200 Brewster on the American Brown Creeper. 



attention to investigating the Creeper's breeding habits while on a 

 collecting trip to Lake Umbagog, Western Maine, in May and June 

 of the present year. During former seasons I had wasted much 

 valuable time in sounding old Woodpecker's holes and natural cavi- 

 ties about places where the birds were evidently nesting ; but, with 

 the right clew at last in my possession, I succeeded on this occasion 

 in finding quite a number of nests. In the belief that the subject 

 is not yet exhausted, I am induced to present the following ac- 

 count of my observations. 



Throughout the heavily timbered region bordering on Lake 

 Umbagog the Brown Creeper is of regular occurrence during the 

 breeding season. It is never an abundant species there, but each 

 square mile of suitable woodland is pretty sure to harbor a pair or 

 two, and in places along the lake shores, where numerous decaying 

 stubs form an outer fringe to sombre forests of spruce and fir, the 

 combination of favorable conditions attracts them in somewhat 

 greater numbers. Any considerable collection of these stubs is 

 nearly certain to afford one or more trees in just the right stage 

 of decay essential for nesting purposes, while the adjoining woodlands 

 offer the shade and seclusion so congenial to their solitary habits 

 during this season. It was in a locality of this character that the 

 first nest taken during the past season was found. Let me briefly 

 sketch the picture ere it fades. 



I had crossed the lake to a sheltered cove which opened an in- 

 viting way into the tangled forest. On either hand, heavily wooded 

 ridges sloped steeply down to the water's edge, cutting off the high 

 north-wind that was blowing over the lake outside, and the warm 

 sunshine lay upon a smooth basin that was seldom dimpled by even 

 a passing breeze. At its farther extremity, where a mossy bank rose 

 abruptly from the shore, graceful hemlocks laved the tips of their 

 drooping branches in the water, and tall firs and spruces looked 

 down upon the perfect reflection of their stiff, soldierly forms in the 

 mirror-like surface beneath. Here and there, where the land was 

 more level and the water flowed back among the trees, grim stubs, 

 many of them hung with streamers of the yellowish-gray Usnea 

 " moss," stood grouped about, adding to the picturesqueness of the 

 scene. 



These quiet little nooks abound about most of the Maine lakes, 

 and they are almost invariably well stocked with birds. The retire- 

 ment that they offer, coupled with the increased abundance of 



