304 LAND BIRDS 
earth drinks eagerly. His song ended, he floats down. 
again, alighting with the easy grace of a mocker, and is 
at rest all but his quivering wings. He seems to squat 
rather than perch and is happiest when flying. 
It was rare good luck that showed me the only Soli- 
taire’s nest I ever found. A rolling stone and a mis- 
step landed me flat on my back directly 
in front of it and within a foot of the 
water’s edge. At first I did not realize 
my good fortune, because I 
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did not recognize the nest 
or the young. It was a 
bulky affair, under a huge 
boulder which lay in such a 
position that only two inches 
intervened between the earth 
and the overhanging stone ; 
and in this low-roofed crey- 
ey oe ee ice the Solitaire had gath- 
SOLITAIRE. ered more than a quart of 
i ine Tee niblstl grass, weed stems, shredded 
1 closed over the scene.” bark, pine needles, rootlets, 
and dead leaves. These 
seemed to lie in a thick mat as if driven there by the 
wind, and, but for the hasty exit of a bird, I should 
never have looked at them. 
Examination revealed a foundation of larger weed 
stems and a neatly moulded inner nest. In it were five 
feathered nestlings. They were much browner in tone 
than the adults and were beautifully mottled on the 
