THE OVEN-BIRD 71 



and then turns her speckled breast to see if you 

 are following. She walks very prettily, by far the 

 prettiest pedestrian in the woods. But if she 

 thinks you have discovered her secret, she feigns 

 lameness and disability of both leg and wing, to 

 decoy you into the pursuit of her. This is the 

 oven-bird. The last nest of this bird I found was 

 while in quest of the pink cypripedium. We sud- 

 denly spied a couple of the flowers a few steps 

 from the path along which we were walking, and 

 had stooped to admire them, when out sprang 

 the bird from beside them, doubtless thinking 

 she was the subject of observation instead of 

 the rose-purple flowers that swung but a foot 

 or two above her. But we never should have 

 seen her had she kept her place. She had found 

 a rent in the matted carpet of dry leaves and pine 

 needles that covered the ground, and into this 

 had insinuated her nest, the leaves and needles 

 forming a canopy above it, sloping to the south 

 and west, the source of the more frequent sum- 

 mer rains. 



