THE OSPREY. 41 
stood in a neglected orchard, in a surprisingly public 
situation. It was surrounded by four highways, all within 
two or three hundred feet, on which were five inhabited 
houses. A little further away were dozens more houses. 
Noisy trains and electric cars could be heard in the 
immediate vicinity. Beneath the tree where I was sitting, 
empty biscuit boxes and newspapers of recent date told of 
the popularity of this spot for picnic purposes. A large 
“For Sale” sign, not a stone’s throw from the Osprey 
tree, added the final note of incongruity. A well-worn 
footpath passed close by the tree; and I think it speaks 
well for the American public that the nest had not been 
robbed. 
While it was still light I slipped out from under the far 
side of my tree, without disturbing the Osprey, and made 
a short survey of the surrounding country, in order to 
ascertain if there were other Ospreys’ nests near by, and to 
assure myself that I had selected the best for photographic 
purposes. I saw no new nests within a radius of half a 
mile or so, and a lad whom I questioned said that most 
of the birds had their homes considerably further inland. 
He said that the nest I had found was the closest of all 
to the water. His statements were supported by the 
flight of Ospreys in the air, at least two of which I saw 
carrying fish directly inland. The nearest nests he knew 
of, he said, were one in the midst of a wood, and one on a 
telegraph pole about a mile down the railway track. 
Returning to my nest about 7.15, I found that the female 
Osprey was still standing on the perch where I had left her, 
and the male was on another snag nearer the nest. Upon 
my approach he took wing, carrying off with him a fair- 
sized (headless) fish, which he had evidently caught since 
I saw him. The female remained on her perch, and 
allowed me to get under the oak tree without flying. But 
she could evidently see me through the interstices of the 
leaves, and would whistle querulously whenever I made any 
conspicuous movement during my informal supper, and 
