BIRDS '-NESTING. 203 



But I am making slow headway toward finding 

 the bird's-nest, for I had set out on this occasion in 

 hopes of finding a rare nest the nest of the black- 

 throated blue-backed warbler, which, it seemed, with 

 one or two others, was still wanting to make the his- 

 tory of our warblers complete. The woods were ex- 

 tensive, and full of deep, dark tangles, and looking 

 for any particular nest seemed about as hopeless a 

 task as searching for a needle in a hay-stack, as the 

 old saying is. Where to begin, and how ? But the 

 principle is the same as in looking for a hen's nest : 

 first find your bird, then watch its movements. The 

 bird is in these woods, for I have seen him scores 

 of times, but whether he builds high or low, on the 

 ground or in the trees, is all unknown to me. That 

 is his song now " twe-twea-twe-e-e-a," with a pe- 

 culiar summer languor and plaintiveness, and issuing 

 from the lower branches and growths. Presently 

 we for I have been joined by a companion dis- 

 cover the bird, a male, insecting in the top of a 

 newly-fallen hemlock. The black, white, and blue 

 of his uniform are seen at a glance. His movements 

 are quite slow compared with some of the sylvinse. 

 If he will only betray the locality of that little dom- 

 icile where his plainly-clad mate is evidently sitting, 

 it is all we will ask of him. But this he seems in no 

 wise disposed to do. Here and there, and up and 

 down, we follow him, often losing him, and as often 

 refinding him by his song ; but the clew to his nest, 

 how shall we get it ? Does he never go home to see 



