THE MARSH DWELLERS 169 



When I was a couple of yards away from the weed- 

 stalk, up sprang the female bobolink, apparently 

 from almost the very spot I had noted. This was 

 encouraging; it showed that she had not run through 

 the grass any distance this time, either when flushed 

 or when alighting. Almost immediately the truant 

 father bird appeared and sang gayly near me, occa- 

 sionally diving mysteriously and impressively into the 

 grass in different places, as if visiting a nest. I was 

 not to be distracted by any such tactics, but threw 

 my hat to the exact spot from which, as I judged, 

 the female had started. With this as a centre I 

 pushed back the long grass and began to search 

 the area of a five-foot circle, first looking hurriedly 

 under the hat to make sure that it had not covered 

 the nest. My search was all in vain, although it 

 seemed to me that I examined every square inch 

 of that circle. At last I decided that the sly birds 

 had again deceived me. Taking up my hat, I was 

 about to begin another watch, when, in the very spot 

 where the hat had lain, I noticed that the long leaves 

 of a narrow-leafed plantain at one place had been 

 parted, showing a hole underneath. I carefully 

 separated the leaves, and before me lay the long- 

 desired nest. It was only a shallow hollow under the 

 leaves, lined with fine dry grass and containing four 

 dark eggs heavily blotched and marbled with red- 

 brown. 



It is probable that ordinarily, when the mother 

 bird left the nest, she would arrange the leaves so 

 as entirely to cover the hole beneath. If this were 



