50 



THE OSPREY. 



which clearly shows the lig-hts and 

 shadows, and the surrounding's of that 

 nesting- site. 



Of this pair of birds, the one was a 

 fine blue male; the mate being so pale a 

 wine-tinted brown that she might well 

 have passed for a ruddy example of the 

 other sex. 



The group of sloughs that extend into 

 the bend of the Red River of the North, 

 in this locality is bordered, on the side 

 next the river, by a line of marshes con- 

 taining open water, once the bed of a 

 river. This "roadway" lies on the-line-of- 

 marchof a very small colony of Franklin's 

 Gulls that nest somewhere in the "mus- 

 kags," or large open marshes to the 

 northeast. At one point along this 

 route, I have noted a wide-spread destruc- 

 tion of Grebe and Coot eggs, during the 

 current season. It may be that these 

 same predatory Gulls are responsible for 

 the late nesting of a pair of Marsh Hawks 

 that attracted my attention, on the after- 

 noon of June 20th, as I was crossing a wide 

 expanse of upland meadow to avoid the 

 quagmire of the roads. The male seemed 

 asearch for something, as he flew across 

 the meadows. Passing a bit of willow 

 copse he started his mate. Flying a few 

 hundred yards away, he dropped into the 

 midst of a hammock of willow and hazel, 

 only to reappear. The female followed 

 slowly, and went suddenly down into a 

 group of small hazels. Heading my 

 horse directly for the spot, I soon had 

 the satisfaction of rousing the bird from 

 her nest, made, almost entireh' of grass, — 

 and a greal deal of it, in an opening not — 

 two feet across, among small burr-oak 

 and hazel shrubs. Two eggs, nearly 

 globular, the one spotted with livid, the 

 other with pale cinnamon, throughout, 

 lay upon the flat nest. Proving well in- 

 cubated, and so a complete set, they were 

 taken, with but a feeble protest on the 

 part of both birds. 



Two days afterward, while locating 

 wild strawberries for our cook, among 

 the brushy stretches a mile or so north 

 of St. Vincent, I noted a female Marsh 

 Hawk sailing into my horizon. Follow- 

 ing her, ocularly, from force of habit, I 

 noticed a "manner" about her, and so 

 watched her critically. When about 

 sixty rods away, and almost at the edge 

 of the poplar belt, she went down sud- 

 denly, from a height of twenty feet into 



the brush, on a gentle slope, quite near a 

 bit of dry meadow. A friendly bush, in 

 line and near the spot, gave me a point 

 toward which I headed "Flora," and 

 drove across, regardless of intervening ob- 

 stacles. The female rose, while horse and 

 buggy were still twenty yards away, and 

 began the attack. A momentary search, 

 on foot, to avoid crushing, revealed a 

 nest quite like the last in structure and 

 location, containing, — one young, perhaps 

 two days old; one egg through which a 

 hooked beak was peering; and a third 

 progeny which was still /;/ oz'o. The 

 eggs were of the normal uncolored type 

 and shape. This may have been a second 

 set, after a molested first. 



But the most interesting Marsh Hawk 

 experience of the season, and of my life, 

 happened on the thirteenth of Jul}'. In 

 mid-afternoon of that day I was return- 

 ing from a pastoral trip, four miles up 

 the Red River, in a region quite elevated, 

 yet still fiat, a tract originally all brush- 

 land and willowy upland meadow. A 

 large pasture, densely grown with burr- 

 oaks, hazels and poison ivy, lay at my 

 left, as 1 rode. 



From far ahead and to the right, came 

 straight on, a male Marsh Hawk, a hun- 

 dred rods off when first I heard him. He 

 was chippering in a most alarming way, 

 but wherefore I could not imagine; until 

 suddenly, to the left and rear, his mate 

 began to pierce the air with angry cries. 

 Turning, I saw at a glance the situation, 

 a quarrel between two naturally quarrel- 

 some neighbors, the Marsh Hawk, and 

 that thorn-in-the-flesh, the Kingbird. 

 Their families, mayhap, were being 

 reared hardly a stone's throw apart; for 

 the Kingbird was evidently dead in earn- 

 est, and the Hawk bore the peevish air of 

 one who, were it prudent to do so, would 

 quickly yield to the inevitable. 



As the male Hawk hurried on still 

 cackling to his mate, the little enemy 

 turned upon ///;;/; and the female, released 

 from persecution, darted away, and liter- 

 ally tumbled into the "scrub." 



Hastily, I drove down the fence, 

 opposite the spot, as near as I could 

 judge; and was hurrying on, as best I 

 could, with one eye on the sign-bush and 

 the other alert to protect, from the ivy, 

 my own stumbling progeny; when I noted, 

 suddenly, to my chagrin, that the mother 

 hawk was already a-wing, and had in- 



