164 THE WILES OF A WARBLER. 



probably made up his mincl then and there, that 

 it should be his special business to keep us away 

 from his nest, for really that seemed to be his 

 occupation. No sooner did we set foot in the 

 woods than his sweet song attracted us. We 

 followed it, and he, carelessly as it seemed, but 

 surely, led us on around and around, always in 

 a circle without end. 



My fellow bird - student became fairly be- 

 witched, and could not rest till she found his 

 nest. For my part I gave up the warbler fam- 

 ily long ago, as too small, too uneasy, too fond 

 of tree-tops, to waste time and patience over. In 

 these her native woods, my comrade led in our 

 walks, and the moment we heard his tantalizing 

 z-z-z she turned irresistibly toward it. I fol- 

 lowed, of course, happy to be anywhere under 

 these trees. 



One morning she tracked him inch by inch till 

 she was fortunate enough to trace him to a wild 

 corner in the woods given up to a tangle of 

 fallen trees, saplings, and other growth. She 

 went home happy, sure she was on the trail. 

 The next day we turned our steps to that quarter 

 and penetrated the jungle till we reached a mod- 

 erately clear spot facing an impenetrable mass 

 of low saplings. There we took our places, to 

 wait with what patience we might for the blue. 



Our lucky star was in the ascendant that day. 



