WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



much feared last year, once more falls upon the 

 bushes, and the blue air is pricked by its piercing 

 scream miles above high C. 



What hosts of birds June saw in this thicket 

 while the yellow-throats were busily clearing out 

 a little pit in the dry turf, weaving within it a strong 

 basket of grass and weed-stems, and then furnish- 

 ing it, bit by bit, with silken shreds. It is a visit- 

 ing-place for rare warblers. In the greenish gray 

 of the fresh -leaved bushes flit greenish-gray Hel- 

 minthophaga fly-catchers, as noiseless and almost 

 as invisible as ghosts. Restless ground-warblers 

 explore the recesses of the old tussocks, watchful 

 against snakes; and the loud scratching of a towhee 

 startles for a moment an oven-bird, who, stepping 

 daintily in silken stockings, is wondering whether 

 our yellow-throat would be neighborly if she should 

 make her domed summer - house near by. Over 

 the maple-tops a tanager swings through the air 

 like a volant ruby ; while, sapphire-like, the indigo- 

 bird poises at the apex of my hemlock, lilting a 

 song that sparkles in the sunshine. 



Beautifully and merrily the yellow-throat's nest 

 is completed, and day by day through a hopeful 

 week the tiny, red-spotted eggs are laid, and the 

 young wife takes up her vigil of love upon them, 



332 



