ANOTHER TRAGEDY 77 



The nest was just off the road in a spruce- 

 tree, perhaps six feet from the ground, and 

 in this case, too, we were obliged to sit nearer 

 than I felt would be agreeable to the birds. 

 Two or three hours we retained our places, 

 and after some hesitation the birds did re- 

 turn to feed the little family. 



We did not try them too long, and I left 

 feeling very happy and hoping that now I 

 should really know the bird. 



Alas and alas! the next day my friend 

 brought me the nest ! She had found it 

 empty excepting one dead nestling. This lit- 

 tle unfortunate was well feathered and would 

 have flown in a few days. We suppose the 

 mischief was done by a black snake, which 

 kills by constriction and often leaves part 

 of his victims in the nest. 



And so ends my three years' quest, but the 

 subject is not closed. This year again I have 

 heard his voice. Beyond the far Kocky 

 Mountains, on the shore of the Pacific 

 Ocean, the same song, the same eager con- 

 versation across the tree-tops saluted me, 

 annihilating distance and transporting me 

 instantly to the dear old rocks and woods 



