MILL CREEK. 199 



Even better than my experience with the warblers 

 was the fact that while I was stooping over a little 

 spring that bubbled and sparkled among emerald moss- 

 es, down like an arrow came a wood-tattler and settled 

 scarcely six feet away. I turned my face towards it, 

 and the bird, while evidently much puzzled, could not 

 make up its mind as to what sort of a creature I was, 

 and remained at its post staring back at me. To pre- 

 serve such a cramped position for any length of time 

 was, of course, impracticable, and suddenly regaining 

 the perpendicular, my identity was revealed so abruptly 

 that for a moment the bird was helpless from fear ; but 

 as suddenly as it had been overcome with surprise, it 

 recovered its mental equilibrium and darted away. Not- 

 withstanding such a strange adventure on its part, the 

 tattler quickly returned to the very spot where it had 

 recently been sorely frightened. Its actions were all 

 peculiar. It did not bob its head and shoulders, as they 

 constantly do when on the meadows, but held its head 

 well up, trailed its wings and spread its short fan-like 

 tail, and in this strange fix ran in short circles about 

 the long grass, just beyond the moss-hidden spring. I 

 thought of a nest and commenced a careful search, 

 much to the annoyance of the nervous little tattler, that 

 now kept twenty paces distant, and was often hidden 

 from me by the tall weeds. 



It seemed, at last, as though I must have scanned 

 closely every square foot of the ground within a reason- 

 able distance of the spring, and finding nothing, I with- 

 drew. As soon as I was away, the tattler, which had evi- 

 dently been watching my movements, returned to the 



