THE PASSING OF THE BIRDS. 191 
again, and the only bird to be found was 
one pheebe! Within half a mile of the spot, 
however, I came upon at least three goodly 
throngs, including scarlet tanagers (all in 
yellow and black), black-throated blue war- 
blers, pine warblers, olive-backed and gray- 
cheeked thrushes, a flock of chewinks (made 
up exclusively of adult males, so far as I 
could discover), red-eyed vireos, one solitary 
vireo, brown thrashers, with more redstarts, 
a second Blackburnian, and a second black- 
and-yellow. Every company had its com- 
plement of chickadees. Of the morning’s 
forty species, thirteen were warblers; and 
of these thirteen, four were represented by 
one specimen each. For curiosity’s sake I 
may add that a much longer walk that after- 
noon, through the same and other woods, 
was utterly barren. Except for two or three 
flocks of white-throated sparrows, there was 
no sign whatever that the night before had 
brought us a “flight.” 
Autumnal ornithology may almost be 
called a science by itself. Not only are birds 
harder to find (being silent) and harder to 
recognize in autumn than in spring, but their 
movements are in themselves more difficult 
