146 SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 



July I discovered that a large number of buzzards 

 roosted in some woods near Rock Creek, about a mile 

 from the city limits ; and, as they do not nest any- 

 where in this vicinity, I thought they might be males. 

 I happened to be detained late in the woods, watching 

 the nest of a flying squirrel, when the buzzards, just 

 after sundown, began to come by ones and twos and 

 alight in the trees near me. Presently they came in 

 greater numbers, but from the same direction, flapping 

 low over the woods, and taking up their position in the 

 middle branches. On alighting, each one would blow 

 very audibly through his nose, just as a cow does when 

 she lies down ; this is the only sound I have ever 

 heard the buzzard make. They would then stretch 

 themselves after the manner of turkeys, and walk along 

 the limbs. Sometimes a decayed branch would break 

 under the weight of two or three, when, with a great 

 flapping, they would take up new positions. They 

 continued to come till it was quite dark, and all the 

 trees about me were full. I began to feel a little 

 nervous, but kept my place. After it was entirely 

 dark and all was still, I gathered a large pile of dry 

 leaves and kindled it with a match, to see what they 

 would think of a fire. Not a sound was heard till the 

 pile of leaves was in full blaze, when instantaneously 

 every buzzard started. I thought the tree-tops were 

 coming down upon me, so great was the uproar. But 

 the woods were soon cleared, and the loathsome pack 

 disappeared in the night. 



