52 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



with the little "saw-whet" within the limits 

 of Cambridge, and in sight of dozens of passers 

 on Concord turnpike, was a piece of unusual 

 luck. He was perched in a large willow about 

 thirty feet distant from the sidewalk, and ten 

 feet from the ground. As I jumped the fence 

 and approached him he stiffened himself, drew 

 his feathers close to his body, more than half 

 closed his eyes and pretended to be a speckled 

 brown and white stump of a limb. As I raised 

 a broken branch before his face, his big yellow 

 eyes opened wide, his wings quickly spread and 

 he fell forward upon them and flapped noiselessly 

 to a distant tree. 



Late on Friday afternoon, while traversing 

 the marshes between Spy Pond in Arlington 

 and Fresh Pond in Cambridge, I saw a flock 

 of seven blackbirds. They seemed to be follow- 

 ing up Alewife Brook towards the marshes 

 between Cambridge and Belmont. They were 

 beating against a high wind and flying too 

 high for me to be sure whether they were red- 

 winged blackbirds or rusty grackles. Early 

 Saturday morning I set out to find them, and 

 not long after sunrise I heard the familiar 

 " cong-ka-ree " of the redwings coming from 

 a swamp north of Fresh Pond. I saw three, 

 the one nearest me being a male, whose scarlet 

 and buff epaulets fairly blazed in the sunlight. 



