98 THE WILES OF A WARBLER 



strange plant which looked as if it had fallen 

 there. But on trying to take it off, it seemed 

 to cling with claws of steel, and was torn 

 before it could be removed. It had already 

 fastened itself for life. 



That my coy little moss-dweller was a 

 parula I felt sure ; it was only necessary to 

 identify her positively. That sounds like 

 an easy task, and so I expected to find it, 

 but it required days of hard work, of pa- 

 tient, tireless watching to accomplish. The 

 breast of the bird was all I could see dis- 

 tinctly, for the nest was fifteen feet from the 

 ground, but that lacked the band across 

 which is usually to be found on the parula, 

 or if there it was so faint in color that I 

 could not see it in the hasty glimpses I could 

 get. 



I was particularly careful about identi- 

 fication, because when she stood half in the 

 nest she looked purely black and white 

 mottled, the effect on her white sides and 

 dark back of the shade of the mossy veil be- 

 hind which she stood. One needs always to see 

 in more than one light, when identification is 

 doubtful. The bird had to go behind a veil 



