IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 91 



bird to appear as before; but she had gath- 

 ered courage from my former failure, or so 

 it seemed, and I waited in vain till I rapped 

 upon the ground over her head. Then she scram- 

 bled out and limped away, repeating her inno- 

 cent but hackneyed ruse. This time I was re- 

 solved not to be baffled. The nest was there, 

 and I would find it. So down on my knees I 

 got, and scrutinized the whole place most care- 

 fully. But though I had marked the precise 

 spot, there was no sign of a nest. I was about 

 giving over the search ignominiously, when I de- 

 scried a slight opening between the overhang- 

 ing roof of the bank and a layer of earth which 

 some roots held in place close under it. Into 

 this slit I inserted my fingers, and there, en- 

 tirely out of sight, was the nest full of eggs. No 

 man could ever have found it, had the bird been 

 brave and wise enough to keep her seat. How- 

 ever, I had before this noticed that the snow- 

 bird, while often extremely clever in choosing 

 a building site, is seldom very skillful in keeping 

 a secret. I saw him one day standing on the 

 side of the same Mount Willard road, 1 gesticu- 



1 Beside this road (in June, 1883) I found a nest of the yellow- 

 bellied flycatcher (Empidonax flaviventris). It was built at the 

 base of a decayed stump, in a little depression between two roots, 

 and was partially overarched with growing moss. It contained 

 four eggs, white, spotted with brown. I called upon the bird 

 half a dozen times or more, and found her a model " keeper at 



