BIRDS'-NESTS 113 



tone that rang in the ear long afterward. The nest 

 was suspended to the fork of a small branch, as is 

 usual with the vireos, plentifully lined with lichens, 

 and bound and rebound with masses of coarse spider- 

 webs. There was no attempt at concealment except 

 in the neutral tints, which made it look like a 

 natural growth of the dim, gray woods. 



Continuing my random walk, I next paused in a 

 low part of the woods, where the larger trees began 

 to give place to a thick second-growth that covered 

 an old Barkpeeling. I was standing by a large 

 maple, when a small bird darted quickly away from 

 it, as if it might have come out of a hole near its 

 base. As the bird paused a few yards from me, 

 and began to chirp uneasily, my curiosity was at 

 once excited. When I saw it was the female 

 mourning ground warbler, and remembered that the 

 nest of this bird had not yet been seen by any 

 naturalist, that not even Dr. Brewer had ever 

 seen the eggs, I felt that here was something 

 worth looking for. So I carefully began the search, 

 exploring inch by inch the ground, the base and 

 roots of the tree, and the various shrubby growths 

 about it, till, finding nothing and fearing I might 

 really put my foot in it, I bethought me to with- 

 draw to a distance and after some delay return 

 again, and, thus forewarned, note the exact point 

 from which the bird flew. This I did, and, re- 

 turning, had little difficulty in discovering the nest. 

 It was placed but a few feet from the maple-tree, 

 in a bunch of ferns, and about six inches from the 



