156 SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 



ing by day, till after the middle of May, when they 

 cease. In September, with numbers greatly increased, 

 they are on their way back. I am first advised of 

 their return by hearing their calls at night as they fly 

 over the city. On certain nights the sound becomes 

 quite noticeable. I have awakened in the middle of 

 the night, and, through the open window, as I lay in 

 bed, heard their faint notes. The warblers begin to 

 return about the same time, and are clearly distin- 

 guished by their timid yeaps. On dark cloudy nights 

 the birds seem confused by the lights of the city, and 

 apparently wander about above it. 



In the spring the same curious incident is repeated, 

 though but few voices can be identified. I make out 

 the snow-bird, the bobolink, the warblers, and on two 

 nights during the early part of May I heard very clearly 

 the call of the sandpipers. 



Instead of the bobolink, one encounters here, in 

 the June meadows, the black-throated bunting, a bird 

 closely related to the sparrows, and a very persistent, 

 if not a very musical songster. He perches upon the 

 fences and upon the trees by the roadside, and, spread- 

 ing his tail, gives forth his harsh strain, which may be 

 roughly worded thus : fscp fscp, fee fee fee. Like all 

 sounds associated with early summer, it soon has a 

 charm to the ear quite independent of its intrinsic 

 merits. 



~IOutside of the city limits, the great point of interest 

 to the rambler and lover of nature is the Rock Creek 



