WALKS ABOUT TALLAHASSEE. 213 



had its contrast; for a marsh hawk was 

 skimming over the field, while up in the 

 sky soared a pair of hen-hawks. 



In the wood, composed of large trees, both 

 hard wood and pine, I had found a group of 

 three summer tanagers, two males and one 

 female, the usual proportion with birds 

 generally, one may almost say, in the pair- 

 ing season. The female was the first of her 

 sex that I had seen, and I remarked with 

 pleasure the comparative brightness of her 

 dress. Among tanagers, as among negroes, 

 red and yellow are esteemed a pretty good 

 match. At this point, too, in a cluster of 

 pines, I caught a new song faint and list- 

 less, like the indigo-bird's, I thought ; and 

 at the word I started forward eagerly. 

 Here, doubtless, was the indigo-bird's south- 

 ern congener, the nonpareil, or painted bunt- 

 ing, a beauty which I had begun to fear I 

 was to miss. I had recognized my first 

 tanager from afar, ten days before, his voice 

 and theme were so like his Northern rela- 

 tive's ; but this time I was too hasty. My 

 listless singer was not the nonpareil, nor 

 even a finch of any kind, but a yellow- 

 throated warbler. For a month I had seen 



