40 



JOUHNAL OF iMAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



of some species not nny. Of the larger 

 birds nientionecl we should be fortunate 

 to find them represented by a single in- 

 dividual. Few but those who have lived 

 amid these scenes can realize how fast 

 the birds are passing from our coasts. 



Where once our shores and waters 

 teemed with different species, few remain 

 to remind us of the thousands which 

 annually visited our coasts. And now 

 man demands the Gulls. All who have 

 visited our coast are acquainted with 

 these beautiful birds. A few seasons 

 of slaughter like the one now nearly 

 passed, and only a few will remain to 

 lend their presence to the storms which 

 spend their fury on our coast. 



Black and White Warbler. 



(MNIOTILTA VARIA) 



Read before the Maine Ornithological Society 

 at Brunswick, Dec. 27, 1899. 



I have lodg thought that I would 

 write my experience with this handsome 

 and interesting little AVarbler and creep- 

 er combined, for it is a true creeper in 

 every sense of the word, flitting from 

 tree trunk to tree trunk, and running up 

 and down in his search for food. 



My observations do not extend out- 

 side the limits of my native town, Liver- 

 more. I have long watched this bird 

 and wondered where its nest might be, 

 for I have been a lover of the birds for 

 many years. O for one look at the nest 

 and eggs or young of Mniotilta varia, 

 and my happiness would be complete, 

 and that time came at last, and well do 

 I remember that day — June 9th, 1897 — 

 that day will go down in history with 



me. It was a warm and sunny day. 

 Bright and early I was strolling through 

 woods and across meadows, note book 

 in hand. The land was alive with bird 

 life from the Broad Winged Hawk, cir- 

 cling high above my head, to the littU- 

 Chickadee at my feet. Has not our 

 Maker made all things beautiful? None 

 but the true lover of birds can realize 

 the great beauty of this world 



But I am writing of dainty Black and 

 White Warblers. I had walked several 

 miles and at last came to a small pond. 

 I obtained a boat and paddled around 

 near the shore and observed many nests 

 of Catbirds, Kingbirds and other species 

 and at last leaving the boat, struck out 

 for a large woods not far from the west 

 shore of the pond. Coming to a large 

 stone wall at the edge of the woods 

 where the tornado of July ord, 1892, had 

 uprooted many trees and felled them 

 across the wall. I climl)ed on to the body 

 of a large rock maple, and walked down to 

 the large heap of I'oots and dirt torn 

 from the ground. As I leaped to the 

 ground a small bird flew almost into my 

 face. From where she came I could not 

 tell, but that she had a nest near I was 

 certain. I dared not move for fear of 

 stepping on the nest, but stood and 

 looked in every direction. What was 

 that bunch of leaves in that small open- 

 ing in the dirt near the foot of the maple 

 roots, on the south side, about one foot 

 from the ground, and what was that 

 small bird flitting from tree to tree over 

 my head? I took one step and was 

 looking at the nest and five tiny eggs 

 and mother-bird. My heart was filled 

 with joy, for I wus gazing upon my first 

 nest of the Black and White Warbler. 

 In a moment I was on my knees beside 

 the nest, note book and pencil in hand. 



