, we found afterwards from that book.) 

 Then we shook hands heartily and started 

 out again. 



