The Birds and Poets 67 



hopped over to an adjacent limb, and scolded 

 me, with wings half spread and eyes glistening. 

 The male meanwhile kept violently darting down 

 to within an inch of my head, and making more 

 fuss than his mate. The courage and spirit of the 

 two birds was an inspiring sight. I took some pic- 

 tures of the nest with the mother bird half repos- 

 ing upon it, with her wings partially spread as if 

 ready to battle for her young if need be. I never 

 got a camera closer to a mother bird on the nest 

 than on this occasion. I was actually compelled 

 to back away some distance, to get the proper focus 

 for the picture. 



While the kingbird is thus aggressive and full 

 of spirit, I have never known him to be tyrannical, 

 in any proper sense, or even quarrelsome. 



The great-crested flycatcher is a rare summer 

 resident. I have seen this largest and finest of our 

 flycatchers in the deep woods along our rivers and 

 on the sand dunes at the south end of Lake Mich- 

 igan. About May 29, this year (1916) I saw a 

 number of them noisily flying about in old dead 

 tree tops as if they were mating. Their calls are 

 loud and clear, and some of their notes resemble 

 the whistle of the cardinal, and others sound very 

 much like the trilling tree-toad notes of the red- 

 headed woodpecker. But they are just enough 

 unlike either to attract attention and arouse one's 

 curiosity, and of course when the bird, (which is 

 larger than the cardinal, and something of the 

 same shape) is once seen, with its crest, and plain 



