292 Stanwood, The Black-throated Green Warbler. \j^^ 



In the afternoon I returned and found the fourth fledghng perched 

 on a flat rock in the sun. I attempted to return it to the nest, but 

 just as it touched the side it gave a loud chirp that frightened the 

 nestlings and the parent birds. The young dropped from the nest 

 into the dry beech leaves and dwarf cornel foliage; the old birds 

 were in a perfect frenzy. The mother bird poised herself in the 

 air between me and the young and chirped in great distress. I 

 decided to go at once without trying to explain my good intentions 

 further. 



The liquid prattle of young birds in the trees attracted me the 

 next morning. jSIoving cautiously in that direction, I was startled 

 by the loud scolding notes of the Black-throated Green Warbler. 

 There was not the slightest doubt that the bird recognized me as 

 her enemy of the day before. The little warblers were safe, and 

 apparently very hungry, in the treetops. 



May 25, 1908, I found two Black-throated Green Warblers 

 building in the swamp. They were gathering bits of fine grass 

 when I first noticed them, and flew to the fir where they were 

 beginning a nest, rather reluctantly depositing the bits of hay 

 with that foolish look birds assume when caught near the nest. 

 First they laid knots of spider's silk and little curls of white birch 

 bark in the shape of the nest, on the horizontal fork about midway 

 of a branch six feet long. Next bits of fine grass, a little usnea 

 moss, and cedar bark fibre. Both the male and female worked 

 on the nest, until observed, the female shaping it with the breast 

 each time they added a bit of material. Around the top were 

 carefully laid the finest gray spruce twigs. These were bound 

 together with masses of fine white spider's silk. The white curls 

 of birch bark, the much weathered twigs, the fluffy shining bands 

 and knots of spider's silk, made a very dainty looking structure. 

 After the first morning, I did not see the male about the nest. 

 As a general thing, I find that, if birds are observed building, the 

 male usually leaves his part of the work to the female. The lady 

 bird continued to shape the nest with her breast, turning around 

 and arovmd, as if swinging on a central pivot, just her beak and 

 tail showing above the rim. If I came too near, she stood up in 

 the nest as if to fly. If I withdrew to a respectful distance, say 

 three yards, she went on with her work of shaping the nest. On 



