Vol. XVIII 



1901 



J WiDMANN, A Visit to Audubon's Birthplace. I C C 



former landing place on the lake. This avenue is shaded by two 

 rows of immense live-oaks, twelve on each side. Between every 

 two trees and in a line with their trunks there stood at Audubon's 

 time a cabin for two families having one big chimney in common ; 

 one of these chimneys is still standing, but all others are only a 

 heap of disintegrating bricks, showing the transitoriness of all 

 earthly things. Man's handiwork is all changed, but Nature's 

 grandeur is the same ; the trees, the lake, and the waves that 

 strike its shore ; the Mocker sings as cheerfully as it did then, 

 and the Vultures soar as dreamily as of old. 



While coming through the wild pasture land we noticed but few 

 birds. Several Song Sparrows emerged from their recesses, 

 looked with astonishment at the intruder, and disappeared. A 

 small troop of Grass Finches {Poa'cetes graminens) was surprised, 

 feeding in the road, and a number of Flickers started from the 

 ground. A Sparrow Hawk kept moving from tree to tree, and 

 the wandering voices of Goldfinches and Purple Finches were in 

 the air. Of especial interest was the meeting with a troop of 

 Common Crows {Corviis americanus), which are not abundant so 

 far south, at least not at this date. Scattered over the cheerless 

 waste were several Mockingbirds and Shrikes, all earnestly 

 engaged in the pursuit of game. Perched on the top of a stout 

 weed and in a hawk-like attitude, scrutinizing the surrounding 

 ground, they resemble each other very much. Both whip their 

 tail, and both spring upon their prey in the identical manner, and 

 also in their musical reveries the listener is struck with a strange 

 semblance. 



After 9 A. M. the sun is pretty warm on the Gulf Coast, even on 

 the first of March, and when the Pine Warbler's song reaches our 

 ear from the adjacent woods, we can not resist the temptation to 

 invade the privacy of its domain. Before we enter the woods we 

 cast another look upon the scene we leave : a scene of dreary 

 desolation, whose gloom neither the sun's rays nor the arrival of 

 a hungry drove of White-bellied Swallows can dispel. And to 

 complete the dismal picture a number of Turkey Vultures are 

 drawing ominous circles through the blue above. While the 

 woods in the watery region near the lake are bare deciduous trees of 

 many kinds, those farther back on drier soil are made up chiefly 



