160 Brewster on the Prothonotary Warbler. 



or six inches in height by three or four in diameter. When the 

 cavity is shallow, it is often only scantily lined with moss and a 

 few fine roots. The deeper nests are of course the more elaborate 

 ones. One of the finest specimens before me is composed of moss, 

 dry leaves, and cypress-twigs. The cavity for the eggs is a neatly 

 rounded, cup-shaped hollow, two inches in diameter by one and 

 a half in depth, smoothly lined with fine roots and a few wing- 

 feathers of some small bird. 



The number of eggs constituting a full set varies to an unusual 

 degree ; two nests were found, each of which contained seven eggs, 

 while in another instance a nest, which from its position could not 

 possibly have been molested, had only one, nearly ready to be 

 hatched. Out of fifteen sets of eggs taken, two included seven 

 eggs; three, six; three, five; four, four; two, three; and one, one 

 egg. The average number is probably five or six. Seventeen 

 specimens before me agree pretty well in size and general shape, 

 nearly all being noticeably blunted at the smaller end. Two 

 selected as extreme examples measure respectively .73 X .59 and 

 .67 X .58. The ground-color is clear, lustrous white, with a high 

 polish. Eggs from different sets vary considerably in markings, 

 but two types of coloration seem to prevail. In one, spots and 

 dottings of dull brown with faint submarkings of pale lavender are 

 generally and evenly distributed over the entire surface. In the 

 other, bold blotches of bright reddish brown are so thickly laid on, 

 especially about the larger ends, that the ground-color is in some 

 instances almost entirely obscured. 



In the hope of presenting to the reader's mind some slight idea 

 of the general character and surroundings of the locality where the 

 Prothonotary Warblers were found breeding in the greatest abun- 

 dance, I close with a brief description of a visit, on May 11, to 

 the Cypress Swamp. Towards the middle of the afternoon we 

 reached Beaver Dam Pond, and embarked in an old weather- 

 beaten dugout. Our guide, a half-breed Indian and a most accom- 

 plished woodsman, took his station in the stern, and with a vigorous 

 shove upon his long push-pole sent the frail craft well out into the 

 pond. Before us stretched a long, narrow sheet of water hemmed 

 in on every side by an unbroken wall of forest trees. Around the 

 margin grew a fringe of button-bushes, with a sprinkling of tall 

 slender willows, while behind and above them towered the light- 

 green feathery crests of numerous cypresses. The low shores were 



