46 Birds of Lakeside and Prairie 



toward the west. A mile ahead we saw a house with a grove 

 back of it. "There, surely," we thought, "we shall find the 

 sugar-camp." We made the mile, and were told that we had 

 another one to go. We tramped fully two good city miles, 

 and found we were "not there yet." A man in a field was 

 opening a shock of corn, an operation that was being watched 

 with great solicitude by a dozen crows sitting on a fence a 

 hundred yards beyond. We asked him about the sugar-bush, 

 and were told that it wouldn't do us any good to go there, 

 beca«use it had been a poor season for sap and no trees had 

 been tapped. This was a disappointment to the doctor, who 

 had set his mind on sugar. It had its compensations, how- 

 ever, for our steps were turned aside into what proved to be 

 better bird-fields. We started the crows from their roosting- 

 place on the fence, and they flapped away across a stumpy 

 pasture, cawing their disapproval of our intrusion. Far away 

 above and beyond a little patch of woods we saw a moving 

 speck in the sky. The glasses showed us that it was a soar- 

 ing bird. I put it down at once for a great hawk. In a 

 moment I was ready to admit myself stupid, for my com- 

 panion, keener eyed than I, said, "Turkey-buzzard." 



Buzzards are common enough, as I afterward found, in 

 southern Indiana, and it was curious that we had not seen 

 them before. In a few minutes two more buzzards appeared, 

 and before long the three were circling directly over our 

 heads. From the moment that they had come into view I 

 had not seen a single stroke of the wing. The birds simply 

 rode on the air. There was something majestic in their soar- 

 ing flight. If the turkey-buzzard were as interesting a crea- 

 ture at close range as he is at a distance, there are few birds 

 whose acquaintance would be better worth cultivating. 



