BROWSINGS IN OTHER FIELDS. 235 
perch to perch! But the rain did not descend 
rapidly enough for several of them; and so, in order 
to drench their plumage more thoroughly, they 
plunged into the leafy bushes growing in their apart- 
ment, and crept about over and through the sprinkled 
foliage until their feathers were well rinsed. 
An interesting bird was the yellow-headed _ black- 
bird, which is a resident of some of our Western 
States, but which does not deign even to visit my 
neighborhood. His whole head and neck are 
brilliant yellow, as if he had plunged up to his 
shoulders in a keg of yellow paint, while the rest of 
his attire is shiny black. He utters a loud, shrill 
whistle, quite unlike any sound produced by his 
kinsmen, the crow blackbird and the red-wing. He 
seemed to feel quite at home in his cage with several 
other species of birds. 
Many atime I have thought I heard a tumult of 
bird song in the fields or woods, but at the Zoo I 
was greeted with a perfect din from the throats of 
more than two dozen indigo-birds, all singing simul- 
taneously. ‘They simply drowned out every other 
sound in the neighborhood when they chimed in 
the chorus. Even the goldfinch, doing his level 
best, could not be heard until there was a lull in 
the shriller music. In the same enclosure were the 
bluebirds and robins. My pity went out to one of 
the robins, which was trying to build a nest, but 
could not find a proper site nor the right kind of 
material. She would pick up a bunch of fibres and 
strings from the ground, fling them on the window- 
