26 Birds of Lakeside and Prairie 



mother bird was brooding the young when we reached the 

 place. I stood directly over her, one foot on either side of 

 the nest. She did not move, but she looked up at me with 

 an eye bright with fear. I sank to my knees. Mother love 

 held her chained to the nest. I put my hand down, and with 

 my forefinger gently stroked her back. She stood it for some 

 seconds, and then scuttled away, seeking to lead me from 

 her treasures by pretending to be crippled. I felt guilty 

 at bringing so much terror to that little homestead. The 

 bird I think soon gained heart, for as we reached the road 

 we saw her carrying food to the young. Eight days from 

 the afternoon that the young were hatched they were out of 

 the nest. Their growth it struck me was unprecedentedly 

 rapid. 



I found the lark sparrows breeding in the same pasture the 

 following year, and it was not until then that I heard the 

 male's full song. On this occasion my companion was a 

 musician, and one acquainted with the whole range of bird 

 notes. She pronounced the song to be superior in quality to 

 that of any other of the sparrow tribe. There was a treat 

 that spring afternoon for eye and ear. There was a blending 

 of color and song which it does not often fall to man's lot to 

 enjoy. In the heart of a small tree, as yet destitute of foli- 

 age, sat a flaming scarlet tanager, while forming a frame 

 about him were seven gorgeous goldfinches. Below the tree 

 the lark sparrow sang its sweet solo. 



I have found the American bittern along the Skokie 

 stretches during the nesting-season. That the bird rears its 

 young there I have no doubt. The race of the bittern in some 

 places, I fear, is nearly run. The jacksnipe shooters who 



