A RARE BIRD. 203 



relief he went back to his work. By this time 

 the little tree which had seemed such a comfort- 

 able chair had undergone a change I felt as 

 if stretched upon the gridiron of St. Anthony. 

 Climbing clown stiffly, I kneeled behind the 

 brush and practiced focusing my glass on the 

 nest so that it would not catch the light and 

 frighten the bird* when out he flew from the 

 nest and sat down facing me in broad daylight ! 

 He did not say a word, but looked around ab- 

 stractedly, as if hunting for material. 



If he were so indifferent, perhaps it would be 

 safe to creep nearer. Following the paths trod- 

 den by the bare feet of the school children, and 

 spying and skulking, I crept into a good hiding- 

 place about a rod from the nest. The ground 

 was covered with dead leaves, and I saw a sug- 

 gestive round hole a very large rattlesnake 

 had been killed a few rods away the week before. 

 I covered the hole with my cloak and then sat 

 down on the lid nothing could come up while 

 I was there, at all events. 



The phainopepla worked busily for some time, 

 flying rapidly back and forth with material. 

 Then came the warning cry. I drew in my note- 

 book from the sun so that it should not catch 

 his eye, and waited. The hot air grew hotter, 

 beating down on my head. A big lizard wrig- 

 gled over the leaves, and I thought of my rattle- 

 snake. Then Billy sneezed in a forced way, as 



