IN THE HEMLOCKS 



by him in a great hurry, making all the noise pos- 

 sible, and with plumage furled he stands as immov- 

 able as a knot, allowing you a good view, and a 

 good shot if you are a sportsman. 



Passing along one of the old Barkpeelers* roads 

 which wander aimlessly about, I am attracted by a 

 singularly brilliant and emphatic warble, proceed- 

 ing from the low bushes, and quickly suggesting 

 the voice of the Maryland yellow-throat. Presently 

 the singer hops up on a dry twig, and gives me a 

 good view : lead-colored head and neck, becoming 

 nearly black on the breast; clear olive-green back, 

 and yellow belly. From his habit of keeping near 

 the ground, even hopping upon it occasionally, I 

 know him to be a ground warbler; from his dark 

 breast the ornithologist has added the expletive 

 mourning, hence the mourning ground warbler. 



Of this bird both Wilson and Audubon confessed 

 their comparative ignorance, neither ever having 

 seen its nest or become acquainted with its haunts 

 and general habits. Its song is quite striking and 

 novel, though its voice at once suggests the class of 

 warblers to which it belongs. It is very shy and 

 wary, flying but a few feet at a time, and studiously 

 concealing itself from your view. I discover but 

 one pair here. The female has food in her beak, 

 but carefully avoids betraying the locality of her 

 nest. The ground warblers all have one notable 

 feature, very beautiful legs, as white and delicate 

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