CENSUS OF NESTING BIRDS 55 



to the minority and to me the honk of the auto horn and the 

 rattle of the car in such a region jars the celestial harmonies 

 of nature. The fragrance of the wild flowers is marred by the 

 odor of gasoline. I can but foresee that the more shy feath- 

 ered friends of man will be driven from the Park, and in the 

 course of time, completely exterminated, but perhaps I am too 

 pessimistic as well as too selfish. Nevertheless, there is good 

 argument in favor of having some part of the Park left in all 

 of its natural, wonderful wildness as a rendezvous of the birds, 

 of the wild flowers and of the nature lover. 



I find it difficult to distinguish the note of the Ovenbird 

 from the note of the Kentucky Warbler when heard separate- 

 ly or at a distance. This difficulty brought me a most inter- 

 esting experience. On the south slope of Hazel Dell I crept up 

 a little ravine in order to identify one of these species by sight 

 that I heard singing at intervals. After a little I sat down to 

 listen and locate the bird when suddenly I was thrilled by see- 

 ing an Ovenbird fly into the low branches of an oak and feed 

 her new fledged young. What a great sight to find a whole 

 family of this rather rare bird! But surprises, like troubles, 

 sometimes do not come singly. I had hardly recovered from 

 the shock of finding the Ovenbird when another thrill was 

 added by finding only a few yards away, a brood of Black-and- 

 white Warblers, with the parent birds fluttering about. Only 

 the bird lover can appreciate the situation. 



To add to the excitement, a Worm-eating Warbler and a 

 White-eyed Vireo were both singing near by, and off across 

 the stream I could hear both the Parula and the Cerulean 

 Warblers singing from the tree tops. Now and then, an 



