THE GOLDEN ORIOLE. 265 



without assistance. I therefore marked the 

 spot, and determined to get a long ladder a 

 little later and try and take it. The keeper 

 informed me that it was early yet for Orioles' 

 eggs, and so I left the nest for the last day of 

 my stay here. In the afternoon I went with 

 the keeper to the Pare de Marolles. We could 

 hear the Orioles, or Loriots, as the French call 

 them from their notes, singing loudly in the 

 recesses of the woods ; but the foliage was so 

 thick, and they kept so much to the tops of the 

 trees, that it was almost impossible to catch 

 sight of them. Their greenish-yellow feathers, 

 too, harmonized so well with the leaves, that it 

 rendered them still more difficult to see. 



" Following the direction of the notes, I con- 

 tinued to make my way through the underwood 

 as noiselessly as possible, peering through the 

 branches, and striving in vain to catch sight of 

 a bird. For a long time the sound seemed to 

 be as far away as ever, or, as I advanced it 

 receded. The sun was broiling hot, and the 

 exertion of forcing my way through the under- 



