“TI think I know that bird,” said Mr. Wing. 
““T believe I have met him before,’ and he 
frowned at some recollection. Then he went 
into the house and began to look through the 
long rows of books his father had owned, but 
which now were seldom read. He kept search- 
ing until he found Wilson’s “American Orni- 
thology.” He took this book down to see what 
it said about the duck hawk’s nesting habits. 
He soon found that a man named Pennant was 
quoted as saying: “In the breeding season, the 
duck hawk retires to the recesses of the gloomy 
swamps, in the tall trees of which it constructs 
its nest and rears its young.” This had been 
written a very long time ago when people did 
not know as much about birds as they do now, 
but Mr. Wing never doubted that the statement 
was correct. 
Near the back of his large estate was a thick 
swamp covering eight or ten acres. The next 
day, following out his orders, the superintendent 
took four men, including an expert tree climber, 
and went to the swamp to hunt for the duck 
hawk’s nest. They cut their way through 
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